His After-Hours Mistress Read online

  ‘Remind me never to come to you for sympathy,’ Roarke muttered as he glanced around. ‘Is this it?’ he asked, pointing to her single case.

  Ginny nodded. ‘It’s all I shall need for a few days,’ she confirmed, though she was well aware she had packed too much.

  Roarke hefted her case and laughed. ‘My mother never travels with less than thirty pieces of luggage.’

  Ginny couldn’t imagine having the clothes to fill them. ‘Think about the excess she must have to pay!’ she exclaimed in amazement.

  ‘Think of the pandemonium that arises every time she thinks a piece is missing!’ Roarke countered sardonically, and Ginny winced.

  ‘Ouch. Does that happen often?’

  ‘Nearly every time. You see, life has to be a drama for her. She’s the prima donna to end all prima donnas. It wouldn’t surprise me if my sister is marrying this man just to get away from our mother,’ he declared outrageously.

  ‘Oh, but surely she loves him,’ Ginny protested, uneasy at the idea that any woman would do such a thing.

  Roarke shrugged indifferently. ‘She probably thinks she does.’

  ‘Thinks she does?’ Ginny challenged as she pulled the door closed behind her and checked it was securely shut.

  Roarke started down the stairs. ‘Caroline is very much like our mother. She can convince herself of anything. If she wants to get away from Mother’s influence, she could well have convinced herself she loves this guy.’ He took time out to shoot her a mocking glance over his shoulder. ‘You might have gathered that relationships aren’t our thing. Caro’s a brilliant flautist, but emotionally she’s caught in the fallout of our parents’ broken relationships like the rest of us. I give this marriage a fifty-fifty chance at best.’

  Having reached the ground, Roarke held the door open for her. ‘You don’t expect it to last?’ Ginny asked as she walked outside.

  Taking her arm, Roarke guided her to where he had parked his car. ‘None of the others have, so the odds are against it.’

  ‘Which is why you aren’t even going to attempt a proper marriage,’ she pronounced, and Roarke grinned at her over the boot before closing it with a solid thunk.

  ‘Got it in one.’

  He helped her into the car, but there was very little time for talking as the traffic that evening was heavier than usual. In fact, they only just made it to the airport in time, and their flight had already been called. Ginny didn’t have time to catch a breath until they were in the air and the seat belt sign went out.

  ‘There’s nothing like a frantic last-minute dash to set you up for the weekend,’ Roarke drawled sardonically as he made himself comfortable in the spacious first class seats.

  ‘I look at it this way, things can only get better,’ Ginny responded lightly.

  He laughed. ‘Don’t you believe it. You haven’t spent any time with my family before.’

  Ginny frowned at him. ‘Nobody can be as bad as the picture you’re painting,’ she argued, though she knew full well that they could be as cold and unforgiving as an arctic winter. ‘Your grandfather is always a gentleman.’

  ‘True,’ Roarke agreed easily. ‘He’s one member of the family I’d do anything for. Unfortunately, he won’t be there. Pressure of work, he told me, but I think he just doesn’t want to run into my mother. They don’t see eye to eye on anything.’

  The affection in his voice when he spoke of his grandfather caused Ginny to look at him curiously. ‘So there’s one human being you do care about. You aren’t quite the lost cause you like to make out. Why do you hide it?’

  Roarke glanced round at her, a mocking smile back on his lips. ‘Wait till you meet the family. Then, if you’re half as smart as I think you are, you’ll understand.’

  Ginny looked away, fixing her attention on the view from the window. She wasn’t sure she wanted to meet any of his family. Then a small smile tweaked at her lips. Well, they were the Adams family, so what else could she expect?

  ‘What’s so funny?’ Roarke enquired, and Ginny, who hadn’t realised she was smiling, hastily composed her features.

  ‘Private joke,’ she murmured with a shrug, hoping to put him off asking further, which it did, but only set him off in another unexpected direction.

  After giving her a doubtful look, as if he had guessed what she was thinking, he said, ‘So what about your family? They can’t be as gruesome as mine.’

  It was an automatic response for Ginny to tense, though she had battled hard to feel nothing over the years. She tensed because the memories were as painful as they had ever been. Try as she might not to care, she knew in her heart of hearts that she always would.

  ‘I have no family,’ she told him shortly, knowing she sounded far too abrupt, which would only pique his irritating interest.

  There was a second of surprise while he assimilated this, then he frowned as he made the logical assumption. ‘I’m sorry. I had no idea your parents were dead. You must miss them.’

  Ginny had no intention of explaining anything to him, but, on the other hand, he was offering sympathy, and she couldn’t take that under false pretences either. Caught between a rock and a hard place, she felt compelled to put him straight. ‘They’re not dead,’ she corrected bluntly.

  Beside her, Roarke’s eyebrows rose, then drew together in another frown. ‘You’re saying you don’t know who they are? That would explain the lack of photographs in your flat.’

  Gritting her teeth, Ginny swivelled her head to give him a darkling look. ‘I’m not saying that at all. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d rather we changed the subject.’ She couldn’t be more pointed than that, but, as she had expected, Roarke ignored the heavy hint.

  ‘Hey, you can’t leave it there. You’ve got my mind buzzing with off-the-wall scenarios here. Besides, I told you about the skeletons in my family closet, so it’s only fair you should do the same,’ he cajoled her.

  ‘You volunteered the information,’ she was quick to point out. ‘I could have done with knowing less.’

  Roarke grinned. ‘Come on now, sweetheart. You know you found it fascinating in a sort of perverse way.’

  ‘I did not!’ she denied, though she knew that wasn’t totally true.

  ‘Did too!’ he quipped back, making them sound like two children sniping at each other. It made her want to laugh, and she hated that he could do that to her.

  She narrowed her eyes at him. ‘OK, so I didn’t find it completely uninteresting,’ she admitted, and held up her hand as he started to speak. ‘But that doesn’t mean I have to tell you anything about my family.’

  ‘So you do have one. I was beginning to think you sprang into this world fully formed,’ he mocked her, and Ginny sighed. He wasn’t going to give up unless she said something.

  There was no way she could keep the reluctance from her expression, and she wasn’t laughing when she spoke. ‘I’ll tell you one thing, but only if you promise not to ask any more questions.’

  The laughter faded from his grey eyes. ‘You make it sound like the end of the world.’

  She held his gaze. ‘Your promise, Roarke.’

  ‘OK, I promise. No more questions, no matter what you say.’

  Ginny glanced down at her hands, composing herself so that she would reveal nothing, not by a look or an expression. Her gaze was bland when she looked at him again. ‘Very well, I’ll tell you this much. I no longer exist,’ she told him quietly, and saw the myriad questions forming in his head. Yet she knew he wouldn’t let one of them pass his lips, for he had given his word and she knew that, once given, he would not go back on it.

  Roarke sat back in his seat, puffing out a frustrated breath. ‘You realise this is going to drive me mad?’

  That wasn’t her intention, for she wasn’t deliberately cruel. It had been her only defence to his probing questions. She couldn’t tell him that her family wasn’t dead to her, but that she was dead to her family. He would want to know why. She had had to shut him up and that had been the on
ly way.

  ‘Best not to think about it, then,’ she advised, picking up one of the magazines she had bought to while away the flight with.

  ‘God, you’re an aggravating woman! Why didn’t you just say nothing?’ he demanded testily, and that made her lips quirk.

  ‘I tried that, but you insisted. You only have yourself to blame. Something for you to remember in future. Curiosity can be a dangerous thing,’ she told him with a husky laugh.

  The sound of her laugh brought a rueful expression to his face. ‘You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?’

  Ginny couldn’t help but laugh again. ‘There’s a certain amusement in the situation.’

  ‘I had no idea you could be so nasty.’

  She shook her head sadly. ‘I told you. You…’

  ‘…only have myself to blame. Thank you for rubbing salt into the wound. It’s made me feel a lot better,’ Roarke muttered grumpily, but she could tell there was no real animosity in it. He had been well and truly hoist by his own petard.

  Secure in the knowledge that she had headed him off at the pass, Ginny concentrated on her magazine until her eyes began to close. Knowing sleep would make the journey pass more quickly, she settled her seat into a more comfortable position and was asleep in seconds.

  It was a hand gently shaking her that brought her awake some time later, and in that moment of slight disorientation she glanced round to get her bearings and found herself looking into Roarke’s concerned eyes no more than inches away from her own.

  ‘What—?’ she croaked, inexplicably fascinated by the depth in those grey orbs. She experienced the fanciful notion that they were bottomless. Perfect for drowning in.

  ‘You were having a bad dream.’ Roarke’s soft words cut into her errant thoughts, causing her to blink and really see him. The words sent a chill through her and she shivered. ‘I thought you’d rather I woke you up.’

  Ginny licked her lips and swallowed, suddenly aware of a warmth on her shoulder. Glancing down, she discovered Roarke’s hand still rested there from when he had shaken her to rouse her. It was this that was creating the only hot spot on her body, but it was radiating warmth. Disconcerted by the effect, she touched the button which brought her seat upright and removed his hand at the same time.

  ‘Thanks,’ she muttered awkwardly. ‘Was I making much noise?’ she added, glancing round surreptitiously to see if anyone was looking at her. Much to her relief, nobody was.

  Only Roarke was studying her with any interest. ‘Just whimpering sounds that warned me whatever was happening in that head of yours, it wasn’t pleasant. Do you often have bad dreams?’

  Glad to hear that she had stopped short of one of her more explosive nightmares, Ginny shook her head. ‘Only now and then,’ she revealed. Once she had been plagued by them. Driven to the point of exhaustion by nights of broken sleep. Time had seen them fade until now she only dreamed when she was worried or upset. It must have been Roarke’s questions about her family which had set her off this time.

  She’d been dreaming of the last time she had seen her family. Her father had been as cold and remorseless as ever. Denying her entry to the house. Saying things in that harsh voice he used to show his disapproval. Things that had cut her pride to ribbons, though she had held her head high. He had seen her off as if she had been a creature from the gutter. But that was what she was to him then. No longer his daughter, just a thing he would step over in the street.

  Roarke’s hand on her arm gave her a start. ‘Don’t,’ he ordered gently when she looked a query at him. ‘Come back. Wherever you just were, you clearly don’t want to be there.’

  His perceptiveness brought an unexpected lump to her throat, and she had to clear it. ‘Some dreams are hard to shake off,’ she confessed, and he smiled faintly, as if he knew from experience.

  ‘For some of us the past isn’t a pleasant place to be, is it?’

  That wasn’t a path she wanted to travel, and in order to fend him off Ginny eyed him ironically. ‘You have bad dreams? I would have thought you’d need a conscience for that.’

  He wagged an admonitory finger at her. ‘Now, that wasn’t nice, sweetheart. As it happens, I do have a conscience, but I doubt very much if I could convince you of the fact. You have this habit of expecting the worst of me.’

  ‘A side you delight in showing me,’ she was quick to point out, and he laughed.

  ‘Ah, well, if you expect to catch fish you have to use the right bait, otherwise they won’t rise,’ he explained, and Ginny’s eyes narrowed.

  ‘Implying that I rise to the bait, I presume?’ she charged wrathfully.

  ‘Which you do beautifully.’

  She wanted to respond to that with a furious denial, but to do so would be to rise to the lure he had just put out, and therefore confirm what he was saying. She had to satisfy herself with a baleful look and one word.

  ‘Snake.’

  Roarke chuckled. ‘Damn, but I have to admire your self-control. You are one cool customer.’

  She might look cool, but inside Ginny was seething to the point of incandescence with frustration. ‘You’re too clever by half, Roarke Adams. People like you have been known to come to a sticky end.’

  ‘There, you see, there’s something for you to look forward to. My comeuppance. Will you look on, gloating with satisfaction?’ he teased her, and she rolled her eyes.

  ‘Oh, please, gloating is so passé. I’ll probably be leading the cheering section. It will be made up of all the women you’ve toyed with over the years.’

  ‘I’m afraid it won’t be as large a group as you imagine. I’m on pretty good terms with most of my exes,’ he reminded her, and she knew that basically it was true. She might rag him over the ones who had taken it badly, but they were in the minority.

  Ginny had never been able to understand it. How could women allow themselves to be used as they were, and still like the man when he decided it was over? ‘You must be related to Svengali,’ she said now, and Roarke smiled rakishly.

  ‘Sweetheart, I don’t have to hypnotise a woman to, as you’d put it, have my wicked way with her.’

  ‘No,’ Ginny agreed with a grimace. ‘You merely smile at them, and they turn all weak at the knees.’

  ‘What turns you weak at the knees, Ginny? What’s Daniel’s secret weapon?’

  There was no way Ginny would tell him that if Daniel had a secret weapon he kept it well hidden. He didn’t turn her weak at the knees, and she wouldn’t want him to. She’d done that, and it wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. ‘That’s none of your business.’

  Roarke’s smile suggested he wasn’t taken in by her response, but at least he didn’t follow it up. No, he took a different tack. ‘So, what did dear Daniel say when you told him where you were going this weekend?’

  The nerves in Ginny’s body jolted uncomfortably. Picking up her magazine, she flipped it open. ‘He said nothing. Why should he have anything to say?’ she responded in an offhand manner designed to tell him how unimportant the situation was.

  Roarke studied her downbent head curiously. ‘You mean he saw nothing odd in you going away with me? How open-minded of him. I didn’t think he had it in him, to be frank.’

  Ginny shrugged. ‘We travel together too often for him to be upset this time,’ she offered, recalling with a tiny frown just how upset he had been.

  ‘True, but this is different…or doesn’t he know that?’ Roarke added thoughtfully, and Ginny groaned silently at his persistence. ‘You didn’t tell him, did you? Where does he think you are?’ The amusement in his voice made her wince.

  Slapping the magazine closed, she turned to stare him out. ‘This is a business trip as far as he’s concerned. When I realised how much he dislikes you, I chose not to tell him. Are you satisfied now? Can I read my magazine in peace?’

  ‘Daniel dislikes me?’ he asked, sounding even more amused. ‘The man has a hidden depth. Well, well, well.’

  Exasperated, Ginny was tempted to hit
him with her magazine. ‘It’s not uncommon for people to dislike you, Roarke, hard as that is to believe. I dislike you too.’

  ‘Ah, but does he dislike me for the same reason? You see me as a womaniser. Is that what Daniel thinks too?’ Roarke mused, then snapped his fingers as an idea struck him. ‘Of course, that’s it. He’s afraid I might turn my attention to you.’

  It was irritating that Roarke should hit the nail on the head so quickly. ‘I told him he had nothing to worry about. I’m not the least bit interested in you. I think I may even have mentioned a ten-foot bargepole. That desperate I’m not,’ she added sardonically for good measure.

  ‘Besides, you have Daniel,’ Roarke put in sagaciously.

  ‘Exactly,’ Ginny agreed, returning once more to her magazine. ‘I have Daniel, and I’m not in the market for anyone else.’ Saying which, she turned her shoulder on him and concentrated on the words on the page.

  Roarke wasn’t to know that they were little more than a jumble of letters because her thoughts were concentrated on those brief moments when a pair of roguish grey eyes had set her nerves skittering and her heart skipping. Why they had become fascinating, she couldn’t say, but she was seeing them in a way she never had before. Added to that, she could still feel where his hand had touched her. She was aware of him, too. Physically. Suddenly she could sense him, when she had sat beside him before and never felt a thing. It was as if something had been switched on inside her, and she was far from comfortable with it. She had to be losing it to find Roarke Adams even remotely attractive. That damned chemistry had picked a fine time to rear its ugly head. However, what could be switched on could also be switched off, and that was what she was going to do. All she had to do was will it. She was a sensible person, so it shouldn’t be that difficult…should it?

  CHAPTER THREE

  IT WAS evening when they landed, but as it was summer the sun hadn’t quite set and it was still warm. Someone had sent a car to collect them, and Ginny was more than a little surprised to find herself being ushered into a luxury limousine.