Secret Passion

by Carole Mortimer

  James smiled at her stubborn expression. ‘That can easily be remedied—’

  ‘I don’t want to know about you,’ she told him vehemently.

  ‘—I’m thirty-four,’ he continued as if she hadn’t interrupted. ‘The only son of deceased parents. I like children, and animals—especially cats,’ he added as the sleek ginger tomcat entered the room. ‘Hello, boy,’ he greeted, going down on his haunches to tickle the ecstatic animal behind the ears.

  ‘Marmaduke,’ Aura supplied abruptly. ‘He belongs to my mother.’

  ‘He’s a beauty.’ Piercing green eyes suddenly looked up at her. ‘Couldn’t we have dinner together one evening?’

  She drew in a sharp breath at the abrupt change of subject, sure he had deliberately tried to catch her off guard. ‘No,’ she answered firmly.

  He straightened, ignoring the ginger cat as it twined in and out of his legs at the sudden, deprivation of his caressing fingers. ‘You have—someone, in your life?’ His eyes were narrowed.

  If she said yes, would he go away and leave her alone? The determined set of his mouth said no, that he would merely set about eliminating the competition. ‘Is it unusual for a woman to say no to you, Mr Ballantine?’ She was deliberately scoffing.

  ‘One that kisses me the way you do, yes,’ he nodded slowly.

  A flush burnt her cheeks, and she knew this man wasn’t flirting with her, that he didn’t know the meaning of the word; he seduced with candour and the certainty of his own feelings. ‘Mr Ballantine, I have no wish to have dinner with you,’ she told him abruptly. ‘I have a business to run, my mother to take care of—’

  ‘That can’t take up all your time,’ he chided.

  ‘It does!’

  ‘What do you do for relaxation?’

  She sighed. ‘I read, occasionally go for long walks, play tennis—’

  ‘I’ll pick you up Sunday afternoon and we’ll hire a court for a game—’

  ‘—badly,’ she finished ruefully. ‘Martina Navratilova has nothing to fear from me.’

  ‘Sunday,’ he said again firmly. ‘Two o’clock. I’ll give you a coaching lesson; John McEnroe taught me everything I know about tennis.’

  Her eyes widened. ‘You know—? But—’

  ‘I’ll see you Sunday afternoon, Aura.’ He gave her a quick kiss on her parted lips before leaving.

  For seconds after he had gone Aura was unable to move, unable to believe she actually had a date with James Ballantine despite all her objections. He was attractive and sensitive, but he was also one of the most forceful men she had ever met!

  She moved to the curtained window, drawing one of them back just in time to see the sweeping U-turn of a sleek grey Jaguar as James accelerated the car away.

  She had a feeling that when James wanted something badly enough, as he had seemed to want her company on Sunday, he just refused to accept the word no. As Adrian had? No, she was sure that James would always deal fairly for what he wanted, that he always attained it without hurting anyone to do it. Hadn’t he just done so? She wasn’t hurt; she was bewildered and slightly off-balance, but she wasn’t hurt.

  ‘Has Mr Ballantine gone, dear?’ Her mother sounded disappointed as she entered the room from the stairway.

  ‘Yes.’ Aura was still a little dazed.

  ‘Such a nice young man,’ her mother smiled warmly, having an ageless quality about her that refused to recognise she was only a few years James Ballantine’s senior. ‘Will we be seeing him again, do you think?’ she asked innocently.

  ‘No. Yes. No! I don’t think so,’ Aura said with determination.

  ‘What a pity.’ Her mother sighed. ‘He had such kind eyes.’

  Aura looked indulgently at her mother, a woman who saw no evil in anyone or anything. Although she had, Aura recalled with a frown, remarked upon the fact that Marmaduke didn’t seem to like Adrian, and that ‘animals knew, didn’t they?’ At that time she hadn’t paid too much attention to the vaguely made comment, but now she looked at her mother with sharp query.

  * * *

  ‘You deliberately made sure I couldn’t talk to you until today, didn’t you?’ Aura glared accusingly at James as he drove the Jaguar with relaxed control.

  It was Sunday, and promptly at two o’clock, as she had known he would, James had arrived at her home. He had then proceeded to charm her mother with gentle teasing, and enlist her help in persuading Aura to take a break when she had already told him she didn’t have the time to play tennis—no matter who his personal coach had been! He had even asked her mother if she would like to join them, genuinely disappointed when she had politely refused.

  He glanced at Aura now with innocently wide eyes. ‘I don’t—’

  ‘And don’t deny it,’ she warned. ‘I’ve been calling your office for the last two days, and each time your secretary told me you were “unavailable”,’ she said with disgust.

  ‘And you don’t believe I was?’ he mused softly.

  ‘I’m sure you weren’t,’ she snapped impatiently.

  ‘I’m a very busy man, Aura,’ he mocked.

  ‘Not that busy!’ she glared.

  He sighed. ‘You’re right. I told Moira not to put any of your calls through to me so that you couldn’t cancel our date for today.’

  ‘It was your date, I don’t remember at any time agreeing to it. And you might at least have lied about your duplicity,’ she added disgustedly.

  He looked at her intensely. ‘I’ll never lie to you about anything, Aura.’ His hand covered hers as it rested against her thigh, the brief white shorts she wore leaving most of her long legs bare. ‘I want you to always remember that.’

  The cool touch of his fingers against her skin, the knuckles brushing her thigh as he briefly clasped her hand, had completely disarmed her.

  She had no idea what she was doing here with him, had intended sending him away as soon as he arrived today, and instead, at his and her mother’s insistence, she had meekly found herself changing into the shorts and a brief white sun-top.

  Maybe it had been the way that he looked in his own white shorts and T-shirt that had thrown her; she had taken one look at him as he stood on the doorstep, his legs tanned and muscled, his arms and torso rippling with power, and she hadn’t been able to say no to joining him for a game of tennis. What could possibly be wrong with a harmless game of tennis? she had told herself as she changed. Looking at him now she knew exactly what was wrong with it; she wouldn’t be able to concentrate on anything but the complete masculinity of this man. She had a handicap before they even started the match, and there was no such thing as a handicap in tennis!

  ‘You could always have asked Moira to pass on a message,’ James said softly at her silence.

  Aura looked at him, and then quickly looked away again. She could have asked his secretary to give him a message. Why hadn’t she? She couldn’t actually have wanted to spend the afternoon with him; it would be pure madness to allow herself to be attracted to him. She was already attracted to him; the madness would be to do anything about it!

  ‘I didn’t think of it,’ she told him abruptly.

  He looked disappointed that she wasn’t about to give him the same honesty he had promised her. ‘Did you know that when you lie the freckles stand out on your nose?’ he confided softly.

  Her hand automatically moved up to cover her nose and those tell-tale freckles. ‘James—’

  ‘I wish your mother had agreed to come with us,’ he remarked thoughtfully, cutting off her protest. ‘She’s very pale, I think the fresh air might have done her some good.’

  Aura turned away, her hand dropping back to her thigh. ‘She doesn’t go out much.’

  ‘What happened?’ he frowned.

  ‘Trauma,’ she supplied abruptly. ‘My father’s death,’ she added at his expectant silence.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he told her gently. ‘It must have been awful for both of you.’

  ‘Yes,’ she acknowledged abruptly. ‘She lik
es you,’ she heard herself add, and then wondered why she had done it; the last thing this man needed was another dose of self-confidence, he was already arrogant enough for two men, had completely taken her over since they had first met. She had gone to the offices of Ballantine and Mayhew to do battle, and instead ended up with this forceful man in her life. ‘I’m not altogether sure she’s a good judge of character,’ she told him caustically.

  He smiled. ‘Of course she is.’ He sobered. ‘Can anything be done to help her?’

  ‘Not unless you can bring my father back.’ She couldn’t keep the edge out of her voice. ‘Unless you can do that I don’t think she wants to be helped.’ She turned her attention to their surroundings as she sensed his sharp gaze on her. ‘Are we almost there?’

  ‘Almost,’ he confirmed distractedly. ‘Aura—’

  ‘Do you really know John McEnroe?’ she asked sceptically.

  He looked as if her disbelief had deeply offended him. ‘Of course I know him.’

  Five minutes into their game of tennis Aura knew that whatever his coach had tried to teach James about the game, very little of it had actually been absorbed or utilised.

  She eyed him mockingly after winning the first set six love. ‘OK,’ she sighed. ‘So who was he?’

  ‘Who was who?’ James was busy wiping the perspiration from his brow, having been running all over the court chasing the ball.

  Aura felt a little sticky, but she hadn’t even worked up a sweat, sitting beside him on the wooden seat at the side of the court. ‘The John McEnroe you know,’ she said drily, sure it hadn’t been the John McEnroe.

  ‘He was my sportsmaster at school,’ James revealed unabashedly, his hair damp across his forehead. ‘I believe his opinion of my game was that I “showed absolutely no aptitude” for it.’

  Her mouth twisted. ‘I can believe that. I’ve never won a set from anyone before, let alone whitewashed them!’

  His eyes were warm as he gazed up at her, his arms resting along the length of his thighs as he sat forward. ‘My talents obviously lie in other directions,’ he told her softly.

  Aura readjusted the colourful band about her forehead. ‘How did you and your partner ever go into business together when you seem to have so little in common?’ She deliberately opted for an innocent channel for his ‘talents’ to be directed in.

  He shrugged broad shoulders, the T-shirt clinging damply to his back. ‘His father was initially my partner, and when he died I inherited Adrian,’ he added drily. ‘It has, to say the least, been a rocky partnership.’

  She wished now that she hadn’t introduced the subject of Adrian into the conversation; just talking about him made her remember what a fool she had been about him. ‘Do you want to play another set or would you like to go and get an ice-cream? My treat,’ she offered.

  ‘The ice-cream can wait.’ He stood up fluidly. ‘I have to try and leave this game with a little of my dignity left intact.’

  He was definitely an athletic man, obviously kept himself fit, and yet when it came to tennis he just didn’t have the co-ordination. It was nice to know there was something he didn’t do well!

  She took pity on him in the second set and let him win one game, although she still won the match six-love, six-one.

  ‘I think I’ve suffered enough humiliation for one day,’ he said with a grimace, putting away their rackets. ‘A work-out in the gym and jogging are my usual forms of exercise.’

  She had guessed he hadn’t attained that physique just sitting behind a desk all day, had found it hard not to let her attention sway to the masculine power of his body as he moved around the court rather than concentrating on the game. And she had no intention of falling a victim to that power again.

  ‘Come on,’ she teased. ‘I know a place where they serve ice-cream that’s home-made and hasn’t been crammed with a load of additives.’

  The shop was run by a friend of hers, and the two of them strolled into the park opposite as they ate them.

  ‘You’re really into healthy food yourself, aren’t you,’ James remarked admiringly.

  She nodded. ‘I have a friend who has a little boy who becomes a monster when he eats any food that contains the additives E100 to E300. When he was younger she fed him on all the things it’s easy for little children to eat, hamburgers, sausages, white bread, cakes, crisps—interspersed with the goodness of vegetables and fresh fruit—and he was like something demented most of the time. Helen, his mother, nearly had a nervous breakdown because he was so bad. He was aggressive, violent, didn’t sleep at night—and so neither did she. It became so bad that Helen finally insisted their doctor refer him to a psychiatrist.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘And apart from the fact that he was hyperactive they said there was nothing wrong with him,’ Aura drawled. ‘And so it went on, with Helen becoming more and more run down, and Jonathan being a little demon. And then one day Helen read an article on colourings and preservatives in food, and the effect they could sometimes have on children. She was so desperate by this time that she would have tried anything. She changed his diet completely, which didn’t please him at first, especially when he had to drink pure fruit juice instead of the diluted or fizzy kind—most of them are full of colourings and flavours. Within three days Jonathan was already a different child, bright, happy, loving. It was difficult to believe the difference it had made in him. At first Helen feared it might just be a fluke, that any day he would revert to the little monster. It’s been two and a half years now, and he’s one of the most adorable children you could ever wish to meet—as long as he doesn’t accidentally get any of those additives in his food! Helen has even had a second child, something she swore she would never do after the first year she had with Jonathan.’

  ‘Where do you come into it?’ James asked, interested.

  ‘At the time people were still very sceptical about the harm of the additives, especially as they make the food look and taste more attractive most of the time, and a lot of the manufacturers refused to accept that their products could produce this Jekyll and Hyde effect. Consequently Helen had tremendous difficulty finding food for Jonathan that wouldn’t make him feel too different from everyone else. I was looking for a business at the time—’

  ‘So you opened “Health is Wealth”,’ James realised appreciatively.

  She nodded. ‘I’m sure that if those additives can be harmful to children then they must also be harmful to adults, in ways we don’t even realise. I refuse to have anything that contains additives in my shop. You have to eat healthily to be healthy, I believe. Does that sound too much like preaching?’ she grimaced, realising how long she had gone on about her favourite subject.

  He shook his head. ‘It sounds like a woman who believes in something.’

  She gave a rueful shake of her head. ‘Like a woman who had Jonathan to stay with her for a week to give Helen a break—before she had managed to sort out his diet,’ she corrected self-derisively. ‘After only one day with him I understood why Helen couldn’t cope. As for the nights—! Five minutes’ nap in between hours of playtime nearly killed me. Of course some children just are hyperactive, although luckily Jonathan wasn’t one of those ones. He often stays with us now, he and Mummy get on very well together.’ Because Jonathan accepted ‘Aunt Meg’ exactly as she was.

  ‘I don’t know what was in or out of it, but the ice-cream was delicious.’ James put the last of it in his mouth before throwing the tub in the bin.

  Aura was suddenly mesmerised by the smear of ice-cream on his top lip. What would his reaction be if she reached up and—

  His eyes darkened. ‘Lick it off, Aura,’ he encouraged throatily.

  Her breath lodged in her throat, her startled gaze clashing with his, a blush darkening her cheeks as she realised he had been well aware of the eroticism of her thoughts. ‘We had better be going—’

  ‘Not yet.’ He clasped her shoulders, his hands a sensual caress against their nakedness. ‘Lick it of
f, Aura,’ he urged again. ‘I want to feel your tongue on me.’

  Aura didn’t think her breathing would ever return to normal as it once again stopped in her throat. He wanted to feel—! The images that statement aroused in her mind went much further than his top lip.

  ‘Please, Aura!’

  His eyes compelled her to move, and she slowly went up on tip-toes to place her mouth against his.

  As always, when she was close to this man, she was lost at the first touch, their mouths open and moist as they tasted each other.

  James finally raised his head. ‘Your tongue, Aura,’ he groaned raggedly. ‘Give it to me!’

  Her eyes closed as he enfolded her against him, feeling dizzy and excessively warm at the same time, obeying his command mindlessly, tasting him and the ice-cream together, having no doubt about which one was making her head spin; she had eaten a whole tub of the delicious ice-cream without feeling in the least light-headed, but the smallest taste of James left her hungering for more.

  And she took more, moving down his jaw and throat with open-mouth kisses, reaching the open neck of his T-shirt, the slightly salty taste of his flesh making her thirst, and melt, and ache …!

  His hands threaded through the silky softness of her hair as he raised her face to his once again, the kiss fiercer this time, their bodies touching from chest to thigh.

  Aura felt herself spinning out of control, wanting to be even closer to him, caressing the hardness of his back as she clung to him.

  ‘—youngsters of today have no shame,’ muttered a disgusted male voice. ‘In our day we would at least have gone somewhere a little more private to do that sort of thing!’

  It took a few seconds for the words to penetrate the sensual spell Aura and James were under, but it finally did, and they looked about them dazedly, the park as deserted as it had been earlier—except for an elderly couple walking their dog some distance away, the woman seeming to be asking her husband exactly how often he had ‘gone somewhere a little more private to do that sort of thing’ when he was younger—because he certainly hadn’t been with her at the time!