Her main reason for feeling so angry wasn’t that Griffin might have been delayed, or even that he hadn’t informed her; it was the fact she was inwardly sure he was doing this on purpose. He knew damned well she was supposed to be going out at seven-thirty this evening, and, even if he appeared in the next fifteen minutes, with the density of the traffic at this time of the evening she was going to be hard pushed to make it home by seven-thirty, let alone be ready to go out anywhere!
She had actually tried to contact Sam today, to cancel their date for this evening, but it was just her luck that it was his day off, and there had been no reply when she’d tried to telephone him at his apartment. She had finally called the hospital back and left a message there for him, cancelling their date tonight, just on the off-chance that he might check in there on a patient, or for some other reason during the day. But, as he hadn’t telephoned her back, she didn’t hold out much hope of his having received that message. And so, despite all her efforts, Sam was likely to turn up at the house for her this evening at seven-thirty.
And Griffin had four minutes left before she left him stranded here!
But, as she might have guessed, with barely two minutes to go of the allotted fifteen minutes, the glass doors at the front of the building swung open, and Griffin aided by a security man this time, made his way down the steps towards her car.
He grinned unabashedly at Dora as he reached the car, that beguiling, boyish smile—a smile that probably usually made most people forgive him most things. Today was his unlucky day!
Once again Dora made no effort to get out of the car, reaching over and thrusting the passenger door open for him. ‘Get in,’ she instructed through gritted teeth.
‘Good evening to you too, Izzy,’ he drawled mockingly as he bent down to thrust the crutches into the back of the car before levering himself inside.
Still Dora didn’t move. She was too angry with him to feel the least sympathy for his obviously painful efforts. He had managed perfectly well all day—probably with the help of more gushing and beautiful women like the one this morning!—and as far as Dora was concerned he could damn well manage now!
She waited barely long enough for the car door to close behind him before accelerating away. It was almost a quarter to seven now. Griffin’s struggle to get into the car had taken him almost another ten minutes, and there was no way, unless she broke every speed limit there was, that she was going to be home before Sam arrived at seven-thirty. And it was all Griffin’s fault.
‘Had a good day?’
Dora spared him only a brief, scathing glance. As it happened, she had had a good day, having miraculously found that the carpenter who had put in the railing could also spare her the time to finish the rest of the work. And probably before Monday too.
Consequently, when she’d driven to the studio to pick Griffin up, her mood had been happy and buoyant, but Griffin, with what she considered his deliberate tardiness, had wiped out those good feelings in one easy sweep!
She certainly wasn’t in the mood to listen to the detailed account Griffin was now giving her of his own day. As if she cared! He had delayed her on purpose this evening because of her date with Sam, of that she was certain. He certainly hadn’t been late on any of the other evenings when he had joined her at the shop! No, he had done this on purpose. Dora was sure of that.
‘Is there something wrong?’ Griffin prompted several minutes later, having received no response from her whatsoever to what had turned out to be his monologue.
Wrong!
He knew damn well what was wrong! And if he thought she was unaware of his deliberate plan to sabotage her date, he was mistaken.
‘Izzy?’ he prompted again softly. ‘You aren’t being very friendly this evening,’ he complained.
Dora wondered if it were possible to actually have steam coming out of one’s ears! It certainly felt like it to her at the moment, so heated was her anger.
‘Friendly!’ she repeated forcefully, her hands tightly gripping the steering wheel as she drove. ‘Almost two hours I sat outside that damned studio waiting for you to appear—and you expect me to feel friendly?’ she snapped furiously. ‘You really are the most aggravating, annoying—’
‘I love it when you say nice things to me,’ he murmured with a satisfied smile.
A smile Dora would have dearly liked to wipe off his too-handsome features! ‘—selfish, uncaring—’
‘Ah, now, I draw the line at uncaring,’ he cut in with a frown. ‘I wasn’t late on purpose, you know, Izzy.’
‘Weren’t you?’ she scorned disbelievingly. ‘Somehow I find that very hard to believe, Griffin. You know damned well I’m supposed to be going out at seven-thirty.’
‘You’ll still make that,’ he assured her stiffly. ‘And it was as difficult working today, with this damned ankle and the crutches, as you predicted it would be. We had a meeting at the end of the day—the reason I’m late, incidentally—and decided to forget the rest of the week and try again on Monday, when hopefully I’ll be a lot more mobile.’
Dora really wasn’t interested in what they had decided! She was tired, agitated and hungry; not a very good combination at the best of times, let alone when Griffin was the one responsible for most of it!
‘How nice.’ She didn’t even attempt to disguise her sarcasm.
Griffin chuckled softly at her side. ‘Good to see you’re getting your sense of humour back!’ he mused dryly.
She gave him a sharp glance. ‘I—’ She broke off as she saw the laughter gleaming in his eyes. ‘This isn’t funny, Griffin.’ She tried to sound stern, to hang on to the anger she had been feeling so strongly towards him.
But it was impossible with Griffin wearing that repentant little-boy look, the laughter gleaming in the deep green of his eyes.
‘Okay, Griffin.’ She relaxed back in her car seat, her shoulders aching from the tension she had been under until this moment. ‘Let’s call a truce,’ she suggested wearily.
‘Do we have to? You look beautiful when you’re angry,’ he drawled challengingly.
‘Not again, Griffin!’ Dora shook her head ruefully. ‘It didn’t work for you this morning—and it isn’t going to work this time, either!’
‘I know.’ He gave a puzzled frowned. ‘I can’t understand what it is I’m doing wrong; that sort of line always works in the movies.’
The problem was that even when Griffin did it wrong a part of her was crying out, Yes, keep saying wonderful things like that to me! The part of her that was in love with him…
‘People in films work to a script, Griffin,’ she told him heavily. ‘It’s supposed to work. Because they aren’t real people.’ Reality, as she knew only too well, was that she and Griffin just weren’t suited to each other, that they wanted different things from life, from a relationship.
Griffin just wanted fun and laughter from a relationship, with sex thrown in. She still wanted that fun and laughter—and there was no doubting that although Griffin could make her angrier than anyone else ever had, too—but she didn’t just want sex, wonderful as she was sure that would be with Griffin. She wanted love and commitment, not to be someone Griffin left behind when he moved on to other things, other women.
‘Pity,’ he murmured, putting his head back against the seat, and he gave every impression of having fallen asleep.
Although that impression was quickly dispersed twenty-five minutes later, when they reached Dora’s home.
With expected bad timing, after Griffin’s unforgivable delay in leaving the studio, Sam’s car was already parked outside the house. So he hadn’t received her message…
Dora stopped the car behind Sam’s, glancing towards the house to see Sam standing on the front doorstep, a puzzled frown on his face as he realised the house was empty. Even as Dora looked across at him he glanced at his watch, as if checking that he wasn’t the one in error about the timing of his arrival.
But before Dora could even switch off the car engine, le
t alone open the car door, Griffin, for all his earlier struggle to get in the car, seemed to be having no trouble getting out of it now. In fact he was out on the pavement, crutches in his hands and making his way towards the house—and Sam!—before Dora had even made a move to get out.
‘You must be Sam.’ Dora heard him greet the other man as she scrambled out of the car just as Griffin reached Sam’s side. ‘Izzy—Dora—has told me all about you.’
Sam’s already puzzled expression clearly showed that Dora hadn’t so much as mentioned Griffin to him!
Which, of course, she hadn’t! She hadn’t even seen Griffin for almost a year when he’d turned up at the shop six weeks ago, and, although Sam had telephoned her a couple of times since her father died, she hadn’t actually spent any time with him for over two months.
‘Sorry we’re a little late back,’ Griffin told the other man lightly. ‘Izzy has very kindly been acting as my chauffeur for the day.’
‘She’s a kind person,’ Sam answered him warily, obviously still at a loss to know what was going on.
‘Isn’t she, though?’ Griffin turned to give her an intimate smile. ‘What man could possibly resist her?’ he added possessively. ‘I know I certainly couldn’t. And luckily she reciprocates the feeling. Which is the reason we became engaged to each other yesterday evening,’ he added with satisfaction.
Dora stared at him. Not only had he delayed her so that she couldn’t possibly be ready to go out with Sam, but now he had told the other man about their bogus engagement.
What on earth did he think he was doing?
CHAPTER NINE
‘GET out,’ Dora bit out coldly, trembling with the deep anger burning within her.
‘But—’
‘I said get out, Griffin.’ Her voice shook with anger now, her hands clenched tightly at her sides.
She had just experienced the most embarrassing five minutes of her life! She’d watched helplessly as Sam had verbally floundered at being told Dora was engaged to the other man, had inwardly cringed herself as he’d looked at her accusingly for not being the one to tell him. Her halting comment about leaving messages for him at the hospital had carried little weight in the forgiveness line as far as Sam was concerned.
Sam had given them his stilted congratulations, accompanied by a sickly grin, before taking his leave of them, walking back to his own car with stiff dignity. He’d even managed to give them an awkward wave before driving away, his features schooled into an expression of calm resolve.
Dora had known at that moment that, fiancé or not, she had seen the last of Sam, that he would never forgive her for the humiliation he had just suffered.
And it was all Griffin’s fault. Arrogant, uncaring Griffin.
‘He wasn’t your type anyway, Izzy,’ he announced now, with that same arrogance, as the two of them sat facing each other across the width of her kitchen like the adversaries they now were—in Dora’s mind, at least. She no longer cared what Griffin thought—about Sam or anyone else.
And he had the nerve to accuse her father and Charles of trying to run her life for her; they were mere amateurs compared to this man!
‘I have no intention of discussing anything to do with Sam with you,’ she told Griffin icily. ‘You’ve crossed over a line as far as I’m concerned. In fact, you’ve trampled all over it! And now I want you to leave.’ Before she began to scream.
Because that was exactly what she felt like doing. Sam might not have been the most exciting man she had ever met, but he had been her choice of friend; how would Griffin like it if she strode into his life and started vetoing his friends? She knew the answer to that all too well!
‘But—’
‘No buts, Griffin,’ she told him firmly. ‘You humiliated Sam and you embarrassed me. And you did both of those things with a lie—a lie you used earlier to get your mother off your back.’ Her expression hardened as she talked of the other woman. ‘While I can understand the reason you felt the need to do that, it is nevertheless still a lie. And it certainly wasn’t for repeating to any third parties,’ she bit out caustically.
‘How am I supposed to manage on my own?’ Griffin chided ruefully. ‘After all, I did sustain this injury while—’
‘—helping me,’ Dora completed with a weary sigh. ‘That excuse has already worn thin, Griffin. You managed perfectly well on your own a short time ago when it came to getting out of the car and talking to Sam. In fact—’ she grimaced ‘—you were quicker than me!’ Otherwise this situation would never have arisen. She was sure she could have explained things to Sam, if she had been allowed to do so, in a way that would have saved any of them embarrassment. As it was… ‘No, Griffin,’ she told him firmly, ‘that excuse isn’t going to work with me any more. I just want you to go.’
‘You—’
‘To be quite honest, Griffin,’ she added hardly, ‘I found your behaviour this evening as domineering as you claim my father’s and Charles’s was,’ she told him bluntly.
A nerve pulse in his cheek, but Dora couldn’t be sure what was the cause of it—anger, or a direct hit with her blunt statement. Whichever, Griffin no longer looked mildly amused by her outrage. In fact, all the laughter had left his face and eyes. Perhaps she had finally got through to him…?
‘I said those things for a reason, Izzy—’
‘I know—you didn’t like my father and you don’t believe I ever loved Charles,’ she scorned.
‘You really liked him, didn’t you?’ Griffin rasped harshly.
Really liked who? Ah… ‘Of course I liked Sam,’ she answered, as she realised that was who he was talking about. ‘I would hardly have gone out with him in the first place if I didn’t like him.’
Griffin frowned darkly. ‘I could always give him a call—’
‘Please don’t bother,’ Dora dismissed coldly. ‘I’m quite capable of doing my own explaining, thank you.’ Although she knew that with Sam she never would; their friendship was over.
Her engagement to Griffin might be entirely fictional, but her love for him wasn’t. What would be the point of explaining anything to Sam when that was the way things were—and were likely to remain!
‘After you’ve left,’ she added pointedly.
Griffin sighed. ‘You won’t even try to understand, will you?’
‘What is there to understand, Griffin?’ she challenged scornfully.
‘The reason I behaved as I did with Sam, for one thing,’ he said pointedly.
‘Oh, I already know the reason you did that!’ Mischief! Griffin was full of it. And he didn’t seem to care who he hurt with it, either.
‘I doubt it.’ He shook his head. ‘You don’t have much of an opinion of me, do you, Izzy?’
That ridiculous name again.
Once Griffin had finally gone from her life, she would never hear it again…
She dampened down the pain in her chest at such a realisation. ‘Have you ever given me any reason to think otherwise?’
She answered his question with one of her own. Because inside she was screaming. Of course she had an opinion of him; she loved him!
She loved that wicked sense of humour that often caused such mischief. She loved his kindness—the kindness that had allowed Charlotte to have her trouble-free wedding. She loved the way he looked—those same looks that millions of other women drooled over on the television when they watched his travel programmes.
Of course she had an opinion of him; but it was one she intended keeping to herself.
Always.
For to do anything else would be to open herself up to so much pain and humiliation. Besides, she was still furious with him.
‘Never mind—it’s taking far too long for you to think of an answer!’ he drawled self-derisively, shaking his head as he straightened. ‘The problem with you, Izzy—’
‘I don’t think I’m the one with the problem,’ she cut in dryly.
‘—is that from the very first you wouldn’t allow Dora to give me a
chance,’ he finished determinedly.
A chance to do what? Besides, Dora and Izzy were one and the same person. ‘You—’
‘Izzy looked at me, and she liked what she saw—oh, yes, you did, Izzy,’ he insisted firmly, as she would have protested. ‘Do you think I don’t know when a woman finds me attractive? Give me credit for having some sensitivity,’ he said dryly. ‘Izzy Baxter liked me—’
‘So did Fiona Madison,’ she scorned, embarrassed colour in her cheeks. How could she have made herself, and her feelings, so obvious two years ago? It was humiliating!
Griffin gave her a reproving smile. ‘That’s the prudish Dora talking again now, so I’ll forget you made that implication about Fiona and myself. She happens to be a family friend, and I had always promised her, and the husband she adored, that once Dungelly Court was up and running I would do a review of the place for her. If you don’t believe me,’ he drawled at Dora’s sceptical expression, ‘ask my mother; she happens to be Fiona’s godmother!’
Dora had no intention of asking Margaret Sinclair anything; in fact, she never intended speaking to the other woman again. And she was sure Griffin was perfectly well aware of that. Besides, as far as she was aware, outrageous as Griffin could be, he had never lied to her…
She raised her chin challengingly. ‘I really don’t see what any of this has to do with me.’
‘No, you wouldn’t, would you—Dora?’ he added pointedly. ‘But when we were together at Dungelly Court—’
‘We had dinner together,’ she cut in heatedly. ‘Don’t make it sound more than it was!’
‘Whatever.’ He shrugged impatiently. ‘That evening you allowed Izzy to talk for you—’
‘There is no Izzy!’ she burst out forcefully. ‘How many times do I have to tell you that?’ Her eyes blazed deeply grey.
He shook his head, giving a smile tinged with sadness. ‘Oh, yes, there is an Izzy. Deny it all you like, Dora.’ He humoured her as she would have protested again. ‘But I’ll never believe otherwise. Especially not after seeing your collection of unicorns this morning.’ His eyes glowed at the memory. ‘Izzy collected them, not Dora,’ he insisted firmly.
Their Engagement is Announced Page 15