As consciousness returned, so did sensation. Holly became aware of the silky fabric which lay rucked up beneath her naked flesh, and of the wetness between her legs.
Luke felt it, too, and raised his head. ‘I think the condom may have burst,’ he told her ruefully, realising that, stupidly, he didn’t care. He kissed her bare shoulder and slid his hand down between her legs, but his fingers came away oddly sticky...
He rolled off her and snapped on the cubicle light, then stared down in disbelief at the tell-tale scarlet stain which had flowered over the creamy silk, his eyes widening with horror as he realised the full implications.
‘Blood,’ he breathed. ‘Blood.’ He turned to her with disbelief written in his eyes, and, before he could hide it, pride. A primitive, unimaginable pride. ‘Holly. Holly, sweetheart—you’re a...’
But the tender words had come too late. ‘Yes, I’m a virgin!’ she spat back at him. ‘Surprised?’
‘Surprised? I’m absolutely bloody flabbergasted,’ he admitted in a dazed voice, until he realised from the look on her face that it was entirely the wrong thing to say. ‘Holly, sweetheart—come here—’
‘Get away from me!’ she told him furiously, and she pushed him away and jumped to her feet. He snaked his hand out and tried to capture her ankle, but she shook him off, hurriedly pulled her shirt back on and then wiped the thin scarlet film of blood from her thighs with her discarded panties.
‘Holly—’
‘Don’t you “Holly” me!’ she declared furiously, and pointed at the stained fabric. ‘Why don’t you take the evidence of my virginity and wave it triumphantly out of the window?’ she raged. ‘That’s what they used to do in the barbaric old days, isn’t it? Well—that should suit you right down to the ground!’
‘Listen to me—’
‘I won’t listen to another word you say, Luke Goodwin! And you can take your smug, outdated hypocrisy somewhere else! How dare you think you can suddenly elevate me from tramp to Madonna—just because I happened to have an intact hymen!’ She drew in a deep, shuddering breath, but not before she had seen his shocked expression. Good! Then she’d shock him some more! ‘We’ve both had what we want, so now you can go! I’m sorry I lied to your fiancée about sleeping with you—but, if you want to know the truth, at the time I thought she wasn’t good enough for you. Now I think you’re probably a match made in heaven’ It may not be too late, Luke—so why don’t you go crawling back to Africa and find her?’
‘I’m not going anywhere until we’ve talked this over sensibly I’ve told you—it’s over with Caroline. She’s gone back.’
But his words brought her no joy. ‘And I told you that I don’t care—and nothing will ever change that fact!’
He should have looked ridiculous, sitting naked among the sheening undulations of the ruffled silk, but, oddly enough, he looked divine. ‘Holly.’ His voice was soft. ‘Not to talk about this is crazy.’
Holly closed her heart and glowered. ‘It’s too late! There’s nothing left to say. I’ve paid my dues,’ she told him deliberately, and saw him flinch. ‘So get out. Out of my shop and out of my life! And don’t come back! I mean it, Luke!’
He could see she did. He could also see that nothing he said right now would help. If he tried to gentle her, then he would be accused of patronising her. If he tried to love her he would be the sex-crazed taker of her innocence. This might be the hardest thing he had ever had to do, but..
Rising to his feet, Luke began to reach down for his clothes while Holly, with folded arms and trembling lips, stood and watched him.
She meant every word she’d said, but that didn’t stop her from having to bite back bitter tears as he silently began to pull on his trousers, ready to leave her.
CHAPTER TWELVE
THE mammoth Christmas tree twinkled merrily in the sumptuous dining room of the Grantchester hotel, and Holly pushed her barely touched plate of lobster away.
‘Have another glass of champagne, darling!’
‘I don’t want another glass of champagne, thank you,’ answered Holly moodily, slapping her hand over the crystal flute before her mother could tip any more wine into it.
‘It might put you in a better mood,’ said her mother carefully. She’d never known her compliant Holly be so grumpy!
‘It might also give me a splitting headache,’ objected Holly. ‘And I’ve got to drive back to Woodhampton.’
‘Darling, nor tonight—it’s New Year’s Eve,’ protested her mother, although not, Holly noticed, terribly convincingly.
But who could blame her?
Since Holly had arrived to spend Christmas with her mother and husband number four at one of London’s most luxurious hotels, she was aware that she had been like a bear with a sore head. Oh, she had gone through all the motions of seasonal celebration, but she knew that she hadn’t put up a very convincing performance.
Her mother lit a cigarette. ‘Are you going to a New Year party, then, darling?’
Holly shook her head, and flapped her hand to dispel some of the fog. ‘Nope. But I promised that the draw for the wedding dress would take place on the stroke of midnight!’
‘Huh!’ scoffed her mother. ‘Who’s going to be there to see it? Who will know if you draw it tomorrow morning instead? That way you can stay on and party here, with us!’
‘I’ll know,’ said Holly firmly. ‘And besides, I don’t want to spoil your fun, Mum,’ she added truthfully.
Holly’s mother looked guilty as she refilled her glass. ‘Darling, I know I haven’t been a good mother—’
Holly sighed. It was getting to that melancholy stage of the lunch. ‘You did your best, Mum,’ she said placatingly. ‘That’s all anyone can do. You’re you, and I’m me.’ She sniffed miserably. ‘And I just happened to make the mistake of falling in love with the biggest rat this side of the Atlantic!’
‘This is this Luke, is it? The man you won’t tell me anything about other than his name and the fact that he might be a member of the rodent family?’
‘That’s right,’ said Holly, staring gloomily into her empty glass.
‘It is rather irritating, darling,’ objected her mother prettily. ‘You’ve never shown interest in a single man in your life, and now you have done and you won’t tell me anything about him!’
‘That’s because there’s nothing to tell, other than he’s left and probably gone back to Africa! He’s past tense!’ she snarled. ‘History!’
Her mother lifted her shoulders expressively. ‘Men,’ she colluded darkly. ‘They’re all the same!’ She batted her eyelashes as she saw the squat, toad-like shape of husband number four approaching across the restaurant, and hissed, ‘But they keep you in comfort as you get older, dear! Just remember that!’
Holly shuddered as she rose to her feet. She would rather stay single, thank you very much, than rely on some odious creep to support her!
Half an hour later, she was driving fast out of London towards Woodhampton in her Beetle. The garage that Luke had recommended had telephoned to renew their offer, and it seemed like an indecent amount of money for the gaudy car. ‘Beetles are big right now!’ the salesman had informed her.
But while the sensible side of her urged her to take the money and run...well, there was another side which couldn’t bear to part with the car. God knew, she hadn’t got Luke—was she going to lose everything else that was dear to her?
All the way back, her thoughts threatened to drive her crazy. However brutish Luke had been, the unchangeable fact was that she missed him more each day, and the longer he was out of her life, the greater the temptation to justify his behaviour.
All right, he hadn’t told her about Caroline—but his behaviour had been exemplary while she’d been staying with him. Yes, they had been close—but their closeness had been no more sinister than warmth and affection. He hadn’t laid a finger on her in the whole two weeks, and that must have taken some self-control since she had spent the entire time giving him the
green light.
And afterwards, in her flat after the party—he hadn’t exactly been guilty of a capital crime there either, had he? What had he done? Touched her ankle and kissed her. Big deal! It had been a party, for heaven’s sake, and, like her mother said, people always kissed people they shouldn’t at parties. Why, it was how her mother had found most of her boyfriends and all of her husbands!
Woodhampton High Street was deserted, but loud disco music was blaring from the fairy-lit interior of the Bell Inn, and Holly remembered that they were having a New Year party. She thought she’d probably pass on that...
She parked outside Lovelace Brides and couldn’t resist turning her head to look up at Apson House, hope flickering in her heart despite all her best attempts to stem it. But the house was in complete darkness, with not a flicker of light anywhere to be seen.
So he wasn’t back and he obviously had no intention of coming back. He had missed Africa and had probably managed to change Caroline’s mind, and no doubt they were busy planning a romantic, open-air wedding out there right now.
She fished around in her bag for her keys, her eyes automatically flickering to the window, where the prize dress was spotlit, then back to her handbag again.
She stilled.
Narrowing her eyes, she turned and looked back towards the window. Everything looked exactly the same as when she had left it, and yet it was not the same.
For it was her dress in the window, and yet it was not her dress.
Fingers shaking, she managed to get the door open, and stepped into the half-light of the interior, where the spotlight focussed so brightly on the wedding dress gave out the only illumination.
Holly walked forward, slowly as a sleepwalker, until she was just feet away from the gown, and then her hands began to tremble. She reached forward to touch it, and the difference became evident in a moment. Her mother’s gown was made of far costlier material than hers, the stitching on it exquisitely fine. Holly’s wedding gown was a beautiful dress, but her mother’s was an heirloom.
‘Like it?’ came a deep voice from the shadows.
It should have given her a fright, but it didn‘t—it was a voice she had grown to love and which she recognised immediately. She didn’t even turn round, but then maybe that was because she could sense he was moving across the shop towards her, and she didn’t speak until he was right behind her.
‘Where did you find it?’ she asked dully.
‘Long story.’
She did turn round then, and she could do absolutely nothing to stop the great rush of emotion which washed over her. She’d missed him, she realised, more than she had any right to miss him.
She met his gaze. ‘No need to ask how you got in.’ He shrugged. ‘The landlord always has a spare key.’ He looked at her face closely for some kind of reaction. ‘Surprised to see me?’
She thought about it. ‘I’m not sure.’
He thought that her voice contained neither warmth, nor chill—just a matter-of-factness which was oddly emotionless. She sounded like a tired teacher at the end of term.
She frowned. ‘Have you lost weight?’
‘Yeah.’ His voice was wry. ‘Haven’t had a lot of appetite recently.’
Me neither, she thought, but, ‘Oh,’ was all she said. She wanted to ask what his reason was, but that might sound as if she was concerned about his welfare, and she wasn’t Because she still hadn’t forgiven him.
He threw her a conciliatory look. ‘Do you want to know about the dress?’
She wasn’t going to make this easy for him. ‘I’d rather know the truth about you and Caroline.’
He nodded. ‘I thought you might say something like that. Can we go and sit down somewhere more comfortable while I tell you?’
‘Where did you have in mind?’ she asked nastily. ‘The changing room?’
Luke resisted the temptation to say, If you like, and shook his tawny head instead. ‘Upstairs?’
‘I thought you didn’t like my flat!’ she snapped. He had come prepared for a fight, but even so it was the hardest thing in the world to just tiptoe round her raw feelings like this, when all he wanted to do was to scoop her up in his arms and kiss the breath out of her.
‘I like your flat very much, Holly,’ he told her equably. ‘But if you’d prefer we could talk somewhere else. How about the quiet, intimate atmosphere of The Bell?’
Her mouth began to twitch, but she wouldn’t laugh, she wouldn’t. ‘Come on, then,’ she said ungraciously, and stomped loudly up the stairs, like a child sent early to bed, while he followed her.
The flat was warm. ‘Have you turned the heating on?’ she demanded suspiciously.
‘Guilty.’
‘But why? I might not have been back at least until the day after tomorrow. The shop won’t open on New Year’s Day.’
‘I know. But I also knew that you’d be back tonight—’
‘How could you know that, for heaven’s sake?’
‘Because that’s when you said the draw would take place.’
Holly nodded, pleased that he had remembered and pleased that he had taken her at her word. But if he had really taken her at her word, then he wouldn’t be here, would he? Not when she had told him that she never wanted to see him again.
She sat down on the sofa and looked at him, steeling herself against the denim-blue eyes, the tawny head, the irresistible mouth.
‘I guess it would be an unfair advantage of me to sit down beside you?’
‘Yes, it would—and it’s a little late in the day for old-fashioned courtesy,’ she scolded, despairing of herself as she added, ‘You can sit right up at the other end as long as you don’t move.’
He did, stretching his long legs out in front of him before turning to look at her. ‘And I guess you want an explanation of my behaviour?’
‘Damn right I do!’
His eyes narrowed. ‘And then perhaps you’ll explain to me why you let me take your virginity in the most inglorious fashion imaginable?’
‘Because I “owed” you?’ she mocked.
He winced. ‘You know that I would never have said that if I’d had any idea that—’
‘That I wasn’t the strumpet you had me down as?’
Luke sighed. ‘Sweetheart, you are an enigmatic woman.’ His mouth softened as he tried to put it into words. ‘There’s just something about you. You have the kind of eyes...the kind of lips...a certain way of looking...’
‘Just what exactly are you trying to say, Luke?’
‘That you look like someone who’s been around the block several times over!’ Seeing her perplexed look, he elaborated. ‘It didn’t occur to me that you weren’t sexually experienced!’
‘Because I’m twenty-six?’
‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘It’s nothing to do with your age. Just the way you looked at me the first time you met me—well...’ he shrugged ’...without wishing to sound arrogant—’
‘Oh, cut the false modesty, Luke, please!’
‘You looked like you just wanted me to drag you off to the nearest bed and ravish you all night long.’
‘It’s a look you recognise well, is it?’ she asked sarcastically.
‘Well, women have come on to me like that before,’ he admitted.
‘And you always take them up on it, I suppose?’
‘Well, no—I don’t! That’s the whole point!’
‘What, never?’ she queried, in disbelief.
‘Not for years, no. Not that instant wham-bam-thank-you-ma’ am thing, anyway.’
‘That must be some small comfort for Caroline. Remember Caroline, Luke? The fiancée whom you conveniently forgot to mention?’
‘I was coming to that.’
‘I can’t imagine that there’s anything you could tell me about Caroline which would make your behaviour forgivable.’
‘Are you going to let me try?’
She shrugged, knowing she was going to say yes and feeling weak because of it—but how cou
ld she get through the rest of her life not knowing the truth? ‘I suppose so.’
He stared at his hands, at the jagged scar down the side of one thumb. He’d nearly lost the digit, and remembered the pain he had felt at the time—but that was nothing compared to the agonising ache inside him now ‘I’ve known Caroline for a long time,’ he began. ‘Years and years. She was a teacher at the nearest school to my ranch and we used to meet at various socials.’
‘How nice for you both! Was it love at first sight?’
‘Not at all. She used to heartily disapprove of my lifestyle and I never thought of her in that way. I used to look on her as a friend.’
‘So what happened to change her mind? Your undoubted prowess in bed—or maybe I should say on bolts of pure silk?’
At least he had saved his trump card for exactly this moment; he just prayed that he hadn’t destroyed all her faith in him, because if he had she would never believe him... He drew a deep breath. ‘Actually, I’ve never slept with Caroline. Never.’
‘You’ve never slept with me either,’ she put in pointedly.
It was not the reaction he had wanted—it sounded so unforgiving, and it started him thinking about things he hadn’t planned to think about. Not yet...
Sexual tension crackled through the air as their gazes locked with erotic memories. ‘Okay—let me phrase that a little differently. I’ve never had sex with Caroline,’ he told her baldly. ‘Ever.’
She stared at the wall unseeingly. ‘I’m not sure that I believe you.’
‘Yes, I thought you’d say that. But it’s true, Holly. I haven’t.’
Hope stirred with a Hicker in her heart, but she kept every trace of it from her voice. ‘Why not?’
One Bridegroom Required! Page 14
