Mistress Of The Groom

by Susan Napier

‘What are you—?’ She halted as he rose, his cynical expression eclipsed by a smooth smile of greeting as he held out his hand to the stocky middle-aged man with unnaturally dark hair who had come to a halt by their table.

  ‘Hello, Dan, glad you could make it.’

  ‘How could I have bypassed such a tempting offer?’ the older man chuckled in an Australian drawl, enthusiastically pumping the outstretched hand while his spaniel-brown eyes slid sideways to Jane’s startled face. ‘Hello there, little lady.’

  Before she could react to the patronising tone Ryan intervened suavely. “Little” is a definite misnomer, as I’m sure you’ll soon discover for yourself. Jane, I’d like you to meet Dan Miller. Dan owns a construction company in Queensland. He’s over here to sign some contracts with Spectrum. Dan, this is Jane.’

  The omission of her surname seemed vaguely insulting, but Dan Miller didn’t seem to notice anything lacking in the introduction. ‘Pleased to meet you, honey.’

  Jane set her teeth in a smile as she found both her hands taken and squeezed. Inside her left glove Jane could feel the unknitted bones grinding against each other, and a familiar red-hot throb began to radiate through her wrist when she finally managed to extricate herself.

  She barely heard the words the two men exchanged as Dan Miller eased his weight into the chair on her left. Her attention had been so focused on Ryan that she hadn’t noticed the extra table-setting. Now she realised that he had never intended for them to dine alone.

  ‘I thought this was going to be a private meeting,’ she murmured in an undertone as Dan Miller turned to discuss his drink order with the waiter.

  ‘Is that what I said?’ he murmured back, eyes glinting with mockery.

  ‘No, but that was the obvious conclusion,’ she admitted stiffly.

  His dark head dipped and she automatically leaned closer to hear his words. ‘I try never to be obvious—it makes one predictable. And when one is predictable one is vulnerable...don’t you agree?’

  Was he implying that she was too easily predictable? Jane frowned, nibbling at her glossy lower lip. Her father had always accused her of being the opposite...too prone to ‘womanly whims’ to make logical business decisions.

  ‘You look tense,’ he continued in that same, velvety deep voice. ‘Why don’t you stop worrying and enjoy your meal?’ he invited softly. ‘One of the reasons I brought you and Dan here is because the hotel chef has a justifiably magnificent reputation, so let’s not risk spoiling our appetites by conducting business on an empty stomach, hmm?’

  His cobalt eyes were hypnotically persuasive. ‘Relax and be sociable...Dan’s an extremely valuable contact and he’s only in town for the night; I’m merely asking you to help me make his evening a pleasant one. I promise you’ll be amply rewarded for your efforts in keeping him entertained...’

  His smooth switch in approach was bewildering. Jane had seen Ryan Blair in a number of moods but she had never before been a victim of his charm. Even knowing that it was being ruthlessly wielded in order to get his own way didn’t lessen the impact.

  When he had been engaged to Ava his manner towards Jane had been noticeably reserved. She had rarely seen him relaxed and he had never laughed in her presence. That must be why his sudden warm smile now made her stomach dip. His whole face shifted, the cynical lines of experience curving, softening and erasing the hint of threat in the hypnotic gaze which burned with a fierce intensity that beckoned her to fall into their fathomless blue depths. It was like looking at a different man, a stranger whom under other circumstances she might have...

  Heat flushed through Jane’s veins as she guiltily realised how far her mind had wandered. Steel doors slammed shut on the forbidden thoughts and she jerked back in her seat, horrified to realise how close her face had drifted to his during their whispered conversation.

  What had he been saying? Something about her being sociable to his other guest. Was he suggesting that she act as his hostess for the evening? The idea was so bizarre that she shivered.

  ‘Are you cold?’ He laid a finger against her bare upper arm, and again the brief physical contact had a mind-clouding effect. Jane’s mouth went dry; as she looked down she saw the fine hairs rise on her skin, all the way down to her wrist. Fear. It had to be fear creating this smothering, debilitating awareness of his physical strength, his power.

  It was Dan Miller who answered, with the hearty boom that seemed to be his natural mode of expression.

  ‘Cold? I know just the way to warm you up. How about tripping the light fantastic with me? That dance-floor is looking awfully lonesome with nobody on it!’

  He grabbed Jane’s left wrist and pulled her to her feet, the jolting reminder of her injury helping to startle the automatic protest out of her mouth.

  ‘Really, I don’t think—’

  ‘Oh, go on, Jane. I don’t mind being abandoned to my own devices, and you know how much you enjoy dancing,’ Ryan interposed lazily as she floundered for a tactful form of excuse. ‘If I get bored over here by myself I can always come over and cut in,’ he added to her dismay, and Dan laughed.

  ‘No chance, mate!’ he said, tugging Jane in his wake. ‘It’s your own fault for not evening up the numbers. Find your own dancing partner; I’ve staked my claim on this one!’

  Glancing back over her shoulder, Jane saw Ryan was wearing a complacent smile of satisfaction, his half-closed eyes glittering as he watched them thread their way through the tables to the small, fan-shaped polished wooden dance-floor.

  Although he was a competent enough dancer, light on his feet in spite of his stocky build, Jane found that Dan’s ebullience made even a sedate waltz a challenge as he constantly sought to out-perform his own ability. On the turns he added extra steps, flourishes and dips that forced her off balance, forcing her to maintain a tight grip with her left hand that made her sore fingers feel as if they were trapped in a wringer.

  Perspiration filmed her body as she mindlessly followed Dan’s eccentric moves, fighting to block out the increasing pain by concentrating all her attention on his sprightly conversation. She discovered that he was staying at the hotel, he was in his early fifties and acrimoniously divorced. He chuckled over the fact that Jane was a full head taller than he was, and joked that he always felt safe in the arms of a well-built woman.

  If he hadn’t been hurting her she might have been amused by his heavy-handed gallantries, but as it was she merely pinned a vacuous smile to her face and endured, relieved when the set ended after the second dance and her cramped fingers could relax.

  Ryan made no attempt to disguise his interest in her body as they returned to the table, his big frame lounging in his chair, his eyes studying her over the top of his glass as she walked towards him, rising slowly from her legs to the sway of her hips, to the shimmering fabric tautly encasing her generous breasts. He had got over his initial surprise at her attire, it seemed, and was now intent on a more intimate inventory.

  Angry adrenalin coursed through her veins as Jane realised she was being mentally stripped by a connoisseur. She wasn’t going to let him undermine her confidence in herself as a woman as well as her ability to run a company. Shoulders back, her hair flaring around them, she flaunted her last few steps with a defiance that made his eyes narrow and his chin lift sharply, the way it had when she had clipped it with her fist. As it had then, a hot wildness trembled in the air between them. Then he smiled, and Jane’s skin tightened at the benign pleasantness that prowled across the primitive features.

  Ryan Blair benign? Mild and gentle? She didn’t think so!

  As they sat down the waiter came to take their orders and Jane, who had arrived with the intention of taking full advantage of a free meal, found herself scanning the menu with a total lack of appetite. She had a feeling that if she tried to put anything deliciously rich or spicy into her tense stomach it wouldn’t stay there long. In the end she chose a salad starter, with grilled fish as her main course.

  ‘No need to stint
yourself on my behalf, Jane,’ Ryan said drily, in a tone that implied she was trying to impress him with the economy of her choice. ‘I can afford to indulge your taste for luxury—you’re not going to spend the rest of the night washing dishes in the kitchen.’

  ‘I should say not! We have better things to do, don’t we, honey?’ Dan gave her an incomprehensible wink of complicity. ‘Not dieting, are you, Jane? No need to with a sexy figure like yours.’

  His crude flattery didn’t soothe away the sting of Ryan’s words. ‘No, just selective,’ she said, directing a blue glare at her tormentor that made him smile sardonically.

  Her right shoulder kicked up and she half turned so that her hair swung forward, obscuring her face from his line of vision, attempting to ignore his taunting politeness by pretending a fascination she didn’t feel for Dan’s brash tales of his own numerous exploits.

  To her surprise Ryan made no attempt to interrupt, allowing Dan to dominate the conversation and Jane to get away with her studied rudeness. Unfortunately she paid a painful price, for Dan liked to touch as he talked and whenever her left hand was idle he would cover it with his own, playing with her fingers, squeezing to emphasise the punchlines of his jokes.

  Twice more he rousted her onto the dance-floor. After the second occasion Jane excused herself and, staring at her brittle face in the powder room mirror, knew that it was time to admit defeat—she wasn’t going to be able to get through the evening without some chemical assistance. Her hand was throbbing unbearably, and the two glasses of wine she had hoped would have an anaesthetising effect had made her head begin to pound.

  She was not going to give in now, dammit! Ryan had offered a reward and she was going to hang in there until she could demand her due: a moratorium on his revenge.

  She dug into her drawstring bag for the painkiller the clinic doctor had prescribed and dry-swallowed the small, innocuous-looking capsule. After a moment’s pause she took another, reasoning that a double dose would be twice as fast and effective and last twice as long. She wasn’t intending to drive or operate machinery, and who knew when this interminable evening would end? She lingered on as long as she dared in the fashionable marble cavern, reapplying her warpaint and brushing her hair, mentally girding herself for a fresh round of bruising social courtesies.

  The pills provided a euphoric buzz rather than the deadening numbness that Jane had expected, and, without the pain clouding her perceptions, she suddenly became aware of the thinly veiled malice with which Ryan was watching her try to fend off Dan’s increasing over-familiarity. It struck her forcibly that he had deliberately needled her before Dan’s unexpected arrival, guessing that her knee-jerk reaction would be an attempt to crunch Ryan’s ego by cold-shouldering him in favour of the brash Australian.

  She tried a polite yawn and a tentative comment on the lateness of the hour.

  Ryan shot back his cuff to expose the stark Roman numerals on his watch and observed blandly, ‘Mmm, all good girls are certainly tucked away in their cosy little beds by now...’

  ‘Are you implying I’m not one of them?’ Jane challenged, her blue eyes turbulent with repressed aggression.

  Dan chuckled, his thigh drifting suggestively against hers under the table. ‘Are you kidding? You wouldn’t be here if Ry didn’t think you were very, very good. He told me you were class, honey, real class—and he was right!’ As he groped for her hand she hurriedly wrapped it around her water-glass, and he was forced to settle for patting her knee with a moist palm.

  ‘Oh, really, what else did he tell you about me?’ Jane swiftly jerked her leg away as his touch threatened to wander, a slimy suspicion slithering around in the murky depths of her imagination.

  ‘Well, honey, if you really want to know...why don’t we go up to your room and discuss it over a nice nightcap?’ Dan’s slightly bloodshot brown eyes crinkled in a friendly leer that gave Jane goose-bumps. She knew what sort of nightcap he had in mind and it wasn’t the alcoholic kind! Before she could summon the words to adequately voice her outrage he suddenly spotted an acquaintance at a distant table and jumped to his feet.

  ‘Hey, Tom!’ He gestured expansively with his brandy-glass, his voice booming across the elegant room. ‘Fancy seeing you here. How are you, old mate?’ He dropped his voice and clapped Jane on her slender shoulder, his pudgy fingers curving possessively over her bare skin.

  ‘Gotta have a little chat to Tom—be back in a tick, honey. Why don’t you settle up in the meantime, Ry? Then Jane and I can toddle off and do our own thing. Thanks for fixing it up—I’d ask you to join us for our nightcap but you know what they say...three’s company and all that!’

  As soon as he was out of earshot Jane leaned forward, her eyes aflame under furious black brows as she fired her suspicions point-blank at her target.

  ‘What exactly is it that you’re supposed to have “fixed up” for him?’ she demanded savagely. ‘What makes him think I would go anywhere with him? And how did he get the impression that I’m staying here?’

  Ryan slid a flat hand towards her over the heavy white tablecloth. He lifted it to reveal a plastic key-card embossed with the Lakepoint logo. ‘Perhaps because you are. In room 703, to be precise.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ Jane whispered, staring at the key as if it were a grenade primed to explode in her face.

  ‘Well, since he thinks you’re so classy you can hardly take him back to your sleazy flea-pit,’ he said contemptuously. ‘And in view of his divorce proceedings he can’t risk taking you to his room. Anyway, I thought you’d appreciate being able to conduct business on your own piece of turf, albeit a temporary one. This way you don’t have to check in or out, and when your “discussion” with Dan is concluded to his satisfaction you can simply discreetly disappear.’

  The key blurred as a mist of red descended across her vision, a thick, suffocating blanket of rage and soul-shattering disappointment.

  ‘So this is your so-called business proposition?’ she choked, almost shaking with the fury of her emotions. ‘You want me to sleep with Dan as a favour to you, to sweeten some deal you have going with him? And what do I get out of it?’ she spat sarcastically. ‘Your gratitude and goodwill? Your agreement to stop hounding me?’

  ‘Oh, I had a far more professional arrangement in mind,’ he interrupted silkily, stroking the scar on his lip. ‘I did promise you a generous reward for your cooperation, didn’t I, Jane? And I always keep my promises...’

  He reached into the pocket of his jacket and withdrew a folded piece of paper with his fingertips. Holding her eyes with his, he once again slid his hand towards her with a taunting slowness. This time, when he removed it, a cheque lay on the starched tablecloth between them. A bank cheque, Jane noticed in a single, sweeping glance. Her spine stiffened.

  ‘Money?’ Her voice dripped with disdain as she snatched it up to flaunt her scorn at his transparent attempt to humiliate her. ‘You expect me to prostitute myself for the sake of—’ Her eyes fell upon the amount and her icy tone cracked in disbelief at the number of zeros. ‘F-for ten thousand dollars?’

  His cobalt gaze glowed with an unholy light as he greedily drank in the disintegration of her haughty mask, his dark, slashing features acquiring the recklessness of a devil incarnate as he purred seductively, ‘Tempting, isn’t it, Jane? Just think—you could earn more in one night than you ever did in a month...that’s if being a high-priced whore doesn’t go against your precious Sherwood principles!’

  CHAPTER FIVE

  JANE wanted to launch herself across the table and scratch his eyes out. She wanted to kick and bite and scream bitter invective, that would condemn him to everyone within hearing as a vile and despicable monster.

  The only thing that stopped her was the certainty that that was how he expected her to react. His stillness gave him away; it was that particular straining stillness of a predator gathering himself for the kill.

  She could feel him willing her to lose control. He wanted her to th
row a screaming, hysterical fit, to create another humiliating public scene that would set the seal on her already soiled reputation.

  ‘What’s the matter, Jane?’ he goaded softly. ‘Isn’t it enough?’

  They both knew it was too much—far too much. Jane would have been able to shrug off the obvious insult of a few dollars with a disdainful laugh, but this kind of serious money was enough to give anyone pause, let alone a woman who was drowning in debt. All she had to do was sacrifice her pride, her self-respect...

  Never!

  And he knew it! He knew that she would fling his degrading suggestion back in his teeth!

  A dangerous cocktail of alcohol and drugs spiked with anger swirled stormily through Jane’s veins. Colour streaked along her cheekbones, adding a fiery animation to her features as she lifted her chin and stabbed him with a poison-tipped glare.

  ‘You think I’d fall for a con like this? What’s to stop you cancelling the cheque tomorrow—if you haven’t already?’

  She might have known he would provide no such easy escape from temptation. ‘As you can see, it’s a bank cheque, not one of my own...it’s as good as cash in your hand.’

  ‘A great deal of cash for a single transaction.’ She was proud of the fact that her voice didn’t falter.

  ‘Don’t you consider yourself worth it?’ he asked silkily.

  ‘Every cent,’ she said, folding the cheque and meticulously creasing the edge before folding it again.

  ‘Consider it in the light of a retainer.’ His deep voice was taut with anticipation as his hooded eyes feasted on the jerky movements of her gloved fingers, waiting for her to contemptuously tear the folded square into tiny pieces. ‘Naturally I’ll expect to command your exclusive services. I have numerous overseas clients who like to be entertained in style while they’re in town, men who prefer a more intelligent, sophisticated companion than is usually supplied by the local escort agencies...’

  Jane’s fingers tightened involuntarily on the cheque and she saw the infinitesimal muscular shift in Ryan’s body as he braced himself for an explosion.