KIM LAWRENCE - Wedding-Night Baby

‘Well, at least you’ve not objected to spending the night with me,’ he said, pleased to see the distrust swallowed up by horror.

‘I have no intention of spending the night with you. I’ll spend the night with Mother.’

‘Who left a little earlier... and she wasn’t alone. You might not be welcome there.’

She swallowed, admitting the accuracy of his surmise. ‘How did you know I don’t need to be in work till Tuesday? ’ she said, suddenly realising a point that had been niggling at the back of her mind.

‘You must have told me,’ he said carelessly. ‘Whilst you were elaborating on your amazingly responsible position.’

She sucked in her breath wrathfully. The faint curl of disdain on his lips made her stiffen. ‘I wasn’t aware I said anything of the sort. You seem doubtful that I’m capable of working.’

He shrugged. ‘It depends on how far you got due to your pretty face.’

Now she knew he was being sarcastic; pretty was one thing her face was not! ‘I got where I am due to my own merits and a bit of luck. Much like anyone else, irrespective of sex. Just because you rely on your looks and dubious charm, don’t assume we’re all tarred with the same brush.’

‘From what you said, your boss took a bit of a shine to you. I suppose your high-flown morals didn’t let you take advantage of the fact?’ he responded drily.

‘Oliver merely gave me an opportunity to prove myself,’ she said stiffly. The idea of Oliver being influenced by anyone or anything beyond his precious company was laughable. ‘But if his successor has the same biased outlook as you I probably will be out on my ear shortly. I would imagine he’ll be advised to do just that,’ she admitted, a frown pleating her smooth brow.

On paper her credentials were not impressive and she seriously doubted whether she’d have the opportunity to prove her worth. There were several senior executives who had resented the responsibility Oliver had given her and they’d probably already fed the nephew from the outback enough to poison her chances of staying on.

Back-stabbing was an art form in the advertising world and she’d already suffered a good deal of spiteful innuendo concerning her promotion to Oliver’s right hand. He might have been past middle age but he had been virile and active enough to give the scandalmongers fuel for their fantasies.

‘Won’t you get a fair hearing?’ Callum asked, his expression hard and assessing as he watched the expressions flitting across her face.

She shrugged. ‘The nephew is some farmer from the outback,’ she observed dismissively. ‘I doubt very much if he’ll have an opinion of his own.’ After Oliver’s dynamic, hands-on management style she doubted if anything was ever going to be the same again.

‘Still, you could hold his hand and make yourself as indispensable as you did to the uncle.’

The soft voice held a strange underlying acid note that made her eyes narrow and look beyond the languid air of casual interest. The blue eyes gazed back at her benignly, his lips drooped at one corner in a lopsided smile; it was an expression that was somehow strangely familiar. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

‘I’ve no desire to hold anyone’s hand and that goes for you too,’ she said forcefully, her mind returning to her more immediate problems. ‘I can’t possibly spend the night with you.’

‘Why not compromise? Sleep off your afternoon’s excess and you can drive us back this evening.’

His simple statement made all her worries about imminent seduction suddenly seem foolish. She cursed her overreaction. Verbal sparring of a sexual nature was probably as mundane as discussing the weather to him. That was what he did—made lonely women feel attractive. Mortified, she felt her spine stiffen defensively. He was probably more worried about getting back to town as early as possible. She was, after all, just another job, like any other lonely woman.

‘That sounds reasonable,’ she said briskly. Pride brought her chin up to an aggressive angle. ‘What will you do?’ It was deeply embarrassing to think she’d convinced herself that he was actually interested in her.

‘Sleep, if you’ve no objection,’ he drawled. ‘My body clock’s still haywire. I’ve been out of the country.’

‘You’re Australian?’ He nodded, a wing of dark hair flopping into his eye; he brushed it back impatiently and her imagination was captured again by the long, elegant shape of his hands and fingers.

She closed her eyes and shook her head; the whole procedure took seconds but it did help focus her thoughts. The southern hemisphere seemed to have played a large part in her life recently, what with Oliver’s nephew coming from there too. She could have done without either!

‘I’m sure we can come to a civilised arrangement. I’m very sorry to delay you,’ she said formally. ‘Perhaps you could arrange some coffee for me?’ About time I started acting like the cool career woman I’m meant to be, she thought.

A dark brow shot up and he gave her a slow, sardonic stare. ‘Miss Brisk Efficiency,’ he drawled, preparing to move away. ‘Perhaps, as I’ve fulfilled my contract, you should intersperse your commands with the odd please and thank-you.’

She flushed at the remonstrance and gritted her teeth resentfully. She knew she was overcompensating for her ridiculous behaviour earlier but she wasn’t about to admit it to him.

She was still staring after Callum, reflecting that he was the most appalling man she’d ever met, when Harriet appeared with a rustle of silk at her side. The bride got right down to the subject which was making her lips quiver with temper.

‘I might have known you’d try and ruin my day out of pure spite!’

The sheer inaccuracy of this statement temporarily robbed Georgina of speech. ‘Why would I want to do that?’ she said eventually, her tone meant to deflate what looked like a volatile situation. The last thing she needed right now was a scene.

‘As if you didn’t know. I suppose you don’t know Alex hasn’t taken his eyes off you.’ The cold eyes swept disparagingly over Georgina’s finery. ‘You really don’t have the figure to take that outfit.’

‘Then I expect Alex is only marvelling at my bad taste,’ Georgina responded, her temper wearing paper-thin by this point. ‘You really have no need to worry, Harriet; I have no aspirations to take your husband from you. I’m not alone, in case you hadn’t noticed.’

‘What’s wrong, Georgie—hasn’t he found out yet you’re frigid?’ The blue eyes sparkled with malice as she gave a brittle laugh. ‘Alex said it was like being in bed with a statue. I’m not worried about you,’ she sneered. ‘I just didn’t want you to make a fool of yourself.’ With a final, triumphant smile she swept away, her long skirts hissing on the floor.

Georgina was secretly amazed at how she’d managed to keep her own expression blank. Each poisonous dart had hit its target but she’d never let the other girl know. She could have told her that Alex had in fact slept with his new wife before her, but she didn’t want to stoop to the same name-calling tactics as her cousin.

The timetable of events only made her own humiliation worse. It was ironic that when, after resisting Alex’s attempts to make their relationship more intimate, she had finally felt she was ready he had already been unfaithful to her with Harriet. I gave my all and it obviously compared unfavourably with what he already had on offer, she thought with bitter self-mockery.

‘You look pale. Are you all right?’ Callum asked, returning with a cup of coffee.

‘Sorry, did you say something?’ she responded vaguely. It was hard to put the bitter recollections aside and concentrate on the present.