His After-Hours Mistress

by Amanda Browning

  Something must have shown on her face, for he frowned. ‘You OK?’

  ‘A touch of indigestion,’ she invented hastily.

  That brought his brows arcing. ‘You haven’t eaten anything.’

  There were times when his persistence could be downright irritating. ‘Must be an empty stomach, then,’ Ginny countered and was relieved to hear the door open.

  ‘Honestly, Roarke, where have you been? I expected you earlier,’ Caroline complained as she looked out, then caught sight of Ginny. ‘Oh!’

  Roarke stepped forward, hustling his sister away from the door and back into her room. ‘Caro, meet Ginny. Ginny, Caro.’ He introduced them to each other as he did so.

  ‘Pleased to meet you,’ Ginny murmured politely, following them in and shutting the door at a jerk of the head from Roarke.

  ‘Likewise,’ Caroline returned, then pulled an angry face at her brother and slapped his hands away. ‘Stop it!’

  Roarke held up his hands repentantly, then bent and kissed her cheek. ‘Sorry, darling, but we need to speak to you alone, and we don’t want to be seen coming in here.’

  ‘Why? What have you done?’ she asked suspiciously.

  Roarke straightened up. ‘Why do you always assume I’ve done something?’

  ‘Because you’re a rogue,’ Caroline observed simply.

  Unsure how long this sibling badinage was likely to go on for, Ginny cleared her throat to attract their attention. Caroline was instantly contrite.

  ‘Now look what we’ve done. We’re upsetting your…friend.’ The fractional hesitation was glossed over by a friendly smile.

  ‘Ginny is more than a friend,’ Roarke amended, and his sister glared at him.

  ‘I was trying to be polite,’ she hissed through her teeth.

  ‘There’s no need to worry,’ Ginny interrupted. ‘I’m used to your brother’s shortcomings,’ she added sweetly.

  Caroline frowned. ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘No, but you will,’ her brother declared, leading her by the arm to a nearby chair and urging her to sit. ‘We want to talk to you about Sir Martin.’

  The other woman couldn’t have been more surprised. ‘Sir Martin? What about him?’

  ‘For one thing, Ginny is his daughter,’ Roarke said without preamble, and his sister blinked.

  ‘His daughter? But I thought…’ The sentence tailed off as she looked steadily at Ginny.

  ‘He only had one?’ Ginny finished for her, taking the spare seat. ‘That’s because he disowned me many years ago. I was shown the door and told never to darken it again, because I chose to follow my own path. I took my mother’s maiden name, Harte.’

  Caroline had been studying her closely. ‘Yes, now that you mention it, I can see the likeness between you and Lucy.’

  ‘Please don’t think I’m here to try and talk you out of a marriage, because I’m not. Your brother asked me to tell you something about the family you’re marrying into, that’s all. You see, the Brigadier, my…father, is a very…forceful man.’

  Caroline looked from her brother to Ginny, and just the faintest of smiles curled at the outer edges of her lips. ‘I’ve always thought of him as a bully,’ she remarked, taking the wind right out of their sails.

  ‘You do?’ Ginny gasped in amazement.

  ‘I never thought of calling him the Brigadier, but it’s a good name for him,’ Caroline added with a wry laugh, before looking at Ginny. ‘It was good of you to come, but you didn’t have to. I’ve known for a long time just the sort of man Sir Martin is. Your brother James is a decent man, but whenever he comes into contact with his father, he changes. He’s intimidated and he knows it, so he becomes angry and aggressive. He isn’t the man his father would have him be, and he has anxiety attacks because of it. Yet when he’s with me he’s a different person, softer, calmer. James is a talented man. He’s a brilliant watercolourist, did you know?’

  Ginny shook her head. ‘No, I didn’t. What my father deemed as “sissy subjects” were banned in our house.’

  A determined look settled on Caroline’s face. ‘Maybe in his house, but not in mine. I love James, and I fully intend to get him away from your father’s influence just as soon as we are married.’

  The unexpected declaration, said with such determination, brought a lump to Ginny’s throat. She stared at her soon to be sister-in-law with growing respect. ‘So you do love him.’

  Caroline frowned a little. ‘I wouldn’t be marrying him if I didn’t. Does that surprise you?’

  ‘No,’ Ginny denied hastily. ‘It was suggested to me that you might be marrying him to get away from your mother,’ she added, with a pointed look at Roarke.

  ‘You’ll pay for that,’ he promised, and Ginny raised her eyebrows.

  ‘Oh? And just how do you propose to do that?’

  ‘I’ll think of something.’

  Following the exchange with interest, Caroline laughed. ‘Roarke has this thing about love and marriage. One doesn’t exist and the other doesn’t last.’ She looked at her brother fondly. ‘I wasn’t too sure myself at one time, but I am now. Love exists, and marriages don’t have to fail if you work at them. Our parents find it easier to flit from one to the other, because it’s easier than making a proper commitment. They fail, but I don’t intend to. You’ll find you think the same yourself one day, Roarke.’

  Her brother was quick to shake his head. ‘I’m not looking for love,’ he pronounced, which only made her smile broadly.

  ‘Good, because that’s just the time when you’ll trip right over it. I wish I could be there to see the moment when you realise that old magic has got you too!’

  Roarke laughed along with her. ‘Never going to happen, darling,’ he insisted, taking her hand and pulling her to her feet. ‘We’d better be off. Time’s getting on and you’ve got to get ready.’ Taking her in his arms, he gave her a powerful hug. ‘Be happy.’

  ‘I intend to,’ she responded in a watery voice when he released her.

  On impulse, Ginny hugged her too. ‘James is very lucky,’ she said gruffly, knowing that her brother might just have found salvation.

  ‘I’m the lucky one,’ Caroline corrected. ‘You must come and see us. I’ll have Roarke give you our address.’

  Ginny stepped back with a wince. ‘You might want to check that out with James first, but thanks for the invitation. It was a kind thought.’

  Looking troubled by Ginny’s response, Caroline took her hands. ‘I can’t imagine what it must have been like to be cut off from your family. I know it would hurt me, so I’m sure it must have hurt you. But that’s over now. Trust me, James will want to see you.’

  Ginny didn’t believe it, but she wouldn’t spoil Caroline’s day by saying so. ‘Maybe you can work miracles.’

  They were interrupted by a knock on the door.

  ‘That will be my bridesmaids come to help me dress. Mother will be descending on me too, soon.’

  ‘Which is our cue to leave,’ Roarke said with heavy irony. ‘See you in church, Caro.’

  They left Caroline in the capable hands of her four bridesmaids and headed back the way they had come.

  ‘I have to hand it to my little sister. She surprised me with that one,’ Roarke commented.

  ‘That’s because she isn’t a little sister any more. She grew up. Like Lucy. We think we know them, but we don’t really. Do you think she could be right about James?’

  ‘After this morning, it wouldn’t surprise me. Have faith in Caro. If anyone can help your brother, she can.’

  ‘Mmm, I liked her. In fact, the more I see of your family the more I like them. You’re even likeable yourself when you’re not being obnoxious,’ Ginny admitted reluctantly.

  ‘Ditto,’ Roarke returned promptly, and their eyes met. Not for the first time sexual awareness ignited between them, and the air began to thicken. Ginny found it hard to look away, and when she did she still felt as if she had run a race.

  They hadn’t touched
or anything like that. All they had done was look at each other, and that chemical reaction started all over again. It was getting ridiculous.

  ‘Let’s get some breakfast,’ she suggested tersely, not because she was hungry but because right now she would rather not be alone with him. So far as she was concerned, the sooner this weekend was over the better.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  THE wedding service was beautiful. The bride was radiant and the groom looked nervous, but that was how it should be. She and Roarke were seated on the bride’s side of the church. If she glanced to her right she could see her parents and Lucy in the front pew but, so far as she could tell, nobody had looked her way. Doubtless her father had laid down the law again.

  The church was packed with relatives and other well-wishers, which was why Ginny found herself pressed up close to Roarke’s side. She had tried to make more room for herself, but that had only had the effect of brushing her thigh against his. A manoeuvre which had caused him to look at her mockingly and she had desisted. However, the warmth coming from him was impossible to ignore, as was the far too intoxicating scent of his cologne.

  Just being close to him was turning her on, and she had known how it would be. That reckless side of her nature, which she had relentlessly suppressed for so long, was coming to the fore again. Her sensuality had come out of her self-imposed deep freeze and was being bombarded by signals it didn’t want to ignore.

  She was doing her best, though, but it didn’t help that she still had a role to play. When the service was over, and they all rose to follow the bride and groom out of the church for the taking of photographs, she would have preferred to walk alone, but she became aware of Jenna watching them, and was forced to take Roarke’s arm, holding on to it far more tightly than was comfortable.

  Roarke glanced at her, brows raised questioningly, and she sighed, knowing he wanted to know why she was holding him when she had been the one to insist on no touching. ‘We’re being watched,’ she explained in an undertone, and he nodded, placing his hand atop hers to add to the illusion, unwittingly sending her temperature rising.

  They wandered outside with the rest, but there was scant relief for Ginny. To her dismay Roarke insisted she joined in all the family group photos.

  ‘You’re part of the family, even if only a few of us know it,’ he informed her when she attempted to protest. ‘You have more right than some to be here.’

  To which she had no response. And seeing the annoyance on the Brigadier’s face did make her feel better. Of course, she didn’t move when the groom’s family were called for, because that would raise some pretty difficult questions.

  There was, however, no getting away from the traditional greeting of the guests by the bride and groom and their immediate families, when the guests moved on to the hotel where the wedding reception had been arranged. If anyone thought it odd that the bride should greet her as warmly as she did her brother, whilst the groom barely shook her hand, nobody remarked upon it.

  Naturally, Jenna took advantage of the situation to kiss Roarke far too enthusiastically, which brought a dark look to Lewis Adams’s face, despite the fact that Roarke pulled himself free almost immediately. At his side, Ginny could feel his anger and when it was her turn to shake hands with the woman, she gripped her hand tightly so that Jenna was forced to look at her.

  ‘Do that again, Mrs Adams, and you’ll be sorrier than you can possibly imagine,’ Ginny promised softly, attaching a friendly smile to the words that didn’t reach her eyes.

  ‘I don’t know what you mean!’ Jenna protested her innocence, trying to free her hand without drawing attention to herself.

  ‘I’m not Roarke, Jenna, and I have no qualms about calling a spade a spade,’ Ginny had time to add before finally releasing the other woman and moving on.

  This brought her to her sister, who gave her a swift smile and an even swifter shake of the hand. Sir Martin was next, and Ginny made no attempt to shake his hand. ‘Brigadier,’ she said coolly, before passing on to her mother.

  Emily Beavis was patently nervous, and looked everywhere but directly at her eldest daughter, which saddened Ginny. ‘James looked very handsome today, Mum. You must have been proud of him,’ she said, willing her mother to say something, anything.

  Her mother jumped, but at last she did meet her daughter’s eyes. ‘Oh, yes…I…er…’

  ‘Emily!’ Sir Martin’s stern warning lashed out, making his wife blanch.

  ‘Oh, dear!’

  Ginny could have killed him for that, but she took pity on her mother and, defying the man standing by, she gave her a brief hug. ‘I love you,’ she whispered gruffly, then quickly turned away.

  Her eyes were dazzled by unshed tears, and it was just as well that Roarke slipped an arm about her waist and guided her away from the group by the door, because she couldn’t see where she was going.

  ‘Here, take this.’ He urged a glass into her hand, and Ginny took a bracing sip of what turned out to be a fine champagne.

  ‘Sorry about that,’ she apologised a little while later, once her composure had returned. ‘I hate to see her so cowed, but I can’t really remember her any other way.’

  ‘Why doesn’t she leave him?’ Roarke asked the obvious question.

  ‘Because he has her so much under his thumb, she can’t do a thing without his approval. Besides, the family and her home is all she has. If she had any courage once, he’s bullied it out of her by now,’ Ginny answered dispiritedly.

  ‘Just as well you got away from there when you did,’ Roarke observed grimly.

  ‘Amen to that,’ she answered with a heartfelt sigh.

  ‘So now all we have to do is make sure your sister Lucy breaks free too,’ he went on, causing her to stare up at him.

  ‘We?’ she queried with a tiny frown.

  ‘Did you think I was going to let you go into battle for her alone?’ Roarke challenged, and Ginny’s heart did a strange little flip-flop in her chest.

  ‘It isn’t your fight, Roarke,’ she reminded him, at the same time feeling oddly unsettled inside.

  ‘It is now,’ he insisted calmly, and Ginny didn’t know whether to be pleased or angry.

  Her laugh sounded odd to her own ears. ‘Because your sister married my brother?’

  Roarke shook his head, and the look he held her eyes with was compelling. ‘Because that man has done all I intend he should ever do to hurt you, sweetheart. What he does to your sister hurts you, and that’s all I need to know. Got it?’

  Oh, she got it all right, but she didn’t believe it. He took her breath away. He made it sound as if how she felt was important to him, and she wasn’t used to that. Not from anyone, least of all Roarke Adams. She had no idea what to say.

  ‘Why are you doing this?’ she had to ask, though her voice was a croak, her throat was so tight.

  ‘Because somebody has to,’ he responded forcefully.

  Ginny drew in a very shaky breath. ‘I’m having trouble seeing you as a white knight.’

  Roarke’s laugh was wry. ‘That’s because you’ve painted me as an unsavoury Lothario ever since you met me. If I did a good deed, you would have ignored it.’

  He wasn’t far off the mark, and that made Ginny feel uncomfortable. ‘You’re right, and I apologise. You aren’t all bad.’

  ‘Damned with faint praise,’ he exclaimed in amusement.

  She had to smile ruefully. ‘It’s hard to let go of the image I have of you.’

  His brow quirked. ‘That’s the one of me bed-hopping and writing notes in a little black book?’

  It did sound like a ridiculous stereotype put like that. ‘It’s more comfortable thinking of you that way,’ she admitted reluctantly.

  ‘I know what you mean,’ Roarke put in feelingly. ‘I’m trying to hold on to my image of you as a cold-blooded harridan, but this sexy redhead keeps getting in the way!’

  The whole of her body seemed to jolt at his description of her, and her stomach knotted. Sh
e could feel heat flooding into her cheeks. ‘Cut it out, Roarke!’ she ordered thickly. ‘I’m not…what you said!’

  ‘Sweetheart, you should try looking at yourself from my point of view,’ he drawled huskily, setting her nerves tingling like crazy.

  She didn’t dare when she was having her own problems. When he was just Roarke Adams, vile womaniser, she could pigeonhole him and carry on her way. Since he had become Roarke, the man who could make her blood sing, she didn’t know what to make of him, and he was impossible to ignore. Now she also had to try and forget the fact that he thought her sexy. They had come a long way in a very short time, and the end result was far from ideal.

  At least she had recovered from the emotional turmoil of the brief meeting with her mother. Which, now she came to think of it, might have been his intention all along. Proving yet again that he was not the man she had always thought him. There were layers to him that she had never suspected, and each time she uncovered one her idea of him changed, making it impossible to dislike him. It was very disconcerting, because her dislike of him had been a fire wall behind which she had hidden. With that removed, she was once more in danger of feeling the heat of her sensuality.

  Like now, for instance. Roarke wasn’t watching her, giving her the chance to observe him unobserved. There were lines beside his eyes and mouth, which suggested he laughed easily and often. She liked men who laughed. Her father was a sober man, too full of his own importance to damage his dignity by laughing. Roarke’s eyes twinkled, too, at thoughts he generally kept to himself. Physically, he looked powerful, but she knew how gentle he could be, and that was a big turn-on. There didn’t seem to be an inch of her that wasn’t aware of every inch of him. She had never experienced so strong a pull, and it was downright scary.

  ‘Have I grown another head?’ The amused question reached her ears and brought her out of her reverie.

  Naturally she looked up and green eyes met grey. She was getting a little more used to the thrill that went through her whenever that happened, but it didn’t stop her nerves from tingling.