Kate Walker - Hers For A Night

Cover Page

Excerpt “It’s only for one night. The next day we say our goodbyes and leave.” “Together,” Lucas put in. “Of course together! We’ll travel home and that will be that. It’s just twenty-four hours. Midnight to midnight, then we’ll go our separate ways. We need never see each other again.” Lucas looked thoughtful. “There’s just one thing that puzzles me. I don’t understand why, when you’ve gone to all this trouble arranging a date and telling your parents, you’re still so insistent on keeping things strictly business. Why not make it for real? Then we could have some fun.” “Fun?” Georgia spluttered indignantly. “And I suppose by fun you mean—” “I mean this,” Lucas drawled softly and, leaning forward, he kissed her right on the mouth.

About the Author KATE WALKER was born in Nottinghamshire, England, but as she grew up in Yorkshire she has always felt that her roots were there. She met her husband at university and she originally worked as a children’s librarian, but after the birth of her son she returned to her old childhood love of writing. When she’s not working, she divides her time between her family, their three cats and her interests of embroidery, antiques, film and theater and, of course, reading.

Dedication Look out next month for The Groom’s Revenge by Kate Walker, #2035.

Title Page Hers For A Night Kate Walker www.millsandboon.co.uk

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Copyright

“Together,” Lucas put in.

“Of course together! We’ll travel home and that will be that. It’s just twenty-four hours. Midnight to midnight, then we’ll go our separate ways. We need never see each other again.”

Lucas looked thoughtful.

“There’s just one thing that puzzles me. I don’t understand why, when you’ve gone to all this trouble arranging a date and telling your parents, you’re still so insistent on keeping things strictly business. Why not make it for real? Then we could have some fun.”

“Fun?” Georgia spluttered indignantly. “And I suppose by fun you mean—”

“I mean this,” Lucas drawled softly and, leaning forward, he kissed her right on the mouth.

KATE WALKER was born in Nottinghamshire, England, but as she grew up in Yorkshire she has always felt that her roots were there. She met her husband at university and she originally worked as a children’s librarian, but after the birth of her son she returned to her old childhood love of writing. When she’s not working, she divides her time between her family, their three cats and her interests of embroidery, antiques, film and theater and, of course, reading.

Look out next month for The Groom’s Revenge by Kate Walker, #2035.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

‘AND now, ladies and gentlemen, we come to the high spot of the evening—the moment I’m sure you’ve all been waiting for!’

The woman standing on the stage at the far end of the large, luxurious dining room banged her gavel on the table in front of her in order to gain attention, even though it was obvious that she had no need to do so. Every head in the crowd before her was already turned in her direction, the buzz of conversation fading to a silence that was somehow electric with a new and expectant excitement.

‘Here we go,’ Georgia muttered to herself, sitting upright in her chair and running a hand over her sleek copper-coloured hair before adjusting the short skirt of her mint-green silk suit, infected by the tension as much as everyone else.

This was what she had come here for. This was the reason—the only reason—she had paid the exorbitant ticket price and endured an indifferent meal, a less than enjoyable cabaret.

‘Lot twenty-five in our charity auction. A very special offer indeed for the connoisseur. A must for any lady with discerning taste and a bank balance to match! I’m sure that more than one of you would be willing to spend any amount to purchase the services—’ the elegant brunette rolled her eyes dramatically ‘—of this particularman for a day. Ladies and gentlemen, our star attraction—Mr Lucas Mallory!’

Star attraction indeed, Georgia thought to herself, and from the look of him this man knew it only too well.

Others before him had ambled down the catwalk in the centre of the room with an embarrassed, almost shamefaced air, as if they couldn’t quite believe their own behaviour in appearing in a ‘slave auction’ like this. Some had attempted a more confident swagger, but had only succeeded in looking cocksure and rather silly, and others had been so painfully ill at ease that Georgia had winced inwardly in empathic embarrassment.

In contrast to such displays, Lucas Mallory strolled out into the glare of the spotlight with the easy, unruffled confidence of a man born to public favour and acclaim.

Everything about him, his firmly upright carriage, the assured lift of his chin, the measured, hunting-cat grace with which he moved, declared that he was sure of his welcome. Without a word having to be spoken he made it plain that he had never doubted for a moment what his reception would be like.

And he was right, of course. The ripple of applause that greeted his appearance swelled in volume as he strolled down the catwalk, growing to a thunderous roar when he came to a halt at the end. From his higher position, he surveyed the crowded room with leisurely nonchalance, a faint smile curving the corners of his beautifully shaped mouth and one dark eyebrow lifting in teasing challenge.

‘Oh, very cool!’ Georgia commented under her breath, her tone a blend of admiration and cynicism.

She was well aware of the fact that ‘Cool’ was reported to be Lucas Mallory’s middle name. Nothing, it was said, but nothing fazed him in any way at all. Even the appalling crash that had almost claimed his life hadn’t stirred a single shining hair on that handsome head.

‘I’m sure that I don’t have to tell you anything about Lucas Mallory.’ On the stage, the auctioneer was warming to her theme. ‘But for those of you who have been asleep for the past ten years or have just flown in from some far distant planet, let me say that the man before you was a World Champion racing driver. He won that accolade three times in succession, and might possibly have achieved a fourth win if it hadn’t been for a run of bad luck that ended in his unexpectedly early retirement.’

Mr Cool hadn’t liked that reference to his last, disastrous year in Grand Prix racing, Georgia reflected, seeing the tiny frown that creased the space between the straight, black brows. Clearly he would much rather have retired with yet another golden prize under his belt instead of being forced out of the competition by a string of problems and near disasters that made it seem as if his legendary luck had finally deserted him.

‘But since then he has not been content to rest on his laurels. Instead, he has turned his attention to business, making a second fortune restoring and selling classic cars. So you can see that the woman who makes the winning bid tonight will be a lucky lady indeed. In fact, I can only bemoan the fact that I am not allowed to take part in this particular auction!’

The look the elegant brunette turned on Lucas Mallory could only be described as idolatrous, and Georgia felt a twist of deep cynicism as she saw the man at the end of the catwalk respond with a smile of megawatt brilliance that was clearly designed to have her, and every other woman in the room, melting into a warm pool at his feet.