Bundle of Brides

by Kay Thorpe

  ‘Weddings are a draw any day of the week,’ Ross returned. ‘We still have the reception to get through, so don’t start relaxing yet.’ The pause was meaningful. ‘We’ll have plenty of time for that this next couple of weeks. I cleared the decks as far as possible, so there shouldn’t be any problem.’

  Only the one he’d still to learn of, she thought. They were due to spend tonight at the apartment, flying out to Barbados in the morning. She looked forward to seeing his expression when he realised the honeymoon he’d cleared the decks for was going to be a non-event.

  It wasn’t far to the hotel. Yet another phalanx of photographers awaited their arrival. Elinor and her parents, along with the best man and bridesmaids, had already formed the welcoming line-up in readiness for the guests even now beginning to arrive. Taking her place at Ross’s side, Gina geared herself up for yet another ordeal.

  It took an age. Her hand felt crushed from all the shaking, her face stiff from keeping the smile going brightly. She’d met some of them already, but hadn’t retained any names. She felt like throwing her arms round Meryl Thornton in sheer relief.

  ‘We must get together again,’ Meryl said. ‘I’ll give you a call when you get back.’

  ‘Do,’ Gina urged.

  Her enthusiasm faded as the next in line moved into view. The beautiful, superbly dressed brunette wore a smile that left her eyes devoid of any hint of warmth.

  ‘Congratulations,’ Dione said in a silky purr, not bothering to extend a hand. She turned her attention immediately to Ross, the smile altering in character. ‘You’re a lucky man. She’s really quite lovely!’

  ‘Isn’t she?’ he agreed. ‘Glad you could make it, Dione.’

  ‘As if I could possibly miss such an occasion!’ she said with deliberated extravagance.

  She went on her way, trailing the man she was with, leaving Gina gritting her teeth. The knowledge that Ross had slept with the woman—and was more than likely sleeping with her still—was impossible to just ignore.

  ‘Bear up,’ he murmured. ‘It’s almost the end of the line.’

  From the superb ice carvings decorating each and every table, through an equally superb five-course meal to the accompaniment of music played by a top-line quartet, the reception was exquisitely presented. Both bridegroom and best man did their duty with speeches that drew laughter and applause, while Leslie produced a short but well-thought-out piece that made Gina want to cry.

  There was dancing after they finished eating, started off by the bridal pair themselves in accordance with tradition.

  ‘Another half an hour, and we’ll leave them to it,’ Ross said on the floor. He kissed her, smiling drily at the applause that greeted the gesture. ‘I think we can be said to have given it our best shot.’

  Gina made no reply. Unprepared for it—although she should have been—the kiss had disturbed her carefully nurtured objectivity. The feel of him, lean and hard against her, undermined her even further.

  ‘I notice Roxanne didn’t bother to turn up,’ she said, desperate for something to take her mind off bodily urges she couldn’t control. ‘Haven’t you even heard from her?’

  ‘Not a word.’

  He sounded indifferent, but he had to feel something, she thought. No matter what she’d done, Roxanne was his only sibling. He couldn’t just disown her altogether.

  ‘Your mother must be hurt,’ she said.

  ‘She’s been that too many times to expect much else.’

  ‘Surely if you talked to her. Really talked to her, I mean.’

  ‘Unless it’s attached to an offer of money, talking’s useless. I’d have thought you’d recognised that much for yourself.’

  The slow movement of the body so close to hers was robbing her of the ability to think clearly about anything but just that. She ached in every fibre with the need to be closer still, to be part of him again. It was going to take every ounce of will-power she had to do what she planned on doing.

  So don’t, whispered a small voice at the back of her mind.

  A man she couldn’t for the life of her remember receiving earlier tapped Ross on the shoulder. ‘Time you gave the rest of us poor slobs a chance,’ he grinned.

  Laughing, Ross relinquished her into the other arms. ‘Just don’t take any advantages,’ he warned.

  Gina pasted the smile back on her face as the newcomer swung her into motion again, aware of the watching eyes. So much for getting away!

  Others joined in, crowding the dance floor to the extent that it was impossible to do little more than sway in time to the music. Someone else claimed her, then someone else again. She did her best to keep up a light conversation with them all. It was all part and parcel of the occasion. Something she just had to bear with. Inwardly, she was still grappling with the temptation to abandon everything and just go with the flow.

  It took the glimpse through the crowd of Dione in Ross’s arms to bring the battle to an abrupt end. They looked what they were: two people on intimate terms with each other. The fury sweeping through her was all-consuming. He could at least have left the damned woman alone on this of all occasions—if only for the look of it!

  She put up a pretence of enjoying herself far too much to leave when he did come to find her some half an hour later.

  ‘Have another glass of champagne!’ she invited, fishing a bottle from the ice bucket by the table where she was sitting with the Thorntons and others. ‘The night is still young!’

  Ross eyed her quizzically. ‘How many have you had?’

  With no intention of allowing alcohol to ruin her plan of attack, she’d stuck to the bare minimum, but she wasn’t about to admit it. ‘I lost count,’ she said airily. ‘Does it matter? I’m not driving.’

  ‘We’ve a five-hour flight in the morning,’ he returned. ‘You’re going to be tired.’

  One of the men at the table said something low-toned to his neighbour, drawing a grin. Ross ignored the pair of them. ‘It’s midnight already.’

  ‘The witching hour!’ she exclaimed. ‘That surely calls for another drink! A last dance, then,’ as he shook his head. ‘Listen, they’re playing our song!’

  There was a deep-down spark in the grey eyes, though his expression remained easy. He put out a hand. ‘So they are.’

  The quartet were playing a number she didn’t even recognise. Ross drew her close, his hands hard at her waist. Her eyes were on a level with his mouth; she could feel his breath on her cheek, cool and fresh.

  ‘Game still on, then,’ he said softly.

  ‘If that’s what you want to call it,’ she rejoined. ‘Smile, darling, we’re under surveillance! You wouldn’t want to give the media the wrong impression, would you?’

  ‘The media weren’t admitted,’ he said. ‘What was it you said once about a floor show?’

  She gave a laugh. ‘Bridegroom arrested for wife-beating at wedding reception. That would definitely make the headlines!’

  His jaw tautened. ‘Cut it out!’

  ‘Sure.’ She used the word with deliberation. ‘My lips are sealed!’

  ‘Why?’ he asked after a moment.

  ‘You know why,’ she said, abandoning the act. ‘What’s the point in making out this is anything but a means to get our hands on the shares my grandfather left? I’ll live with you because I don’t want the Harlow name made a total mockery of, but I won’t sleep with you again.’

  The hands at her back had hardened still further. ‘Is that a fact?’

  ‘You can bet on it,’ she said. ‘I’ll be occupying the guest room tonight.’

  He held her a little away from him to look into her vibrant face beneath the sparkling diamond tiara Elinor had talked her into having, mouth dangerously set. ‘I wouldn’t count on it.’

  ‘Oh, I doubt if you’d resort to force!’

  ‘I don’t intend to,’ he said. ‘You’re no ice maiden, Gina. We already proved that.’

  ‘Things can change.’ There was a hard knot in her throat, another
in her chest, but she wasn’t about to go under. ‘You don’t need me to prove your virility. There’s a more than adequate supply of willing partners out there. In here too, if it comes to that. Dione Richards, for instance. The two of you looked very cosy!’

  There was derision in his eyes now. ‘Cosy is the last word I’d apply to Dione. She doesn’t have any bearing on the situation anyway. We’ve some sorting out to do.’

  It had to come eventually, Gina acknowledged. They may as well get it over with.

  ‘I’m ready when you are,’ she said.

  She drew her first deep breath as he led her off the floor again, aware of the weakness in her limbs. She’d amazed herself these last few minutes; she’d certainly given Ross a shock. He wasn’t going to get through her guard, whatever pressure he brought to bear. It was time he realised that she had a will just as strong as his when it came to the test.

  It was only when taking her leave of her parents that she realised she wouldn’t be seeing them again. They were flying home the day after tomorrow—no, actually tomorrow, considering it was already gone twelve.

  ‘I’ll call you from Barbados,’ she promised, wondering what she would tell them. She could always fall back on describing the scenery and the weather, she supposed. They’d hardly expect any more intimate details.

  Elinor gave both her and Ross warm hugs. ‘See you when you get back,’ she said.

  Gina avoided looking at her mother, knowing how she must feel hearing that. She loved both the Saxtons very much, and always would, but there was no denying that things could never be quite the same.

  Michael was waiting to drive the three of them back to the house. Ross had ordered a cab. It was coming up to two by the time they reached the Beverly Harlow.

  He’d said nothing in the cab, and said nothing on the way up to the apartment. Waiting while he unlocked the outer door, Gina was totally unprepared for his sudden move to sweep her up and carry her over the threshold.

  ‘That’s one tradition out of the way,’ he said tautly. ‘One more to go!’

  She struggled as he bore her through to the main bedroom, but it made no impression on him. He dropped her on the Empire-sized bed, keeping her down with a hand on her shoulder. Her dress fastened down the front with tiny pearl buttons to waist-level. Gina caught at his hand as he began to unfasten them.

  ‘Don’t you damn well dare!’ she said through her teeth. ‘I told you it’s no go!’

  He gave a short laugh. ‘We’ll see, shall we?’

  She twisted her head away as he came down over her, but she couldn’t escape his mouth. If the kiss had been forceful she could have held on to the fury driving her, but his lips were almost gentle, brushing, teasing, playing with the soft fullness, his tongue a silky caress.

  She could do nothing to curb the heat and hunger spreading through her. Her lips parted, allowing him access, her body abandoning one kind of tension to gain another. Her hands lifted to the dark head, fingers plunging into the crisp thickness of his hair, the past days wiped from mind by the emotional storm consuming her.

  The buttons popped with a faint pinging sound as he ran a hand down behind the bodice of the dress. Gina didn’t care about the ruination, didn’t care about anything but making up for the deprivation she’d suffered. Ross reached behind her to lower the long zip, easing the whole dress down over her hips to drop it in a silken pile on the floor.

  She was wearing little beneath, her stockings garter-topped, her panties and bra mere wisps of white lace. He left the stockings on, coming down again to put his lips to each peaking, tingling nipple in turn, dragging moans from her aching throat at the exquisite sensation.

  He moved on slowly, tantalising her quivering flesh with tiny kisses, nuzzling her waist, her hipbone, lingering for eternity on the fluttering skin just above the triangle of blonde hair before sliding lower still to penetrate the very centre of her being. Back arched, lips parted on a silent scream, Gina was lost to everything but that flickering flame, shudder after shudder running through her as she climaxed.

  She made a soft sound of protest when he lifted himself away from her, but it was only to rid himself of his own clothing. She needed no further stimulus, and he offered none, each powerful thrust of his loins a token of his mastery, carrying her through to an overwhelming finale.

  It took him a moment or two to recover enough strength to lift himself away from her. Gina lay motionless as he got up. He’d made his point. She was incapable of saying no to him and meaning it.

  She watched him as he headed for the bathroom, even now feeling a stirring inside at the mere sight of the leanly muscled back and firm masculine behind. Where they went from here she wasn’t sure. She’d goaded him into what had just happened; she might also have called time on whatever feelings he did have for her.

  She’d pulled herself together enough to have got up and donned a negligee by the time Ross emerged from the bathroom. He was wearing a towelling robe similar to the one in the guest suite. From the look of his hair, he’d stuck his head under the shower. To cool off, she imagined.

  ‘We need to talk,’ he said before she could open her mouth. Not that she had any idea what to say anyway. ‘Properly, I mean. No more point-scoring.’ His regard was dispassionate. ‘Agreed?’

  ‘Agreed,’ she said low-toned.

  ‘We both of us knew what we were getting into when this started,’ he continued. ‘The physical attraction was a bonus. It can be still if you stop trying to make me out to be the bad guy.’

  ‘You mean accept you the way you are, or do the other thing,’ she retorted.

  ‘There you go again!’ Exasperation drew a line between his brows. ‘I mean we should take advantage of the situation and get the most out of the relationship. We’re good together. I’d say we just proved that.’

  ‘What we just proved,’ she said wryly, ‘is that I’m weak in the won’t department.’

  A smile touched his lips. ‘You think I’d have forced you if you hadn’t given in?’

  She shook her head. ‘You wouldn’t demean yourself.’

  ‘Glad you realise it.’ He waited a moment in anticipation of some further comment from her. ‘So?’

  ‘So, I think you’re right, and we should make the best of things,’ she said, smothering her deeper emotions.

  ‘Apology accepted.’ He laughed as her eyes sparked. ‘I guess I asked for it to a great extent.’

  There was a pause. Once again Ross was the one to break it. ‘How do you feel about cementing the pact in time-honoured fashion?’

  ‘I thought we just did,’ she said.

  ‘Call it a preliminary bout. Main event still to come.’

  With her insides already melting, Gina let go of the last remnants of self-preservation, rewarded by the flare in his eyes as she let the negligee fall to the ground. At least he still wanted her.

  CHAPTER NINE

  BARBADOS was a dream island, the villa a delight. Open-plan for the most part, with acres of coolly tiled floor, the decor was pure Caribbean. Gina loved it on sight.

  The maid service she would happily have done without, though Ross appeared to have no objection. They spent the first couple of days on the private beach, swimming when they felt like it, sunbathing with proper caution and generally chilling out. Lovemaking was left for the moonlit, star-spangled nights.

  They toured the island in one of the open-sided, soft-topped Jeeps, passing through fields of swaying sugar cane where workers paused in their toil to wave a cheerful greeting. Gina much enjoyed the Barbadian dialect, although finding it difficult sometimes to derive a meaning. The phrase ‘I ain’t no bride’, overheard spoken by one man to another, left her totally baffled until Ross explained it simply meant the speaker was no model of good behaviour, and had nothing whatsoever to do with the marital state.

  The first ripple in the sea came when they had lunch at one of the island’s top hotels one day. Gina had noted the way a woman seated alone at a table on the
far side of the restaurant kept eyeing them, but didn’t expect to return from a visit to the bathroom to find the attractive redhead now seated at their table in conversation with Ross.

  ‘Hi there!’ she greeted, still laughing over some remark he’d apparently just made. ‘I’m Samantha Barton. Ross tells me you’re on your honeymoon. I wouldn’t have come over if I’d known that.’

  ‘Sam lives here,’ Ross explained. ‘She has a design studio on Broad Street. I didn’t see her when we came in.’

  ‘I moved here to escape the LA rat race a couple of years ago,’ Samantha tagged on. ‘Never looked back. What do you think of the island?’

  ‘It’s beautiful,’ Gina acknowledged, putting on a sociable front. ‘I could live here myself.’

  ‘Especially in the Harlow villa! I had the use of it for a few weeks until I got myself sorted out.’

  ‘You’re a friend of the family, then?’ Gina hazarded.

  ‘More an acquaintance. I’ve done some design work at Buena Vista. Ross arranged for me to use the villa.’ She turned her attention back his way, her smile a little too intimate for Gina’s comfort. ‘I was very grateful.’

  Gina made a mental note to check whether Ross had visited the island himself a couple of years ago, pulling herself up sharply on the realisation that she was falling into the same old trap. Judging from the woman’s looks and air of familiarity, it was on the cards that there had been some interaction between the two of them in the past, but even if the marriage had been real, his life prior to their own meeting would have been his affair, not hers.

  Samantha was here at the hotel to advise on the restaurant redecoration, it appeared. She had a house up the west coast near Speightstown.

  ‘I’m having a bit of a soirée tonight,’ she said casually on preparing to leave at last. ‘I’d love the two of you to come.’

  ‘We’ll be there,’ Ross promised before Gina could think up an adequate reason why not.

  ‘Great! Eight onwards, then.’ She gave Gina a look that held just a hint of triumph. ‘Look forward to seeing you.’