Bundle of Brides

by Kay Thorpe

  He took up the pot without answering, and poured another cup, pushing it across to her as she took a seat.

  ‘You look like a well-scrubbed schoolgirl,’ he observed.

  ‘I feel like a thoroughly chastised one,’ she returned. ‘I should have had more sense!’

  ‘If wishes were horses,’ he quoted. ‘I’ve over-indulged too many times in the past myself to come the heavy.’

  ‘But not to the same extent, I’ll bet.’

  ‘I was lucky enough to finish up with just a bad head. You don’t have to flay yourself. You’re not the first, you won’t be the last.’

  She glanced at him from beneath her lashes, every sense alive to the impact of the lean-featured, freshly shaved face. The robe revealed a glimpse of sun-kissed bare chest. She touched the tip of her tongue to dry lips.

  ‘Hungry?’ he asked, jerking her head up. She met his eyes in some confusion, sure he must know exactly what was going through her mind.

  If he did, he was keeping it to himself. His expression was devoid of irony.

  ‘A bit,’ she admitted. ‘Do you have a kitchen?’

  ‘There’s a service area behind the screen over there,’ indicating the far side of the room. ‘I make my own coffee and toast, or even occasionally produce a full breakfast, but I use Room Service for everything else when I’m in. What do you fancy?’

  ‘Toast sounds good. I can make it myself,’ she added quickly.

  The smile was brief. ‘I’ve no intention of stopping you. You can do me a couple of slices while you’re at it.’

  She went back inside to cross to the screened area, finding time on the way to appraise the light, modern decor. The furnishings were Scandinavian, she guessed, the quality outstanding. But then, what else would she expect?

  As anticipated, the kitchen—or service area, as Ross preferred to call it—was well-equipped with both storage and appliances, including a typical American refrigerator-freezer big enough to house a whole family’s food for a year. Gina took a peep inside while she was waiting for the toast to cook, finding it somewhat sparsely stocked. No point in keeping a lot of food around, she supposed, if Ross didn’t do much cooking for himself.

  There had been no butter on the table out there, from what she could recall. She put a dish of the small individual packs on a tray along with a selection of preserves and the rack of toast, added cutlery and bore the whole lot outside.

  ‘Very domesticated,’ Ross commented, eyeing the spread.

  Gina found a laugh, determined to carry this through with nonchalance—no matter how spurious. ‘The product of my upbringing.’

  He took a piece of the toast and spread butter on it, ignoring the preserves. ‘Maybe something to be said for it after all.’

  ‘I hardly see you settling for a domesticated lifestyle,’ she said lightly.

  ‘There could be advantages.’

  ‘Like having a woman available at all times?’

  The tilt of a lip brought sudden warmth to her cheeks. She hadn’t meant to say that, it had just slipped out.

  ‘Not that you’ve ever had any difficulty in that direction, of course,’ she added, digging herself an even deeper hole.

  ‘I did last night,’ he observed. He watched her colour rise with a certain relish. ‘You still owe me.’

  ‘I owe you nothing!’ she retorted, resenting the implication. ‘I’m sorry if you were frustrated, but like you said a while ago, it happens!’

  The grey eyes mocked her anger. ‘Calm down. I’m not claiming immediate reparation. In fact, I’ll be taking you back to Buena Vista shortly. We’re leaving for Vancouver this afternoon.’

  Gina gazed at him in stunned silence for a moment, the wind taken completely from her sails. She’d forgotten completely about the proposed trip. Even if she’d remembered, she wouldn’t have expected it to be quite this soon.

  ‘We’ll be taking one of the company jets, so there’s no hard and fast timetable,’ Ross continued. ‘You’ll need enough for two or three days. You might want to stick a swimsuit in too. The Vancouver Harlow has three pools.’

  Gina found her voice with an effort. ‘I really can’t see the point in my coming with you.’

  ‘Experience,’ he said. ‘If you’re serious about staying on board after the divorce, you need all you can get.’

  ‘If that’s meant to remind me that the marriage will only be temporary, it isn’t necessary!’ she flashed. ‘I wouldn’t try denying the physical attraction, but that’s as far as it goes for me too.’

  ‘Then we’ve neither of us anything to worry about,’ he returned, unmoved. ‘Better eat your toast, before it goes completely cold.’

  Gina forbore from further comment. Refusing out of hand to accompany him on this trip would call for reasons she wasn’t prepared to give. For all his talk of owing him, she doubted if he meant it. Seeing her drunk and incapable last night, and scrubbed clean like a schoolgirl this morning—as he’d so delicately put it—was enough to put any man off for life.

  She finished the toast with little appetite. There was a canopy over the part of the balcony they were occupying, affording shade from the full glare of the sun, but the heat was steadily rising. Green and verdant, the mountains looked cool and inviting.

  ‘You can go up there another day,’ Ross said, following the direction of her gaze. He pushed back his chair and got to his feet, not bothering to catch the belt of his robe as the two ends slid silkily apart. ‘I’ll go and get dressed. See you in ten.’

  Gina stayed right where she was. It was hardly going to take her any time at all to throw on the only garment available to her. The glimpse she’d just had of that well-toned body had set every nerve-end tingling again. She needed a moment or two to bring her pulse rate down.

  The way she felt at present, a flight home was a more sensible course than the trip to Vancouver. Except that sense didn’t come into it. She’d committed herself by accepting the condition in the first place. The future of the company was at stake too. Warren couldn’t be allowed to gain control.

  She had to force herself to move in the end. The door to what she assumed was Ross’s bedroom was partly ajar when she went out into the hall. From the sound of it, he was on the phone, his tone lightly placatory.

  ‘Naturally I would. It was unavoidable in the circumstances. I’m going to be out of town for a few days, but I’ll give you a call as soon as I get back.’

  Gina continued on her way feeling even more disconsolate. That was Dione Richards he was talking to, for certain. She filled in the unspoken part of the first overheard sentence, ‘Naturally I would rather have been with you.’ He almost certainly wouldn’t have suffered the frustration she had inflicted on him.

  He was ready and waiting in jeans and a T-shirt when she emerged wearing the green dress.

  ‘Is there a back way out?’ she asked. ‘If I have to cross the lobby in this, everyone will know I spent the night here.’

  ‘The staff will know anyway. Hotel grapevines are second to none.’ Ross sounded unconcerned. ‘There is a back way, but I can’t guarantee a clear run. Hold your head up and look them straight in the eye. It’s nobody’s business but ours.’

  All very well for him to talk, she thought sourly.

  They descended to the ground floor without speaking, emerging round the corner from the main concourse and heading down a long corridor lined with doors. Expecting one of them to open any minute, Gina drew a breath of relief when they turned another corner to traverse a narrower corridor, with windows overlooking the rear of the hotel. Ross pushed a pair of fire doors open to afford an exit onto a large paved area backed by a line of huge bins.

  ‘Stay here, if you’re still feeling sensitive, and I’ll fetch the cab I ordered round for you,’ he said.

  ‘Cab?’ she queried.

  The glance he gave her was impatient. ‘I left my car up at the house. If I take another, that’s going to be stuck there too.’

  ‘Of course.’
She summoned a smile. ‘You’re right, I’m being ridiculous. I’ll come with you.’

  It took a few minutes to walk round to the front of the place. Her bravado went into swift decline when she saw all the comings and goings, revived by sheer force of will. Head up, she stalked to the waiting cab, ignoring the glances cast her way.

  Like cabbies the world over, the driver showed no reaction to her appearance, but simply put the vehicle into motion. If she’d been on her own, Gina could have relaxed a little; with Ross seated beside her, there was no chance. The effect he had on her was unchanged by last night’s fiasco. The merest brush of his bare arm against hers sent a surge like an electric shock through her body. She wished she’d never slept with him at all. What wasn’t known couldn’t be missed.

  CHAPTER SIX

  IT WAS almost ten when they reached the house. Ross declined to come indoors with her.

  ‘I’ve things to see to before we go,’ he said. ‘I’ll pick you up at two. Wear something—’

  ‘Comfortable,’ Gina finished for him. ‘Yes, I know.’

  She didn’t wait to see him drive off. There was no one around when she went inside. She made her bedroom in double-quick time, closing the door in some small relief.

  The dress left ready to be taken for cleaning, she slid into a pair of jeans and pulled a T-shirt over her head, before turning her attention to the question of packing. Two or three days, Ross had said. A pretty lengthy tour of inspection.

  The only suitcase she had available was the one she’d brought with her just two weeks ago. She chose clothes at random from the selection now in the wardrobes, picking out a lightweight trouser suit to wear on the plane. This was a business trip, nothing else. From now on, she concentrated all her attention in that direction.

  It was still only eleven. Leaving her face bare of makeup for the present, she made her way back downstairs to seek Elinor.

  The latter was under an umbrella down on the pool deck. She looked up from her book with a welcoming smile.

  ‘Hi! How long have you been back?’

  ‘About an hour.’ Gina sank to a seat on a nearby lounger, eyeing the older woman with some reserve. ‘Aren’t you going to ask what happened?’

  Elinor laughed. ‘Honey, the way you looked last night, I don’t need to ask! I knew the two of you were made for each other the first time I saw you together. Maybe it isn’t exactly the ideal way to start a marriage, but you’ll make a go of it. You’re off to a good start already.’

  Torn by guilt again, Gina opted for some light relief. ‘I wouldn’t be too sure about that. I drank too much champagne and made myself ill. I spent the night in Ross’s guest room.’

  ‘Poor Ross!’ Elinor’s eyes were sparkling. ‘He must be feeling really deprived! Not that you need worry. Starvation only increases the appetite. Are you packed yet?’

  Gina looked at her blankly. ‘You knew about this afternoon?’

  ‘Only since last night. Ross told me while we were waiting for you to come down. He’s planning to spend the weekend on Vancouver Island after you get through vetting the new place apparently. It will be good for the two of you to have a couple of days on your own together.

  ‘I’m going to start needing your help with the wedding plans when you get back,’ she added. ‘The organisers have everything in hand with regard to the church and reception, but we have to get your dress chosen. There isn’t going to be time to have it made, but we’ll find something suitable. What about bridesmaids?’

  Gina shook her head, hardly knowing what to say.

  ‘I’ve a cousin with twin daughters your age, if you’ve no one else in mind. They’d be thrilled to do it!’

  ‘That would be great.’

  The wedding was the last thing Gina wanted to talk about—the last thing she wanted to think about right now. If Ross hadn’t already aborted the Vancouver Island idea, he could forget it. A celibate relationship offered far fewer pitfalls.

  Clad casually himself in trousers and open-necked shirt, with a light linen jacket, he arrived at five minutes to the hour.

  ‘Glad to see you took me at my word,’ he commented, approving the suit. He glanced down at the smallish suitcase she’d handed him. ‘Is this it?’

  ‘You said two or three days,’ she returned.

  ‘And you believe in travelling light. I should have remembered.’ He looked at his mother. ‘I’ll call tonight. Are you going to be OK?’

  A bit late to be thinking of that, Gina thought, although Elinor didn’t seem concerned.

  ‘I’ll be fine,’ she assured him. ‘I’m out to dinner tonight, meeting a group for lunch tomorrow, and attending a charity affair in the afternoon, so I’ll be pretty busy. I’ll look forward to hearing all about it when you get back,’ she added to Gina.

  On impulse, Gina went over and kissed her on the cheek. ‘I’ll keep a daily diary,’ she promised.

  Ross glanced at his watch. ‘I know I said time wasn’t pressing, but I’d like to at least get in the air before dark!’

  ‘Patience,’ admonished his mother, ‘is a virtue!’

  ‘The beggar’s virtue.’ He opened the front passenger door of the waiting car. ‘Ready?’

  Gina slid into the seat feeling anything but, pulses dancing the usual fandango as the scent of his aftershave tantalised her nostrils. No backsliding, she told herself resolutely. She couldn’t afford to become any more involved than she already was.

  Seating eight, the sleek private jet was all soft leather and walnut inside. Apart from a slight detour to avoid a storm front building over the Sierra Nevada range, they made good time, landing at Vancouver at six-thirty.

  There was a limousine waiting to take them directly to the hotel. Impressive enough from the outside, the latter was even more so inside, the lobby alone a symphony in glass and sumptuous carpeting. Unlike the general chains, every Harlow was designed differently to suit its intended clientele: an individuality that had helped make the company name what it was. Gina very much approved of those differences herself. She’d stayed in hotels where even the pictures on the bedroom walls were obviously out of a job lot spread around the chain.

  They were greeted with deference by the general manager himself, and efficiently roomed in adjoining suites. There were connecting doors between the two, Gina noted, securely locked at present.

  Ross had elected to have dinner in one of the four restaurants. Dressing for it in a simple linen tunic that had cost enough to have kept her for a month back home, she went back over the flight in her mind’s eye.

  Conversation had proved surprisingly easy. Ross had even refrained from ironic comment when she’d asked the hostess looking after them for an orange juice instead of champagne. It seemed pretty obvious that he’d lost interest in persuing the physical side of their relationship, for which she could hardly blame him. What she needed to do was foster the same attitude.

  One look at him when he called for her, tall, dark and devastating in a silver-grey suit, and she was forced to acknowledge herself a lost cause. She would just have to live with it, she thought resignedly.

  ‘Nice outfit,’ he commented.

  ‘I try,’ she said, wondering how she could sound so collected when every part of her yearned for contact with that hard, masculine body. ‘I imagine word will have gone round by now that you’re in the building.’

  ‘That we’re in the building,’ he corrected. ‘Having the general manager check us in will have set the ball in motion. I’d have preferred him to keep it low-key.’

  ‘So that you could see how the place was being run without people knowing who you are?’ she hazarded, eliciting a brief smile.

  ‘The departmental heads are hand-picked. Poached from other hotels in some cases. For what they’re being paid, I think they can be trusted to keep things running smoothly, whether we’re here or not. I haven’t noted a single thing to complain about as yet. The way it should be.’ His voice briskened. ‘If you’re ready.’


  The chosen restaurant was on the first floor—second here, Gina reminded herself—and already well populated. While he addressed them both by name, the maître d’ refrained from making any deferential show as he saw them seated. Their table was in an alcove affording privacy from their immediate neighbours. A prior arrangement on Ross’s part, Gina fancied.

  Pristine white damask cloths set with sparkling crystal and silverware made an excellent impression. An arrangement of seasonal flowers occupied central position: renewed every day, judging from their unblemished appearance. The lighting was designed to cast a soft glow over every table: enough to see what was being eaten, but immensely flattering to the skin.

  ‘It’s all so beautifully done,’ Gina commented. She gave a laugh, determined to keep her end up. ‘If you’d told me even a month ago that I’d be living it up on this level, I’d never have believed it!’

  Ross regarded her with tolerant expression. ‘You’ll get accustomed to it. A few more months, and you’ll be taking it all for granted.’

  ‘The way you do?’ she said, shying away from thoughts of that future.

  ‘It’s been a part of my life for the last twenty years. The first fourteen weren’t exactly on the breadline either. My father was a banker. A bit of a womaniser too, unfortunately. And if you say, like father, like son, I’ll put you across my knee,’ he threatened.

  ‘What, here?’ she asked. ‘That would be a new kind of floor show!’

  He laughed. ‘Are you ever stuck fast for an answer?’

  ‘Only when I’m drunk.’ She pulled a wry face. ‘I felt a total wreck this morning!’

  ‘You looked remarkably far from it,’ he said. ‘Few women can get away with a bare face in bright sunlight—especially after spending half the night throwing up.’

  ‘It wasn’t half the night,’ she said in mock indignation, trying not to read too much into the compliment. ‘It just felt like it.’

  ‘Forget it,’ he advised. ‘I’m going to.’

  The arrival of the wine waiter took his attention. Not about to take any risks, Gina asked for a kir. Ross ordered a bottle of some wine she didn’t recognise by name for himself.