The Jilted Bridegroom

by Carole Mortimer

  There was no way she could return to the Forbes villa after that.

  She turned from staring sightlessly over the valley with its scattering of twinkling lights from the villas hidden among the many trees, looking at Griff in the darkness. ‘I can’t go back there,’ she stated flatly.

  He returned her gaze steadily, as if he had been waiting until she felt able to talk. ‘No,’ he acknowledged gruffly.

  She suddenly broke down in the darkness, burying her face in her hands. ‘What am I going to do?’ she cried.

  Griff didn’t hesitate. ‘You’re going to come back to Virginia’s villa and stay the night with me.’

  CHAPTER SIX

  SARAH became very still, her hands falling slowly down from in front of her face as she looked at Griff with pained eyes. ‘Just because Clarissa claimed I broke a man’s marriage up doesn’t mean that I—’

  ‘Don’t, Sarah,’ Griff warned harshly. ‘The offer was—although perhaps I didn’t make myself completely clear—for you to stay the night at Virginia’s villa with me, but certainly not in the same bedroom.’

  She swallowed hard, knowing from Griff’s expression that he was angry about the assumption she had made. ‘I’m sorry.’ She drew in a ragged breath. ‘It’s no excuse, but I was just so upset—’

  ‘Of course it’s not an excuse,’ Griff dismissed impatiently. ‘It’s a damned good reason. How the hell you stuck it out with that rabid family as long as you did is beyond me!’

  She gave a faint, humourless smile. ‘I thought I was doing them a good turn.’

  He raised his brows scathingly. ‘One they obviously didn’t appreciate.’

  She blinked back the sudden tears. ‘I can’t believe that all the time they were thinking that of me.’ She shook her head. ‘Not that it isn’t true, but—’ She broke off as Griff’s hand covered both of hers as she moved them restlessly in her lap, looking across at him uncertainly.

  He gave a rueful shrug. ‘As I tried to explain to you yesterday— No, don’t, Sarah.’ His hand tightened on hers as she would have pulled away at this reminder of the kiss they had shared. ‘Things aren’t always what they seem,’ he repeated firmly. ‘Or what people say they are.’

  As Simon’s marriage hadn’t been the sham he had claimed it was!

  ‘No,’ she agreed heavily.

  Griff looked at her closely, seeing the emotional exhaustion on her face, releasing her hands to briskly restart the car. ‘What we are going to do now is go back to the villa, have a cup of hot chocolate for you—no, not the “Morgan coffee”,’ he added self-derisively as he drove the car back on the road. ‘The idea is to help you get to sleep, not keep you awake! I’ll be having a glass of whisky myself. And then we’re both going to get an early night.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘Sleep, Sarah,’ he insisted firmly. ‘It’s the best thing for you right now.’

  She did feel shattered, but she wasn’t sure she would be able to sleep. Everything seemed to have exploded in her face yet again, and she wasn’t sure how she was going to get away from it this time.

  Griff glanced at her. ‘Don’t worry,’ he instructed briskly. ‘Worrying never solved anything.’

  Neither did sitting back and doing nothing, she wanted to tell him. But she was too exhausted even to argue with him, quietly withdrawn on the short drive back, sitting in the lounge when he told her to while he went into the kitchen to get their drinks. She even drank the hot chocolate automatically, barely tasting it, wondering if she was going to go on paying for the nightmare of her mistake, that of loving the wrong man, for the rest of her life.

  Griff took one look at her face once she had finished her drink and firmly announced, ‘Bed!’

  He showed her into the second spare room. Well, he didn’t so much show her as steer her in the right direction, her movements like an automaton still, although she knew the bedroom from her previous visits here.

  ‘I’ll go and get you one of Virginia’s nightgowns to sleep in,’ Griff told her gently. ‘Although,’ he added with a grimace, ‘her night attire, believe it or not, tends to run towards the exotic.’

  Thinking of the meticulously turned-out Virginia Majors, no matter what the occasion, she decided that Griff’s rueful attitude towards his sister’s night attire was understandable. Somehow she couldn’t see the other woman in exotic underwear either. But then her judgement of people wasn’t too good at the moment…

  She was still sitting on the side of the pink floral-covered duvet when Griff returned from his sister’s room, her eyes widening at the silky black nightgown he had draped over one arm, standing up slowly.

  He made a face as he saw her expression. ‘Virginia doesn’t believe pale colours suit her blonde colouring,’ he explained with a shrug, putting the silk garment down on the bed to thrust his hands into his trouser pockets.

  The other woman probably knew best what suited her, and Sarah was certainly in no position to question her taste. ‘It doesn’t matter,’ she dismissed. ‘I had better get to bed,’ she sighed, touching the gown despondently.

  Griff straightened, taking his hands out of his pockets to take a step towards her.

  Sarah flinched.

  She couldn’t help it; this man had shown her nothing but kindness, and yet she had flinched none the less.

  He came to an abrupt halt, his expression softening as he looked down at her bent head. ‘I’m just going to help you take your hair down,’ he explained softly. ‘And then you can get undressed and into bed, and get some sleep.’

  She was too numb to stop him as he gently sat her down before quietly beginning to loosen her hair from its plait, running his fingers through the silken blonde tresses as he fanned them out over her shoulders.

  ‘I know this isn’t the time,’ he spoke gruffly, ‘and I’m certainly not going to take advantage of your situation, but I need you to know how very much I want to kiss you again!’

  Sarah looked up at him, startled green eyes looking straight into honey-brown.

  ‘Oh, Sarah… !’ he groaned, pulling her gently to her feet and gathering her close against his chest, enveloped by his warmth.

  She was trembling badly, clinging to him, wanting the nightmare to end. But it never seemed to…

  Gentle lips travelled the long length of her throat, nuzzling against the lobe of her ear, teeth lightly biting before his mouth continued the path along her jaw and at last found the parted, waiting softness of her lips.

  It wasn’t passion they shared but understanding, Griff giving Sarah at that moment all the comfort and assurance that she needed.

  But as their kisses deepened and lengthened desire leapt between them, Griff’s hands moving restlessly over her back and waist as he moulded her to the length of his body.

  Hot breaths mingled, Griff’s lips capturing, searching, demanding.

  Sarah met that demand, her arms up about his neck, moving sensuously against him, her body afire, her breasts aching, springing to life as a thumb moved lightly over its tip, hardening with a need that Griff was only too happy to assuage, his lips travelling the length of her throat now to close over that hardened nipple through the thin material of her dress.

  Sensations unlike any she had ever known before blazed through her body, her throat arching as her head fell back languidly, the warm caress of Griff’s tongue moving to her other straining breast, the nipple already perked temptingly for his moist caress.

  She had lost all thought, all need, other than knowing the full possession of Griff’s body as he moved so longingly against her, the warmth at her thighs becoming a physical ache as Griff moved his hardness against her, his hands on her thighs as he held her to him.

  Her eyes were dark with need as he lay her back on the bed, offering no resistance as he lowered the zip to her dress and drew the garment away from her altogether, leaving her clothed only in a pair of black lace briefs.

  Griff looked down at her with eyes the colour of gold. ‘You’re beautifu
l,’ he groaned hungrily, slowly caressing her. ‘Absolutely lovely to behold,’ he told her huskily.

  She felt beautiful with him, unashamedly beautiful in her nakedness. ‘Make love to me, Griff,’ she invited softly.

  He swallowed hard. ‘I want that so badly that I ache with it,’ he told her shakily. ‘But I don’t want to do anything tonight that you’re going to hate me for in the morning.’ His voice was ragged with emotion.

  Reality came back like a cold slap in the face, and she stared up at him, the horror in her eyes for her wanton behaviour of a few minutes ago.

  What must he think of her? Oh, God, after this he couldn’t help but believe all that Sally and Clarissa had said about her!

  She rolled over on her side, turned away from him, her face buried hotly in the pillow.

  ‘Sarah, no!’ Griff clasped the warmth of her bare shoulders between firm hands, but she wouldn’t be turned towards him.

  ‘You’ll believe them now,’ she choked. ‘Believe I’m a flirt, a home-wrecker, a—’

  ‘No!’ he protested harshly. ‘You’re a warm, vibrant woman, and I know you well enough to realise you would never set out to hurt anyone willingly. You fell in love with this man—’

  ‘I thought I loved Simon,’ she cut in raggedly, still turned away from him, realising even as she said the words that she no longer loved Simon, if she ever had.

  At first Simon had seemed so exciting to be with, an elusive consultant, and then when she had discovered he was married she had believed him when he’d said it was unhappily, had felt sorry for him when he’d told her how awful his life with Fiona was, and now… God, now she had met a man she could so easily love, and it was all so terribly wrong. The wrong time, the wrong place, everything!.

  ‘We all make mistakes, Sarah,’ Griff told her regretfully. ‘But we don’t have to go on paying for them for the rest of our lives.’

  Oh, God, she had forgotten, however briefly, that less than a week ago this man had been left standing at the altar by the woman he loved!

  ‘I— Thank you for helping me tonight.’ She drew in a deep controlling breath. ‘I think I would like to get some sleep now.’ She kept her eyes firmly closed, knowing that to open them and look into his dear face could be her undoing.

  His hands were slowly removed from her shoulders, the skin there suddenly feeling chill, and Sarah didn’t see him but she felt him move from the side of the bed, heard the click of the bedroom door as he opened it seconds later, her nerves stretched to breaking-point almost by this time.

  She could feel him watching her, before he called to her softly, ‘Night, Sarah.’

  ‘Goodnight.’ She tried to sound casual, and groaned inwardly as she was sure she only managed to sound offhand.

  ‘Nothing has changed, Sarah,’ he told her softly. ‘I still like you, respect you—and want you so badly that it’s actually a physical pain!’

  By the time she had turned to face him he had gone, the bedroom door closing softly behind him.

  The tears began to fall hotly, scalding her cheeks, and she knew she no longer cried for Simon and their lost love.

  Because she had never loved him, only thought she had, she was sure of that now.

  Griff Morgan was the man she loved!

  * * *

  She awoke to the bright south of France sun shining through her bedroom curtains; there was nothing unusual about that.

  But it was the only thing this morning that was the same as the previous twelve days.

  On those previous mornings there had been no delicious smell of freshly brewed coffee drifting through the villa to her bedroom—she’d always been the one who’d got up and made coffee for everyone else!

  And she could smell hot bread and pastries too—no one got those either normally until she had driven down to the village bakery to pick up the fresh long sticks of bread, still warm from the oven and the assorted pastries.

  And the silk she could feel against her skin wasn’t the usual cotton nightshirt she wore.

  And the person whistling noisily outside her bedroom door couldn’t be one of the Forbes family—they were all alike in one way, and that was that none of them was cheerful in the morning.

  And the Forbeses certainly didn’t have a cat that could have made itself comfortable at the bottom of her bed so that it made it difficult for her to stretch out!

  ‘Up you sit,’ Griff ordered as he let himself into the room after the briefest of knocks, pushing the cat off the bed before putting a laden tray down in front of Sarah with a flourish as she scrambled hastily up the bed into a sitting position, more out of a feeling of awkwardness than to actually do what he instructed.

  ‘Coffee—weak, in your honour,’ he added teasingly. ‘Fresh fruit juice. Orange. Freshly squeezed by my own fair hand. Bread, still warm from the oven, soft butter, marmalade, and delicious pastries,’ he triumphantly announced the contents of the tray. ‘You know,’ he sat down on the side of the bed, helping himself to one of the pastries, a lovely concoction of almonds and glacé cherries on top of the soft pastry, ‘I could quite get used to bringing you breakfast in bed.’

  Well, he wasn’t about to be given the chance; she would have to leave here. And as soon as possible. As soon as she had at least made an attempt to eat some of the breakfast he had prepared so nicely for her; she couldn’t disappoint him when he had taken so much trouble for her, couldn’t remember anyone else ever doing such a thing, not even her parents.

  ‘I shouldn’t,’ she told him drily, breaking open some of the bread, hungry in spite of herself at its deliciously tempting smell, spreading on some of the golden butter. ‘I shall be leaving as soon as I’ve booked my flight home to England.’

  All the laughter left Griff’s face at this announcement. ‘You don’t have to do that,’ he protested. ‘You could stay on here and have a holiday—’

  ‘No, I couldn’t,’ Sarah said firmly, knowing that wouldn’t be a good idea in the circumstances. And he had to know it too. After last night.

  Last night…

  She suddenly lost all taste for the bread she had buttered so enthusiastically seconds earlier. Last night she had wanted Griff to make love to her, had wanted him as badly as he had claimed to want her, could still remember the warmth of his lips on her body.

  Last night she had realised she loved this man…

  Griff’s hand covered hers as he watched the emotions flickering across her face. ‘Sarah, we have to talk—’

  ‘No!’ She pulled away from him, putting the tray firmly to one side to throw back the bedclothes and leap out of the bed.

  The thought of putting on the black dress she had worn the evening before was distasteful to her; she doubted she would ever be able to wear that particular dress again without remembering her humiliation of last night. But the only alternative seemed to be the revealing black nightgown.

  She snatched up the black dress from the bedroom chair where Griff seemed to have draped it some time after getting up from the bed and before leaving the room the night before, hurrying into the adjoining bathroom.

  Her reflection in the bathroom mirror showed her face to be pale, with dark shadows under over-big green eyes. It had taken her hours to fall asleep last night, her sleep filled with dreams when she had eventually managed to drop off.

  She dressed quickly, relieved to see Griff had gone when she returned to the bedroom, tidying the bed, laying the silk nightgown across the bottom of the bed, Jasper having wandered off, in search of food probably.

  But she would have to find Griff and thank him for his help before she left.

  She found him in the kitchen when she took the tray through, the debris from the oranges he had squeezed, the coffee he had made, and the bread he had broken up into more manageable pieces still evident in the untidiness of the room. Griff stood unconcernedly in the middle of it, his hand arrested in raising his coffee-mug to his lips, his piercing gaze fixed on Sarah.

  ‘Thank you for com
ing to my rescue last night.’ She attempted a brightness she didn’t feel, pleased when she managed to sound quite natural, although all the same she lacked conviction. ‘I’m going to collect my things now, and—’

  ‘I’m coming with you.’

  Her eyes widened at the flat determination in his voice, his eyes narrowed challengingly. ‘I can manage—’

  ‘I’m sure you can.’ He gave an acknowledging inclination of his head. ‘I’m still coming with you.’ He met her gaze steadily.

  Sarah returned that gaze impatiently, knowing that if she told him he wasn’t coming with her he was more than likely to follow her anyway. And that would look worse than if they went together in the first place!

  ‘Very well—as you insist,’ she accepted abruptly. ‘But it’s a waste of your time. I only intend collecting my things and going straight to the airport. I shall just camp out there until I can get a flight home,’ she added with more bravado than she actually felt, knowing that getting a seat on a flight to England could be difficult at this time of year.

  Although, at the moment, facing the Forbes family again was most prominent in her thoughts!

  It was just her luck that the family were at the dining table having breakfast—at least, Roger and the three children were, Sarah’s gaze moving to the kitchen doorway where a harassed-looking Clarissa now stood, her hair not in its usually perfect style, her face bare of make-up; she looked all of her forty-three years this morning.

  Sarah didn’t fool herself into thinking that Clarissa’s less than perfect turn-out this morning had anything to do with being upset by the scene with her the night before; it was more likely to be because she was having to do some of the housework herself for a change!

  ‘There are only cereals and toast for breakfast this morning,’ her disgruntled words to the family seemed to confirm this, ‘so you will have to make do with—’ Clarissa broke off the speech, having realised that none of her family was taking the slightest bit of notice of her, that they had their attention fixed on something across the room. She followed their gaze. ‘Sarah…!’ she breathed slowly.