A Question Of Marriage

It was almost a boyish little face beneath the glorious hair but redeemed by a pair of thickly lashed, sparkling green eyes that were little short of sensational. At barely five feet two, her figure was neat, compact and very slim.

She started to smile at herself in the long mirror as she kicked the skirt aside and raised her hands above her head—it was a beautiful outfit and she always felt wonderful in it. As if she could dance the flamenco all night but, not only that, even without her mantilla, she always felt as if the clothes and the dance were a sensuous celebration of her femininity.

She lowered her arms abruptly—perhaps those were not the right vibes to be giving off at Professor Luke Kirwan’s house-warming? Perhaps she should dress to be as inconspicuous as possible rather than trying to look the opposite to a cat burglar? She frowned, then shrugged as the doorbell rang—it was too late to change now.

‘Wow!’ Neil Baker looked suitably impressed. ‘You look absolutely stunning, Aurora.’

‘Thanks.’ She got into his car and stowed her fringed shoulder bag at her feet. It was a little bulkier than normal because it contained a green rubbish bag and a length of strong fishing line as well as her lipstick, comb and a hanky. She smiled at Neil as he started the engine for the short drive to her old home. ‘Tell me a bit about this friend of yours?’

‘He’s really brilliant, but he’s a good bloke for all that. There was a rumour that he and a girl called Leonie Murdoch were about to get hitched—maybe this is a surprise engagement party too,’ Neil theorized, ‘because I can’t see why he needs a house otherwise. There’s a hell of a lot of old money in the family, family homes and a sheep station out west—here we are!’

Aurora opened her mouth as she stared at her old family home lit up most attractively tonight, and it was on the tip of her tongue to tell Neil that she was no stranger to this house and why, just in case she met someone she knew, but the moment seemed to pass without her being able to get it out. Then she saw how many people were streaming into this house-warming party, and it didn’t seem to matter—she would only be one insignificant guest in a big crowd.

But once she was inside, she did take the precaution of asking Neil to point Luke Kirwan out to her because she had every intention of avoiding their host as much as was possible. Only Miss Hillier, fortyish, upright, groomed within an inch of life and looking every bit the martinet she sounded, had been at the door to greet guests.

‘Uh…’ Neil looked around the throng as glasses of champagne were pressed upon them—a catering firm had obviously been hired ‘…oh, there he is! Over by the piano. I think I’ll wait until things settle down rather than fight through the crowd to introduce you, if that’s OK with you?’ he added, but rather distractedly as he scanned the throng intently.

‘Fine!’ Aurora said, more enthusiastically than was called for, as she gazed through the crowd at the man beside the piano. Actually there were two, but one of them wore thick glasses, had thinning fair hair, was short and wore an Argyle tie with a mustard corduroy shirt beneath a baggy tweed jacket. He also had a pipe in his hand.

No one could possibly look more ‘donnish’, she decided and smiled inwardly. So that was Professor Luke Kirwan. No wonder he had to employ a dragon lady to run things for him because he literally exuded the kind of fuddy-duddy ineffectualness one associated with an absent-minded professor.

Which was not how you could describe the man standing next to him, she mused as she felt herself relaxing beneath the vastly less than threatening presence of the man she’d grappled with at the top of the stairs on that never-to-be-forgotten night.

No, another kettle of fish altogether, the second man beside the piano. In fact, downright arresting might be a good way to put it, she decided.

Tall with brushed-back dark hair, he had a wide brow, smooth skin, high cheekbones and slight hollows beneath those good bones as his face tapered to a hard mouth and a jaw-line that indicated this was not a man to trifle with. He also had dark, brooding eyes and he was leaning negligently against the baby grand looking cool, slightly bored and capable of a rather damning kind of arrogance if he chose.

From what she could see, he wore indigo designer jeans, a midnight-blue shirt beneath a faultlessly tailored navy jacket and a shot-silk amethyst tie. He also had a glass of something in his hands which he twirled now and then before putting it to his lips, draining it and setting it down decisively. As he straightened and his dark gaze roamed around the crowded room briefly, she saw that he was even taller than she’d suspected with wide shoulders.

Well, well, Aurora found herself thinking as that indifferent gaze failed to be impressed by anything it saw and he turned away—what have we here? A hawk amongst the sparrows? A real man amongst us? I wonder what he does for a living? Could he be a corsair in disguise, a better-looking, more dangerous James Bond than any of them, a modern-day Mr Darcy?

This time an outward smile twisted her lips because it was just that typical flight of fantasy that made it so difficult for her to allow anyone to read her diaries…

Over the next two hours, the party got noisier and merrier. She also got separated from Neil, who still hadn’t got around to introducing her to Luke Kirwan for the simple reason that as soon as he and his ex-girlfriend laid eyes on each other, they were drawn together like a pin to a magnet and determined, it appeared, to have things out with each other despite being in the middle of a party.

‘Look,’ Neil said awkwardly to Aurora as his ex-girlfriend glowered at her over her shoulder, ‘I’m sorry about this but—’

‘Forget about me, Neil.’ Aurora chuckled. ‘If looks could kill I should be six feet under by now, which tells me she’s still very interested in you, so go for it! I can take care of myself.’

Neil looked both grateful and exasperated at the same time, but, five minutes later, neither of them were to be sighted.

Aurora shrugged, still amused but also aware that she was a free agent now, which simplified things considerably. She could put her plan—of wandering upstairs in search of a powder room but nipping into her old bedroom to get her diaries—into action, and she could leave the party whenever it suited her without anyone being the wiser.

Before she got to implement any of it, though, she’d wandered outside onto the terrace to drink in the view she knew so well and loved—the Manly Boat Harbour by night with its millions of dollars’ worth of yachts and all kinds of small crafts tied up to the jetties—when a disco struck up on the terrace and couples drifted out to dance.

And she was actually thinking that this was a livelier kind of party than one would expect of an absent-minded professor when a deep voice behind her drawled, ‘May I have this dance, señorita?’

For some reason the hairs on the nape of her neck stood up as she turned slowly, then she knew why—it was the man who’d been standing beside the professor at the piano.

She took an unexpected breath to be on the receiving end of that dark, worldly gaze, but said lightly, ‘Oh, it’s you.’

He raised an eyebrow. ‘You were expecting me?’

‘Not at all, señor.’ She smiled faintly. ‘I got the rather strong impression not much about this party was of any interest to you.’

A glint of something like mockery entered his dark eyes. ‘When did you get that impression?’

She shook out her hair and opted for honesty against confusion at being caught in having ‘sized him up’, so to speak. ‘When you were leaning against the piano looking bored,’ she said with a glimmer of mischief curving her lips.

‘That must have been before I caught sight of you,’ he countered, then frowned slightly. ‘Are you—unaccompanied?’

‘I am now, although I didn’t start out that way.’ She looked wry. ‘My escort met his ex-girlfriend and they’ve disappeared. I’m not sure if they’re making up or tearing each other to bits, but something intensely dramatic was going on between them so I decided to withdraw rather than get my eyes scratched out.’

‘Then he wasn’t the love of your life?’

‘No way. I was only filling in because they’d split up!’

‘I think he needs his head read,’ the man remarked thoughtfully. ‘Do you dance, señorita? It would be a pity not to do that gorgeous outfit justice.’ His gaze roamed up and down her figure.

‘That’s what I always think when I’m wearing it,’ Aurora replied simply, although conscious of a tremor running through her, sparked by that heavy-lidded dark gaze on her body. And she knew instinctively that her sensuous pleasure in herself, brought on by this outfit, had communicated itself to this stranger—in other words it had been a mistake to wear it. But how was she to have known she would bump into the one man who would sense that, where others mightn’t?

She also caught herself thinking that this stranger was dynamite, and she should possibly exercise due caution or she might find herself willingly led down the garden path…

That was nonsense, she immediately corrected the thought, another flight of sheer fantasy! All the same, it wouldn’t go astray to take care.

She said, whimsically, ‘I won’t treat you to a full flamenco, though.’

‘Could you?’

‘I took lessons in Spain a few months ago. They called me the pocket señorita.’

He studied her upturned face until she moved restlessly beneath the way his gaze took in her eyes, then rested squarely on her mouth before he said pensively, ‘Why do I get the feeling you could be a pocket dynamo all round, Miss…?’

But Aurora, who found her heart beating abnormally and her senses all at sixes and sevens beneath not only the way this man was looking at her but everything about him, clutched a straw of sanity. ‘I’d rather remain anonymous at the moment,’ she said with a delicious look of fun in her eyes. ‘If you don’t tread on my toes or have sweaty palms I might reconsider, but I’m not promising anything.’

He didn’t reply, only inclined his head, took her in his arms and swung her into the beat of the music. Then he stopped and frowned down at her again, but only for a moment before he rather absently steered her through the dancers.

As for Aurora, she also found herself dancing mechanically for several reasons. A determination not to be overly impressed by this man on such short notice, but also because of a prickling sense of déjà vu. Why, though? she wondered. She was quite sure she’d never met him before—he was not the kind of man you forgot—so it had to be because she was back on the terrace of her old home, only—that didn’t seem to fit.

‘Have I offended some other, unnamed principle of yours, Miss Anonymous? Body odour or bad breath?’ he drawled, breaking her out of her frowning reverie.

Her eyes widened. ‘Uh…no, sorry, nothing like that at all! You smell quite nice in a manly way.’ She inhaled delicately. ‘I’m not partial to overpowering aftershave or cologne on men.’

‘Neither am I,’ he said abruptly. ‘You, on the other hand, use a particularly delicate, floral perfume.’

‘Thank you! It is rather nice, isn’t it? I have it specially made up for me by a friend who is into that kind of thing.’

‘So it’s—uniquely yours?’ There was a rather intent little gleam in his eyes as he asked the question.

‘Yes. Do you have a problem with that?’ she asked curiously.

‘No. Why should I?’

‘I don’t know. You just looked a bit—’ she shrugged ‘—censorious about my perfume.’

He smiled faintly. ‘I think it all goes towards making you rather special.’ He held her away and looked down at her consideringly before raising his eyes to hers. ‘Do you have anyone in your life—when you’re not helping hapless men friends out?’

Aurora, once more clasped in his arms, began to dance again. ‘I don’t think we know each other well enough to go into that. Unless you’d like to set the ball rolling by telling me about your love life?’ She raised an eyebrow delicately at him.

‘In point of fact I happen to be—unattached at the moment,’ he responded gravely.

‘And on the prowl,’ Aurora suggested with an undercurrent of irony.

‘What makes you think that?’

‘Could be that my antennae are picking up those vibes about you,’ she replied ingenuously. ‘In fact, I warned myself to be on guard against being led down the garden path not long after we started to dance.’

He laughed, and there was something curiously breathtaking about it despite Aurora’s wish to be unimpressed by him. Because it revealed a vitality that made you want to laugh too, and made you want to get to know this man, who could be so damningly bored at times then respond so fascinatingly to something you’d said—so that you felt absolutely fascinated yourself.

‘I have yet to resort to leading a girl down the garden path,’ he denied, ‘although the opposite may not be true.’

Aurora blinked and wrinkled her brow. ‘You have a problem with girls leading you down the garden path?’

‘Occasionally.’

They danced in silence for a while as Aurora digested this. She wasn’t sure if he was serious, although it was not hard to imagine him cutting a swathe through the female population. She said, eventually, ‘How old are you?’

He looked briefly taken aback. ‘Thirty-seven, why?’

She smiled wisely. ‘Then it’s about time you got yourself a wife, I would think, not only to keep you on the straight and narrow but to discourage women from making fools of themselves over you.’

‘Are you suggesting yourself for the position?’ he came back smoothly and with a mocking little smile playing on his lips.

‘Not at all,’ Aurora replied airily. ‘I plan to have a lot more fun and adventure before I embark on marriage, domesticity and maternity.’

‘And do you think these things work to plan?’ he queried, rather dryly, she thought.

‘For me they do—so far, anyway!’

‘How nice,’ he commented, and said no more for a time.

But it was not long before Aurora realised, as they danced, that it was far easier said than done to remain impervious to this man. He danced well, holding her lightly and certainly not imposing any unwelcome familiarities on her. In fact he was being a very correct partner—but that could be a mockery, she found herself thinking darkly.

There was certainly a quizzical gleam in his eyes from time to time as he so carefully observed the proprieties. Almost as if he knew exactly, damn him, how wonderful he was to dance with even so correctly. How easily his well-knit body moved to the rhythm—how impossible it was not to feel rather stunningly aware of him even held so lightly in his arms.

‘You were thinking?’ he murmured, his dark eyes resting wickedly on her flushed face, after he’d twirled her expertly so that her skirt belled out beautifully, and brought her back safely into his arms.

‘That’s for me to know and you to ponder upon,’ she replied, and was annoyed to hear herself sounding defensive.

‘Then I’ll tell you what I was thinking, Miss Anonymous. That we dance so well together, there are certain other—activities,’ he said, barely audibly, ‘we should be able to lend ourselves to excellently.’

Aurora took a breath and felt her cheeks redden, but she was unable to prevent herself from replying in kind as anger also coursed through her veins. ‘Really?’ she said gently. ‘I should warn you that I don’t take my clothes off on first encounters.’

He took the opportunity to look right through her clothes, then raised a lazy eyebrow at her. ‘A pity, but it might create a riot here and now, wouldn’t you agree?’

‘Perhaps I should rephrase,’ Aurora started to say.

He laughed softly. ‘Perhaps. That is cutting to the chase rather rapidly.’

‘You started this,’ she reminded him, trying valiantly to sound cool and unflustered, although she was kicking herself mentally.

‘I may have,’ he agreed, ‘but I was thinking along the lines of extending the pleasure we take in dancing with each other…’ he paused and looked down at her significantly until she had to look away with a mixture of embarrassment and self-directed ire ‘…to another, quite lovely level that wouldn’t, however, require us to undress.’

Aurora missed her step and marvelled bitterly at the ease with which he redirected her to the rhythm. And it was impossible not to silently contemplate another ‘lovely level’ with this man, right there as she was, in his arms, with their bodies touching when the music brought them together.

It should be impossible, she mused. She was not an impressionable girl, she was not particularly naïve, but she had the distinct feeling that this man had somehow got past her defences with his mixture of intriguing looks, his arrogantly bored air and his exquisitely polite handling of her that, at the same time, had activated all sorts of reactions in her. Nor did his approach—guaranteed, one would have thought, to prove she was being ‘toyed’ with—stop her from wondering what it would be like to be somewhere private with him.

What would happen? she even found herself wondering. Would she allow herself to be kissed—the next level he appeared to have in mind? Would she be able to resist if he was as good at it as he was to dance with?

She stopped dancing abruptly and looked at him lethally. ‘All right, you’ve had your bit of fun. I think we should part company now.’

‘Why? Didn’t you tell me you were into “fun” for a good while yet?’ His gaze rested pointedly on the curve of her breasts beneath her blouse, then flicked up to her eyes with a mixture of derision and irony.

Aurora compressed her lips and took hold. Enough of this, she told herself. She’d come here for one reason tonight and it certainly wasn’t to get waylaid by a man, however gorgeous. Make that downright dangerous, she reflected with an inward little shiver. And as the music changed it presented her with the perfect escape.

‘Fun—oh, yes! Let’s see if you can really dance,’ she teased, and whirled herself out of his arms as the rhythm changed and she started to do the twist expertly along with the rest of the dancers.

When it came to an end, everyone was hot and laughing and fanning themselves, but her partner took her hand and said, ‘Well? Do I qualify to get your name now?’

‘Tell you what,’ she suggested, ‘I really need to powder my nose. If you could find me a long, cool drink in the meantime, who knows?’ And she regained her hand and melted away into the crowd. A quick peep over her shoulder once she was inside told her that another woman had claimed him.

All the better, she thought as she found her bag, unobtrusively scanned the staircase and, seeing it deserted, slipped upstairs. No one knew better than she that there was a downstairs powder room for just these occasions, but surely a guest in a supposedly strange house could be forgiven for going upstairs?

And, in the proverbial twinkling of an eye, she’d let herself into her old bedroom. The room was in darkness but she waited for a few minutes, then moved forward cautiously, feeling for the bed and finding a bedside table. She had her hand on what felt like a lamp when the door opened and the overhead light went on. She froze, then swung round to see the man she’d danced with anonymously standing in the doorway.

‘So,’ he said with soft but unmistakable menace, closing the door behind him without turning, ‘I was right.’

‘I…I…’ Aurora stammered ‘…I…was looking for a bathroom. I couldn’t seem to find the light, that’s all.’

He smiled grimly. ‘Again? I’m only surprised you didn’t bring your torch with you, Little Miss Spain, who didn’t want to tell me her name.’

Aurora blinked and licked her lips. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’ She backed away as he moved towards her, and sat down unexpectedly on the bed. ‘I don’t know what you’re doing here either. Please leave, and I’ll find the bathroom on my own.’

‘Give me one good reason for not telling me your name,’ he countered.

She swallowed and thought frantically, then decided that the closer she could stick to the truth, the better. She tossed her hair with more spirit than she actually felt. ‘I don’t believe in being bowled over by men on first encounters.’

‘As in allowing yourself to be attracted to them even when it’s already happened?’ he suggested, with a wealth of satire in his dark gaze. ‘Or wearing provocative outfits,’ he added meaningfully.

Damn, Aurora thought, that hadn’t been such a good idea after all; and could think of nothing to say, so she merely shrugged.

‘But tonight was our second encounter, wasn’t it?’ he drawled then. ‘Aren’t you forgetting the way we…bumped into each other at the top of the stairs the last time you invaded my home?’

Aurora’s mouth fell open and her eyes were suddenly huge. ‘Your home! Who…who are you?’ she said in a strangled kind of croak.

‘Luke Kirwan,’ he replied, looking altogether taller, tougher and much more dangerous than she’d imagined earlier. ‘And you’re not getting out of here until you tell me what you’re so determined to steal from me, señorita.’

CHAPTER TWO

‘YOU can’t be!’ Aurora gasped, absolutely thunderstruck.

He studied her narrowly. ‘Believe me, I am. And this is my house, in case you’ve devised a ploy to confuse things somehow or other.’

‘But…but…who’s the other one, then?’ she stammered.

‘Other what?’

‘The man you were standing with next to the piano—the man who looks just like a prof—’ She broke off and bit her lip.

Luke Kirwan frowned and she saw him concentrate for a moment, then look fleetingly amused. ‘Jack Barnard?’ he suggested. ‘He’s my solicitor, but what has that got to do with any of this, señorita?’ he enquired coldly.

Aurora swallowed painfully and closed her eyes as she grappled not only with the folly of judging people on their appearances, but also having that prickling sense of déjà vu explained to her in this manner. She had been in Luke Kirwan’s arms before—not for long before she’d started to pummel and struggle with him, but long enough, obviously, for it to have imprinted itself on her subconscious.

But, it suddenly occurred to her and she clasped her hands together tightly, if that was all he had to go on, a similar sense of déjà vu, then he didn’t have a leg to stand on…

‘I think I know what’s going through your head, my pretty,’ he drawled as her lashes flew up. ‘How do I know it was you at the top of the stairs the last time you tried to rob me? I’ll tell you. Same height, same petite figure, same…’ he paused and looked wry ‘…athleticism but, above all, same unique—as you told me yourself—perfume.’ His dark eyes glinted sardonically.

Aurora’s lips parted and her eyes widened. Then she closed them again and barely stopped herself from saying caustically that, for a man groggy with some kind of virus, he’d taken in an awful lot about her and no one would buy it anyway!

But he spoke again, and this time there was a grim warning underlying his words that caused her to tremble inwardly. ‘Of course, finding you creeping around my bedroom, when there’s a clear sign downstairs directing people to a downstairs bathroom, adds a lot more weight to my evidence, don’t you agree?’

Aurora looked around properly for the first time. It had never occurred to her that the new owner would not use the master bedroom, but that was exactly what Luke Kirwan appeared to have done. Her old bedroom was now definitely, although luxuriously, furnished for a man.

‘I preferred the view from this room,’ he said, as if reading her thoughts.

Damn, she thought again, and forcibly prevented herself from wiping her face.

‘Well, Mr Kirwan,’ she said after a moment’s thought, ‘I am sorry for inadvertently invading your bedroom but you’re mistaken. I didn’t see the sign downstairs so it couldn’t have been so very clear. As for all the rest of it, whatever it is, I…’ she tilted her chin and gazed at him imperiously ‘…I’m happy to forget about it if you would be so kind as to direct me to a bathroom. I’ll even leave your party then, since you cherish these amazing suspicions about me. In fact, nothing would induce me to stay,’ she finished proudly.