by Kay Thorpe
Ross was due any minute. They were using the limousine to take them to the charity do, along with Michael’s services. It wouldn’t do, Gina had gathered from Elinor, to arrive at a function like this in anything other. She was nervous, she had to admit. This was her first time out in public, so to speak. She wondered who Ross would have been taking if he weren’t taking her. He would have had a wide choice for certain.
Bracing herself, she took a final glance in the mirror, then swept up the filmy stole and slim evening purse, and made for the door.
Ross had already arrived. Stomach tensing in the stark black and white, he watched her descend the stairs, eyes scanning her from top to toe with an expression she found encouraging.
‘You look stunning!’ he said.
‘Doesn’t she!’ echoed Elinor with some self-congratulation, watching from a doorway.
Ross took the stole from her, hands lingering for a heartbeat as he slid it about her shoulders. Gina could feel the firm warmth of them through the fine material, stirring memories of the way they’d felt on her bare skin less than a week ago. He had to be aware of the tremor running through her.
If he was, he gave no sign of it. Elinor saw the pair of them off with satisfaction oozing from every pore. Looking rather less po-faced than usual, Michael saw them into the car before getting behind the wheel.
‘Do you have to wait around to bring us back?’ Gina queried when they were moving.
‘Yes, ma’am,’ he said.
‘Not tonight,’ Ross told him easily. ‘We’ll take a cab when we’re ready.’
‘That’s very good of you, sir.’ Michael sounded a little taken-aback. ‘Lydia will be pleased.’
Ross put the screen up, indicating an end to the conversation: a move Gina found a little embarrassing.
‘Don’t you chat with staff?’ she asked pointedly.
‘Not when I have other things on my mind,’ he said. ‘You realise you’re going to be the centre of a great deal of attention tonight? And not just for the way you look.’
‘Meaning word got around about the will?’ she asked after a moment.
‘Meaning word got around. It’s caused a stir, to say the least. You’ve had no media approach yet?’
‘No.’ Gina was alarmed. ‘Am I likely to have?’
‘Very much so. It’s a big story. Somebody might even fancy making a film of it.’
‘You’re joking!’
The smile was fleeting. ‘Stranger things have happened. You said you’d maybe missed your true vocation. You could play yourself.’
It was Gina’s turn to smile. ‘I’ll pass, thanks.’ She hesitated before tagging on diffidently, ‘If you were planning on coming to this thing before all this happened, you must have had a partner already in mind.’
‘True,’ he confirmed.
‘She must feel very…disgruntled about it. About it all, in fact.’
Amusement crinkled his eyes. ‘That’s one way of putting it.’
‘But you’ll have told her the marriage is only temporary, of course.’
‘I see no reason to tell anyone,’ he said. ‘It’s strictly between the two of us.’
‘You really don’t give a damn, do you?’ Gina accused.
Leaning comfortably into the corner of his seat, Ross regarded her with ironically lifted brows. ‘Why the surprise? You had me down for a bastard less than twenty-four hours after we met.’
‘Sound judgement,’ she returned caustically. ‘Women are obviously just cannon fodder to you!’
His mouth curved again. ‘You certainly have a way with words! I wouldn’t say I’d sown any more wild oats than other men my age.’
‘But marriage never figured on the agenda.’
‘In this town, it’s a path to disaster.’
‘Your mother and Oliver lasted pretty well,’ she pointed out.
‘The exception, not the rule.’ There was a pause, a subtle change of tone. ‘How did your folks take the news?’
More a desire for a change of subject than any real interest, Gina conjectured. ‘I didn’t tell them yet,’ she admitted reluctantly.
Dark brows drew together. ‘Why not?’
‘I’m still having difficulty accepting it all myself.’ That was certainly no lie. ‘I’m planning to ring them tomorrow.’
‘Your partner too—assuming you haven’t told her either?’
‘Barbara too.’
‘You still intend handing over the business to her wholesale?’
‘Of course,’ she said. ‘I’m hardly going to need the income.’
‘True enough. All the same, it’s a gesture many wouldn’t be prepared to make. I hope she appreciates it.’
Right now, Gina had other concerns on her mind. Another few minutes, and she would be facing a world she’d hitherto only seen on screen: the centre of attention, Ross had warned. It was going to take every ounce of self-confidence she could muster to get her through the coming hours—to say nothing of the days and weeks following. Why, oh, why had she agreed to this fiasco?
The event was being held at the downtown Harlow. Flashbulbs started popping the moment they alighted from the car, while a host of clamouring journalists pressed in around them. Ross handled it all with aplomb, whisking her straight through to the hotel foyer.
Gina hadn’t been in the place before this, and was impressed with its size and dignified splendour. Ross was greeted from all sides as they mingled with the crowd already occupying the spacious lobby, fielding the comments with an insouciance Gina wished she could emulate. She lost count of names and faces, although she recognised several stars of film and television. She felt totally overwhelmed. Never in a million years could she fit in to this environment, she thought depressedly.
But then, she wasn’t going to need to, was she? Not for long, at any rate.
Two television crews were filming the arrivals. Ross avoided one presenter making a beeline for them by steering her into a lift about to close its doors. He left his hand where it was under her elbow as they rose to the top floor. The heels she was wearing brought her eyes on a level with his jawline. She could see the smooth, firm line on the periphery of her vision, catch the faint scent of his aftershave. The tension inside her at the moment had nothing to do with nerves.
Lit by glittering chandeliers, the huge room scintillated with crystal and silver, the carpet underfoot so thick, Gina could feel her heels sinking half an inch into it. Their table was way up at the front on the edge of the dance floor, with yet another gauntlet to run by way of the people already seated there. The smile on her face felt permanently etched.
Two of the other couples were mere acquaintances, she gathered. Both in their thirties, Meryl and Jack Thornton were old friends, involved in real estate. They put her at ease immediately, whatever curiosity they might feel kept under bounds.
Gina found the sumptuous five-course meal more than a little incongruous considering the purpose for which the event was being held. There was dancing between courses. Held close in Ross’s arms, the hard muscularity of his thighs against hers, she felt the tension mounting. She could tell herself he was an out-and-out swine until the cows came home, but it made absolutely no difference to the effect he was having on her. She wanted him desperately.
The brush of his lips against her cheek almost finished her. ‘Keep feeling the same way,’ he murmured against her skin. ‘The evening won’t last for ever.’
She should tell him to get lost, she knew, but she couldn’t summon the necessary strength of mind. That he could still find her desirable in a room containing so much feminine beauty was a stimulus in itself. Why not make the most of what time they had together? she asked herself. Cliché it might be, but half a loaf was still better than none.
It was coming up to midnight before the main purpose of the evening was brought to the fore. The charity was for children in need. Gina wasn’t all that surprised to hear Harlows announced as one of the main sponsors. The devastation came when
she was asked up along with Ross to front the appeal for further donations from those present.
‘Bear with it,’ he murmured as they made their way forward.
She did, though only just. Keeping a smile on her face, knowing speculation was rife throughout the whole assembly, was one of the most arduous things she’d ever done. She envied the ease with which Ross launched into a brief spiel about the aims of the charity, only too thankful that she wasn’t called on to say anything herself.
Both cheques and cash were deposited in the baskets that were circulated among the guests with a readiness she found admirable. The people here were all of them moneyed, but that didn’t necessarily foster philanthropy.
‘I keep trying to persuade Ross to invest in a property,’ Meryl declared when the two of them visited the powder room together a little later, ‘but he won’t play. Not that I can blame him too much, considering his place. Terrific, isn’t it?’
‘I haven’t seen it yet,’ Gina admitted.
‘You haven’t?’ Meryl sounded surprised. ‘I’d have thought…’ She broke off, shaking her head in self-recrimination. ‘Forget it.’
Gina took the bull by the horns. ‘You don’t have to keep treading lightly round the subject. It has to be a pretty general topic at the moment.’
Meryl laughed, obviously relieved. ‘You could say that! It’s been a bit of a shock, I have to admit. Even more so for Ross, I imagine. He’s managed to steer well clear of marriage up to now. Not for want of trying by at least one person I could mention.’
Gina concentrated on applying lipstick. ‘No one here tonight?’
‘I guess she would have been if you hadn’t come into the picture. She’ll be fuming. No man puts Dione Richards aside—even for a future wife!’
Gina felt her stomach turn over. ‘The Dione Richards?’ she asked.
‘The one and only. You’ve seen her films?’
‘A couple of them.’
‘Hardly the world’s greatest actress, but good box office. One look into those big baby blues and men turn to mush! Jack no exception,’ she added drily. She viewed Gina appraisingly through the mirror. ‘You aren’t at the back of the line when it comes to looks yourself. Terrific figure too! Lucky Ross. He could have been stuck with a real plain Jane.’
For what difference it made, Gina reflected on the way back to the table. Dione Richards had been voted the most beautiful woman in the world only last year. Who could compete with that?
The intimate little smile Ross gave her on her return to the table was a boost nevertheless. Dione might have the edge on looks, but she didn’t have the man. Not tonight, at any rate. She was probably being all kinds of a fool in contemplating what she was contemplating, but she couldn’t help herself. She wanted him. Right now, that was all she could think about.
People were already beginning to leave. Gina was more than half expecting the suggestion that they call it a day themselves. From the look in Meryl’s eyes when they took their leave, the other woman was well aware of where they were heading. She schooled herself not to care. She was doing what a whole lot of others did for once, and seizing the moment.
There was a cab already waiting. Gina made no demur when Ross told the driver to take them to the Beverly Hills Harlow. She held nothing back when he drew her to him to kiss her.
‘I’ve been wanting to do that all evening,’ he said against her hair.
‘So why didn’t you?’ she murmured. ‘Plenty of others were kissing.’
His laugh was low-pitched. ‘I don’t believe in starting something I can’t finish.’
The champagne she had consumed was making her head swim; the movement of the car wasn’t helping. She made an effort to focus her mind on other things.
‘Neither do I,’ she said.
He kissed her again, teasing her lips apart with the tip of his tongue and bringing the blood hammering into her ears. The silky probing of the soft inner flesh was electrifying. She felt a dampness between her thighs, a spasming in her groin: sensations that for the present overrode everything else.
It was only when she got out of the car at the hotel that the nausea began to make itself felt. She did her best to tamp the queasiness down. It would pass, she assured herself. She hadn’t had all that much.
There were few people in the lobby. Even so, Gina was aware of eyes following the pair of them as they made their way to a small, obviously private lift off the main concourse. The motion as they rose was of no assistance whatsoever. She could only hope and pray that she wouldn’t throw up.
She had only the vaguest impression of her surroundings when Ross opened the door. He’d made no attempt at conversation in the lift, nor did he say anything now. He took her arm and steered her to another door leading off the entrance hall, opening it to reveal a bathroom. Right then, Gina had but the one thought in mind. She made it just in time.
It seemed an age before the retching stopped. Even then, her head wouldn’t stop whirling. How could she have been so stupid? she thought miserably. She’d told Ross she didn’t like champagne, when what she should have said was that it generally didn’t like her. Ignoring that danger simply because everyone else was drinking the stuff and she needed the boost was ridiculous.
Well, she was paying for it now. She must be the first woman he had ever brought back here who’d finished up with her head stuck down a toilet bowl! The mere thought of facing him after this was enough to stir nausea again.
It had to be done, of course. She could hardly stay in here all night. A face and mouth rinse went some small way towards refreshing her, but there was no denying the unsteadiness still in her limbs when she finally emerged from the bathroom.
Waiting in the hallway, Ross viewed her with apparently solicitous enquiry. ‘Better?’ he asked.
Gina nodded, not trusting her voice, wishing she hadn’t as pain spliced through her head.
‘Obviously not,’ he said, seeing her wince. ‘Feeling dizzy?’
There was no point denying it when every step she took betrayed the fact. ‘I’m sorry about this,’ she got out.
His shrug was dismissive. ‘It happens. I should have remembered what you said about not liking champagne.’
‘I didn’t have to drink it,’ she responded. ‘If you’ll call a cab, I—’
‘You can’t go anywhere like that,’ he cut in decisively. ‘You’d better use the spare room for tonight, and we’ll see how you feel in the morning.’
‘I can’t…’ she began, desisting abruptly as her stomach contracted again. There was no way she dared get in a car feeling this way. ‘I’m sorry,’ she repeated. ‘I know you were expecting…’
There was irony in the smile that touched his lips as she let the words trail away. ‘I’ll get over it. Think you can make it to the bedroom—or shall I carry you?’
‘I’m a bit dizzy, not paralytic!’ she said, seeking refuge in humour, however weak. ‘What about your mother? Won’t she be concerned if I don’t turn up?’
‘I doubt it.’ The irony was there in his voice this time.
Meaning Elinor would probably have taken it for granted that the two of them would be spending the night together, Gina assumed. And why not? They were both adults. The fact that right now she felt anything but was another story.
The bedroom he took her to was large and beautifully furnished, the two beds queen sized. There was an en suite, Ross pointed out.
‘Can you cope OK?’ he asked from the doorway.
Gina forced herself to look at him directly. He had taken off both jacket and tie while she’d been in the bathroom, and loosened the collar of his pristine white dress shirt. Hair ruffled as though from the passage of a hand through it, he looked like a man who’d undergone, and was probably still undergoing, severe frustration. Hardly to be wondered at considering the way she’d been in the car.
‘I’ll be fine,’ she said, wishing she could believe it. ‘Goodnight, Ross. And…thanks.’
‘No problem.�
�
He closed the door softly between them, leaving her standing there biting her lip. She’d made a total fool of herself, and for what? Ross wasn’t going to develop any deeper feelings than he’d already shown for her. There was every possibility that after tonight, he wouldn’t want to know anyway.
She awoke to the faint sound of music. Memory brought a swift return of last night’s depression, forcibly overcome. There was nothing to be gained from wallowing in it.
Lifting her head cautiously from the pillows, she was relieved to feel no more than a faint tightness behind her eyes. She might deserve to suffer a hangover, but it would have been more than she could cope with.
Surprisingly, it was only a little gone eight o’clock. The dress she’d taken off last night was slung over a chair: the thought of putting it on again was anathema to her, but she didn’t have much choice.
She’d slept nude. Taking up the scanty lace bra and matching panties, she went through to the en suite, regarding her bleary-eyed appearance in wry distaste. Her hair didn’t look too bad, and would look even better with a brush through, but all she had in her purse was a lipstick. Not that Ross was likely to give a damn how she looked this morning.
She took a shower, and donned her underwear. The long white towelling bathrobe hung on the door was just about her size. Obviously kept ready for female visitors using the spare bathroom, Gina thought, and took it. It went against the grain to wear something others had worn before her—even if it did smell freshly laundered—but at least it saved her from putting on the dress again right away.
The music was still playing when she left the bedroom. Double doors gave access to a living area the size of a football field, with floor-to-ceiling windows providing a superb view out to the mountains.
Wearing a silk robe over what appeared to be black pyjama trousers, Ross was seated at a table on the balcony that ran the whole width of the room. He looked up from his newspaper as she emerged, the lift of his eyebrow asking the question.
‘I’m OK,’ she said, reluctant to look at him directly. ‘Is that coffee I can smell?’
