“Together,” Lucas put in.

“Of course together! We’ll travel home and that will be that. It’s just twenty-four hours. Midnight to midnight, then we’ll go our separate ways. We need never see each other again.”

Lucas looked thoughtful.

“There’s just one thing that puzzles me. I don’t understand why, when you’ve gone to all this trouble arranging a date and telling your parents, you’re still so insistent on keeping things strictly business. Why not make it for real? Then we could have some fun.”

“Fun?” Georgia spluttered indignantly. “And I suppose by fun you mean—”

“I mean this,” Lucas drawled softly and, leaning forward, he kissed her right on the mouth.

KATE WALKER was born in Nottinghamshire, England, but as she grew up in Yorkshire she has always felt that her roots were there. She met her husband at university and she originally worked as a children’s librarian, but after the birth of her son she returned to her old childhood love of writing. When she’s not working, she divides her time between her family, their three cats and her interests of embroidery, antiques, film and theater and, of course, reading.

Look out next month for The Groom’s Revenge by Kate Walker, #2035.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

‘AND now, ladies and gentlemen, we come to the high spot of the evening—the moment I’m sure you’ve all been waiting for!’

The woman standing on the stage at the far end of the large, luxurious dining room banged her gavel on the table in front of her in order to gain attention, even though it was obvious that she had no need to do so. Every head in the crowd before her was already turned in her direction, the buzz of conversation fading to a silence that was somehow electric with a new and expectant excitement.

‘Here we go,’ Georgia muttered to herself, sitting upright in her chair and running a hand over her sleek copper-coloured hair before adjusting the short skirt of her mint-green silk suit, infected by the tension as much as everyone else.

This was what she had come here for. This was the reason—the only reason—she had paid the exorbitant ticket price and endured an indifferent meal, a less than enjoyable cabaret.

‘Lot twenty-five in our charity auction. A very special offer indeed for the connoisseur. A must for any lady with discerning taste and a bank balance to match! I’m sure that more than one of you would be willing to spend any amount to purchase the services—’ the elegant brunette rolled her eyes dramatically ‘—of this particularman for a day. Ladies and gentlemen, our star attraction—Mr Lucas Mallory!’

Star attraction indeed, Georgia thought to herself, and from the look of him this man knew it only too well.

Others before him had ambled down the catwalk in the centre of the room with an embarrassed, almost shamefaced air, as if they couldn’t quite believe their own behaviour in appearing in a ‘slave auction’ like this. Some had attempted a more confident swagger, but had only succeeded in looking cocksure and rather silly, and others had been so painfully ill at ease that Georgia had winced inwardly in empathic embarrassment.

In contrast to such displays, Lucas Mallory strolled out into the glare of the spotlight with the easy, unruffled confidence of a man born to public favour and acclaim.

Everything about him, his firmly upright carriage, the assured lift of his chin, the measured, hunting-cat grace with which he moved, declared that he was sure of his welcome. Without a word having to be spoken he made it plain that he had never doubted for a moment what his reception would be like.

And he was right, of course. The ripple of applause that greeted his appearance swelled in volume as he strolled down the catwalk, growing to a thunderous roar when he came to a halt at the end. From his higher position, he surveyed the crowded room with leisurely nonchalance, a faint smile curving the corners of his beautifully shaped mouth and one dark eyebrow lifting in teasing challenge.

‘Oh, very cool!’ Georgia commented under her breath, her tone a blend of admiration and cynicism.

She was well aware of the fact that ‘Cool’ was reported to be Lucas Mallory’s middle name. Nothing, it was said, but nothing fazed him in any way at all. Even the appalling crash that had almost claimed his life hadn’t stirred a single shining hair on that handsome head.

‘I’m sure that I don’t have to tell you anything about Lucas Mallory.’ On the stage, the auctioneer was warming to her theme. ‘But for those of you who have been asleep for the past ten years or have just flown in from some far distant planet, let me say that the man before you was a World Champion racing driver. He won that accolade three times in succession, and might possibly have achieved a fourth win if it hadn’t been for a run of bad luck that ended in his unexpectedly early retirement.’

Mr Cool hadn’t liked that reference to his last, disastrous year in Grand Prix racing, Georgia reflected, seeing the tiny frown that creased the space between the straight, black brows. Clearly he would much rather have retired with yet another golden prize under his belt instead of being forced out of the competition by a string of problems and near disasters that made it seem as if his legendary luck had finally deserted him.

‘But since then he has not been content to rest on his laurels. Instead, he has turned his attention to business, making a second fortune restoring and selling classic cars. So you can see that the woman who makes the winning bid tonight will be a lucky lady indeed. In fact, I can only bemoan the fact that I am not allowed to take part in this particular auction!’

The look the elegant brunette turned on Lucas Mallory could only be described as idolatrous, and Georgia felt a twist of deep cynicism as she saw the man at the end of the catwalk respond with a smile of megawatt brilliance that was clearly designed to have her, and every other woman in the room, melting into a warm pool at his feet.

That smile would get him anything, or anyone, as poor Kelly knew to her cost. For a couple of seconds the memory of her friend’s distress blurred Georgia’s hazel eyes and she had to shake her head firmly, sending her smooth mane of coppery coloured hair flying round her fine-boned face as she tried to drive the image from her mind.

She needed to concentrate on the plan that had brought her here tonight. Any thought of the callous way this man had behaved towards Kelly would only distract her from her purpose.

‘But I’m sure you’re anxious to get this part of the auction under way, so would anyone like to start the bidding?’

There was no shortage of volunteers, enthusiastic hands shooting up all around the room, but Georgia kept her own carefully manicured fingers firmly in her lap.

Steady, she warned herself, you don’t want to look too eager.

That was not the impression she wanted to give at all. And besides, she could afford to wait, to let others increase the price until some of them were forced to drop out.

Lucas Mallory, too, seemed quite content to wait. He looked perfectly at ease even in the glare of the spotlight, hands pushed deep into the pockets of the perfectly tailored black trousers he wore with an equally elegant dinner jacket and immaculate white shirt.

But of course the spotlight was his natural habitat. He had hardly been out of it at any point during the past ten years. If the tabloid press hadn’t been reporting his explosive success on the race track, then it had been the equally dramatic nature of his private life that had grabbed their interest.

The latter seemed to consist of a series of high-profile romances alternating with even more public break-upsif ‘romances’ was the right word. Certainly his associations could never be described as relationships, none of them seeming to last long enough to do more than register on the public awareness before they were unceremoniously discarded and Lucas Mallory moved on to pastures new.

‘Mallory’s Moppets, we’re known as.’ Kelly’s voice, shaking with bitterness, sounded inside her head. ‘Or the Pit Stop Popsies. At least, the ones who get as far as a date are called that! There’s another, even less flattering term that’s used for the others—the ones like me. I barely had a chance to warm his sheets before he pushed me out the door. The proverbial one-night stand, that’s me!’

‘But why did you let it happen?’ Georgia hadn’t been able to hide her concern. ‘Don’t you have any more respect for yourself than that? Why didn’t you just say no?’

‘Say no!’ her friend had echoed, rolling her eyes dramatically to emphasise just what she thought of that suggestion. ‘Georgie, no one says no to Lucas Mallory, at least, no woman with red blood in her veins! He is gorgeous, the sexiest thing on two legs ever to walk this earth.’

And, in spite of feeling decidedly prejudiced against the man on the stage, Georgia had to admit that even ‘gorgeous’ was rather too restrained a term to describe someone like him. It implied the sort of conventional, almost pretty-boy looks that turned actors into movie stars. Lucas Mallory had features that were too strong, a bone-structure that was too harsh for such a glamorous appeal.

But when those strong-boned looks were teamed with hair that gleamed like polished jet and eyes that seemed, from this distance at least, to be almost equally dark, the impact this man had was like a blow to the soul. With square, powerful shoulders and a tall, leanly muscular frame that carried not even an ounce more in weight than when he had earned his living as a trained sportsman, then ‘devastating’ was probably far nearer the mark.

And he was absolutely perfect for what she wanted. He was all male, a modern day macho hero to his fingertips, and a self-made man as well. Oh, yes, her father would love Lucas Mallory.

‘Any more? Would anyone like to raise.?’

Coming back to reality with a sense of shock, Georgia realised that she had been preoccupied for far longer than she had imagined. Already the bidding had slowed, the price having reached a total at which most of the interested parties had had to drop out. It was time to make a move.

‘Going once.going twice.’

Georgia raised her hand. Her action caused a buzz of interest from the audience, who had believed the sale to be almost over.

‘And a hundred,’ she said firmly.

For a couple of minutes she had a battle on her hands. One determined woman on the other side of the room matched each increase she made, but then, reluctantly, she had to drop out, shaking her head regretfully.

‘Sold!’ The gavel came down on the table with a bang. ‘Sold to Georgia Harding—you lucky thing! Please see Emily to pay, Georgie.’

Smiling to herself in satisfaction, Georgia got to her feet just as Lucas Mallory’s dark eyes scanned the room, seeking out the person who had finally bought twenty-four hours of his time. As that alert, intent gaze rested on her for a moment some uncharacteristic imp of mischief urged her into action. Picking up her wine glass, she raised it in a mocking toast.

But the teasing gesture rebounded on her with a vengeance a moment later as the dark, sleek head inclined in sardonic acknowledgement of her salute. In the same instant, she saw the black eyes slide deliberately from the top of her shining red-gold head and down over her body to the smart Italian sandals whose slender, twoinch heels took her height to an impressive near six feet.

The coolly insolent survey was so blatantly sensual that she felt irritation prickle over her skin, a spark of anger flashing in her changeable eyes. From his behaviour, anyone would have thought that she was the slave and Lucas Mallory her lordly purchaser.

For a brief moment, gripped by blind fury, she was strongly tempted to declare that she had changed her mind. Let someone else put up with this man’s arrogant assumption that any female must be putty in his hands!

But then common sense reasserted itself. After all, he was perfect, and once she had handed over her money he would be hers for the twenty-four hours that she needed him. After that, she would be only too pleased to see the back of him.

She was at the treasurer’s table, signing her cheque with a firm, decisive hand, when some change in the atmosphere around her, an intuitive shiver of awareness over her skin, alerted her. She just had time to draw a deep, calming breath before the man who had come up behind her spoke.

‘Miss Harding?’

It was a very attractive voice, low and pleasant. There was nothing in it to disturb her, but all the same she felt the tiny hairs at the nape of her neck lift in nervous response. Slowly she turned to face him, switching on a smile that was pure politeness, with no real warmth in it at all.

‘Yes?’

Those eyes weren’t actually black, she realised, seeing them properly for the first time. Instead, they were the deepest grey she had ever seen, dark and spectacular, like the rest of him. Her mind registered his impressive height and powerful build with an almost shocking force that rocked her mental balance, driving away the stern warnings Kelly had given her when she had told her friend what she had planned.

‘I’m Lucas Mallory.’

Close up, the impact of that smile was even more lethal than it had been earlier. Then, its dazzling brilliance had been diluted by the distance between her seat and his position on the catwalk, but now there was no such safety device to weaken its power.

The hand he held out to her was lean and brown, its grip around her fingers disturbingly warm and strong.

Dear God, she was beginning to understand just how Kelly had felt, Georgia thought. Her head was swimming as she fought against the stunning sensual response that seared through her whole body. It was as if she had put her hand onto a live electric wire and been badly burned as a result.

She had to get a grip on herself! This was not at all how she had planned things would go.

‘I know exactly who you are, Mr Mallory.’

The struggle to regain control of her wayward emotions made her voice even colder than she had planned, and she had to force herself to ease her hand gently from his grasp, fighting the impulse to snatch it away in panic.

‘After all, I have just bought you.’

The dark eyes followed her gesture towards the cheque that now lay, fully signed, on the table beside a receipt for her donation. But when they swung back to her face she caught a disturbing gleam in their darkness.

‘So the deal’s been finalised—signed and sealed. I’m at your mercy. Yours to do with as you please.’

‘Oh, really, Mr Mallory! Don’t you think that’s something of an exaggeration?’

Georgia’s voice came and went embarrassingly, affected by the sudden, shockingly vivid image that slid into her mind. The thought of this powerful, intensely virile man at her mercy sent a shiver of reaction nmning down her spine.

‘Not at all. When I agreed to take part in this auction, I knew that I’d end up as someone’s “slave” at the end of it. I was well aware of the fact that once you’d paid there would be no getting out of it’

‘And would you want to get out of it? Is that what you’re trying to say?’

‘No way!’

All amusement had faded from those amazing eyes. Their dark intensity held her gaze transfixed, as if he was a powerful magnet and she the finest of needles, inevitably drawn to him.

‘That thought never crossed my mind. I agreed to help, and I have no intention of going back on my word.’

His apparent sincerity was unexpected, making her wonder just why this particular charity was so important to him. Somehow she didn’t connect Lucas Mallory, former Grand Prix champion and now wealthy businessman, with a fund to help premature babies. She might have expected he would give a donation, perhaps, but not this active participation.

But she didn’t get a chance to question him about it, because the next moment that surprising seriousness had vanished from his eyes and the vivid smile was switched on once more.

‘So now it’s up to you. All you have to do is to tell me what you want from me, and I’m at your service. Believe me, it will be nothing but a pleasure to fulfil the desires of such a lovely lady.’

The man flirted as instinctively as he breathed! And in a way he had just given her some sort of explanation for his apparently charitable actions. After all, the whole point of this evening was that only the women present were allowed to bid for the male ‘slaves’.

There was little doubt in Georgia’s mind that Lucas,

whose sobriquet ‘the fastest man on the track’ didn’t just refer to his racing exploits, had seen that he could turn this auction to his own advantage if the opportunity arose. And if it didn’t arise naturally, then he would make sure it happened otherwise.

But not with this particular woman! If he thought that that amazing smile would have her melting helplessly at his feet, then he couldn’t have been more wrong. If anything, it had the opposite effect, stiffening her spine and making her lift her chin in determined challenge. Kelly’s face was clear in her mind, like some sort of mental shield with which to deflect the force of his practised charrn.

‘What I want is for you to stop flirting with me! This is a strictly business arrangement, and I’d prefer it if you kept it that way.’

Now she’d disconcerted him. She could see it in the way his face changed, all warmth fading from it. She could almost sense the swift adjustment in his thoughts as, mentally at least, he took a couple of steps away from her.

He hadn’t expected that response, and it was obvious that he didn’t like it. Clearly it rocked his macho pride to come up against a woman who was immune to his formerly infallible technique.

Tell me,’ Lucas Mallory murmured, in a tone that was so soft, so deceptively warm that for a moment she missed the warning in the tightness of the muscles around the strong jaw, ‘are you usually this prickly with everyone or is this strictly personal?’

‘I am not prickly!’

‘No? Well, in that case I’d hate to meet you when you’re in a bad mood.’

‘My mood is my own business! And if it’s not exactly welcoming, then perhaps you should remember that

you’re the one who imposed his company on me. I didn’t invite you to join me!’

‘Look, lady, I simply came over to introduce myself and find out what you wanted from me in return for your generous donation. I didn’t know I had to wait for a formal introduction. After all, you’re the one who made the first move by bidding for me. I had no intention of imposing on you in any way.’

Georgia flinched away from the lash of his sarcasm, knowing she had no defence against it. She was painfully aware of the possibility that, if she wasn’t very careful, she could risk raining all her plans by alienating him right from the start.

‘Perhaps we’d better begin again.’

To her relief, Lucas followed her lead easily enough.

‘Why don’t I get us both a drink and then we can sit down and talk about it?’

‘Fine. My table’s over there.’

She had to forget how much she disliked men of Lucas Mallory’s type, Georgia told herself firmly as she watched him make his way to the bar. After all, it was precisely because he had that sort of confident, macho lady-killer character that she had chosen him for this scheme in the first place.

She wasn’t the only one who was watching, she noted. Even in the most crowded room, his imposing height and lean strength would mean that many eyes would be drawn to him. The forceful cast of his features under the silky dark hair inevitably made him the centre of much female attention.

But it wasn’t just the female members of the audience who had turned their heads in Lucas’s direction. The aura of confidence and complete self-assurance that seemed to emanate from him so easily made him an object of interest to men too. That interest was touched with a degree of envy, even from the few who were unaware of the full extent of his reputation and success. He would be a perfect match for her father in all ways.

‘Fiver for them,’ Lucas said quietly, making her jump as he placed two wine glasses on the table in front of her. She had watched him walk towards her, and yet now he seemed suddenly disturbingly close, towering over her in a way that she found slightly disturbing.

‘I thought a penny was the usual rate,’ she retorted, and saw his firm mouth curl up at the corners.

‘In the everyday world, perhaps. But at this exclusive gathering I reckon the price must be commensurate with the exorbitant rates they charged for the tickets and the meal, so I worked on a five hundred percent increase.’

‘That seems about right,’ Georgia laughed. ‘Why are you looking at me like that?’

He didn’t answer in words but simply leaned forward and traced the outline of her curved upper lip with a gentle fingertip.

‘Don’t!’

Her head jerked back violently, as if the soft touch had been the burn of white-hot metal. Lucas, however, seemed unconcerned by the hostility of her response.

‘You should smile more often, it changes your face completely,’ he murmured. Then, as she deliberately clamped her mouth tight shut, erasing all traces of her earlier warmth, he pulled out the chair opposite and sat down, reaching for his wine glass. ‘So what were you thinking about?’

Caught off balance, Georgia found that the words were out before she had time to form them fully in her mind.

‘Oh, I was just realising how much you reminded me of my father.’

‘Ah.’ Lucas leaned back in his chair, dark eyes fixed on her face with an unnerving intensity. ‘And is that what put that look on your face?’

‘I-what look?’

‘That “I would rather be anywhere else than here” expression.’

‘Don’t be silly!’ Had she really given so much away? ‘I mean, you know perfectly well why I’m here!’

‘Do I?’ The questioning lift to one dark eyebrow matched the sardonic note in his voice.

‘Of course you do! After all, you’re here for much the same reason.’

‘I’m here to take part in an auction that’s supposed to be a bit of fun, and by doing so help a charity that I—’

‘Which is my aim too.’

‘Really?’

The long, powerful body looked indolently relaxed in his chair, but the watchful darkness of his gaze, with his eyes slightly narrowed, and the restless tapping of one strong hand on the immaculate white linen of the tablecloth, told a very different story.

‘Then why do I feel that there’s some hidden agenda in all this?’

‘Hidden agenda? Oh, really, Mr Mallory!’

‘Lucas,’ he corrected with a soft forcefulness that warned her he would allow for no prevarication.

‘Lucas,’ Georgia amended unwillingly.

His name sounded strange, alien on her tongue, and she had an unpleasant, unnerving feeling of things slipping out of her control.

This was not at all how she had planned that the evening would go. Not that she had really thought beyond the actual auction, she admitted to herself with uncomfortable honesty. She had been determined to be the highest bidder, to secure Lucas Mallory as her ‘slave’ for a day, but after that it had all been vague, to say the least.

One thing she had obviously not taken into account was the part that Lucas himself would play in all of it.

‘There is no hidden agenda, no matter what crazy ideas your over-active imagination has come up with. Like you, I simply came here to support the charity, enjoy a meal and bid in the auction.’

‘And that’s the part that intrigues me,’ Lucas inserted smoothly, throwing her off balance once more. ‘It’s obvious that you haven’t entered into the light-hearted spirit of things like everyone else here. There seems to be a touch of.’

He paused, deliberately appearing to choose his words with infinite care.

‘Of desperation about the way you’re behaving.’

‘Are you implying that the only way I can get a man is to buy one?’

Her voice was too sharp, too high-pitched, giving too much away.

‘On the contrary, I’d have to be completely blind and all sorts of a fool to think any such thing. A woman with your looks would have no need of any such behaviour.’

‘If you think flattery will win me over, you couldn’t be more wrong!’

‘It isn’t flattery, and you know it.’

The indolent pose had been abandoned and he was leaning forward now. The restless movement of his hand had stilled, and one long finger was extended emphatically in order to reinforce his point.

‘You’re a spectacularly beautiful woman. You have style and money of your own. Your clothes would tell me that even if I hadn’t just heard the outrageous amount you bid for my services. My services,’ he repeated with a dangerous edge to his voice that made her heart jerk uncomfortably. ‘You didn’t even look at anyone else.’

The knots into which Georgia’s nerves had twisted tightened painfully as she looked into his black, coldly probing eyes. How did he know that she had shown nointerest in any of the other ‘lots’? Had he been watching her before she had even been aware of him?

‘Which begs the inevitable question—why me? What is it that I can offer you that others can’t?’

‘Well, it’s perfectly simple.’ Georgia snatched at the opening he had given her with a rush of relief. ‘Really, Mr—Lucas—you’ve built this up out of all proportion. I have a rather special party coming up soon, and I need an escort. I don’t happen to have a man in my life at the moment, so when I heard of the auction it seemed too good an opportunity to miss.’

It was half the truth after all, and it sounded perfectly reasonable—to her own ears at least. So why was he looking so sceptical, as if he didn’t believe a word she had said?

‘I mean, they were offering a man’s services for twenty-four hours, and that was all that I needed. And as for the reasons why I chose you, I’m afraid you’ve rather flattered yourself on that score. There was nothing personal in it at all. I simply wanted to give as much as possible to the charity fund. After all, I can afford it. You just happened to be top of the bill.’

Deliberately she made the words sound cold and impersonal, insulting in their objectivity, and she knew that they had struck home as she saw his head go back sharply.

‘It wasn’t that I chose you. It could have been anyone.’

He didn’t look convinced, damn him, but that was all she was prepared to say. Deep down, she had to admit that she was beginning to wish that she had chosen someone else, or had never had this idea in the first place.

‘Any man would have done.’

‘Is that a fact?’ Lucas drawled, lacing the words with silky cynicism. ‘Well, you’ll have to forgive me if I don’t exactly believe you.’

‘Don’t exactly believe’! The arrogance of the man! She’d been warned strongly enough by Kelly, but until now she hadn’t really believed that he could be quite as bad as he was painted. Now she saw he was all of that, and more.

‘I realise that it must be difficult for you to believe that any woman would be able to resist your muchvaunted charms!’ she flung at him, unable to keep her temper under control any longer. ‘But, believe me, such a woman does exist! I want you to understand once and for all that any arrangement between us would have to be strictly business and nothing more.’

Georgia didn’t know if it was devilish amusement or black anger that twisted Lucas’s mouth sharply. She found herself unable to interpret his reaction as his dark head inclined in a gesture that might have been agreement, or something very different.

‘Strictly business.’

‘I want nothing more from you than your time and your—’

Hastily she caught herself up, painfully aware of the fact that she had been about to say ‘your body’. She could just imagine the interpretation he might put on that.

‘And your presence as my escort to the party. Is that clear?’

‘Perfectly.’ Lucas’s tone matched hers in its clipped coldness—matched and outstripped it by a mile as it dripped icy condescension as he added, ‘Though why you need to emphasise that point is beyond me.’

‘What?’ It was as if his words had been an actual, physical slap in the face, leaving her gasping with shock as he got to his feet with leisurely grace. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘No?’

When he smiled like that, for all that the room was packed with people, Georgia suddenly felt as isolated and afraid as if she had been alone with him on some dark and deserted street.

Those black eyes held her hazel ones mockingly as he reached into the inner pocket of his elegant dinner jacket and pulled out a slip of white card.

‘Then let me spell it out. You have no need at all to fear that our relationship will be anything other than the “strictly business” deal you’re so determined to insist on. Because, you see, if I did want anything more personal—more intimate—then, believe me, you would be the last woman on earth I would choose.’

The casual way he tossed the card onto the table so that it fell just short of her hand was deliberately insulting in its arrogance. The insult was deepened by the offhand way he continued.

‘My number’s on there,’ he declared coolly. ‘Ring me when you want to talk business.’

And before Georgia could regain enough composure even to think of a retort, let alone utter it, he had turned on his heel and strode away, disappearing from sight within seconds as he was swallowed up by the crowd.

FOR perhaps the twentieth time that day, Georgia reached into her handbag and pulled out the small slip of white card, frowning darkly as she studied the words printed on it in an elegant script Not that she had any need to read them through again; she already knew them, and the telephone numbers, off by heart.

‘Ring me when you want to talk business.’

Lucas Mallory’s drawling voice echoed inside her head, the calculated note of contemptuous dismissal searing over tightly stretched nerves.

‘If I did want anything more personal.you would be the last woman on earth I would choose.’

‘Damn you!’ Georgia muttered aloud, addressing the words to the piece of card as if it was the man himself. ‘Damn, damn, damn you! The feeling’s totally mutual, and if I never see you again it will be far too soon!’

Given the choice, she would leave the whole thing well alone, tear the card into tiny pieces and deposit it and her unpleasant memories of the meeting with Lucas in the wastepaper bin once and for all

But she didn’t have the choice, that was the real problem. Only that morning her mother had been on the phone, full of gossip and excitement.

‘I’ve booked Wyndhams to do the catering. They did Polly and Tim’s anniversary do and it was wonderful. Oh, and we’re having that trio that played at Meg’s wedding. We’ll open the doors between the sitting room and the dining room so there’ll be plenty of room for dancing, and have the buffet in the garden room—with champagne, of course!’

‘Of course,’ Georgia echoed wanly, but Anna Harding didn’t seem to need any response, being well launched onto her current favourite subject.

‘I did wonder just who I could get to propose the toast, but when Meg suggested Bryn Walker he seemed the obvious choice, and he was delighted to be asked.’

‘Bryn Walker?’ Georgia didn’t recognise the name.

‘The new manager of the Leeds store, darling! He and his wife will be coming, of course.’

‘But I would have thought that someone closer.’ Never a daughter, of course. ‘Perhaps one of his friends.’

‘Oh, but then I wouldn’t have known just who to choose, and I didn’t want to put anyone’s nose out of joint. And, of course, it is such an important anniversary for Harding’s, as well as Dad’s birthday.’

And Georgia knew only too well which of those two events her father would regard as being the most significant. His membership of the Harding dynasty meant much more to him than his position in his own family.

‘Of course,’ she said again, and this time her mother caught the strained note in her voice.

‘You are coming, aren’t you, George?’ Her own tone had sharpened, as if she suspected a possible flaw in her carefully laid plans.

‘Yes, I’m coming,’ Georgia hastened to reassure her. ‘I wouldn’t miss it for the world.’

She hoped she sounded convincing. There was nothing her mother liked less than the suspicion that all was not right in her rather restricted world. But certainly Anna’s concern seemed to have eased.

‘And you’re bringing someone?’

With her own feelings still see-sawing up and down on that particular topic, Georgia could only manage an inarticulate murmur that might have been agreement in reply.

‘Someone special?’

‘Could be—’

It was an effort to keep her voice light. Her parentsher mother in particular-would definitely regard Lucas Mallory as ‘someone special’. The problem was, could she bring herself to ask him to act as her escort now? And even if she did, would he even consider going to the party with her?

The plan that had appeared so attractive and simple at the outset now seemed to be as fraught with difficulties as a trip to the moon, and on the attraction scale it ranked somewhere well below a mouldy apple riddled with maggots.

‘Anyway, we’ll meet him next week, won’t we, darling?’

Next week. Georgia dragged herself back to the present with a swift mental shake. The party was barely ten days away. So if she wanted Lucas to act as her escort—and after all that was why she’d laid out so much money at the auction—she had better stop vacillating and make up her mind pronto.

If. But did she have any alternative? There wasn’t exactly a long queue of handsome, wealthy, successful men lining up at her door, all panting for the honour of escorting her to her father’s damned birthday party!

There was only one thing for it, she told herself, and, not pausing long enough to allow for the possibility of second thoughts, she moved purposefully towards the phone, pressing the numbers that were etched into her memory with stiff, jerky movements that echoed the state of her feelings.

‘Mallory.’

‘Ohe—’

If she acknowledged the truth, she hadn’t expected any answer, at least, not from the man himself. She had deliberately chosen his work number, reasoning that at this time of the evening he was unlikely actually to be in his office so that she could leave a message on the answering machine, or possibly with a late-working secretary, either of which she would have found much easier than having to respond to that clipped, curt greeting.

‘Hello?’

His voice, not warm at the start, had taken on a distinctly icy edge, one that was too uncomfortably reminiscent of bis last words to her for comfort.

‘Look, is this some sort of nuisance—?’

‘No!’

At last the paralysis that had held her tongue frozen seemed to ease, so that she was able to break in on him hastily. She couldn’t bear to think that he might slam the phone down on her, cutting her off so that it would all have to be done again.

‘I was expecting a receptionist or…’

‘Everyone’s gone home but me. I’m not such a slavedriver that I keep my staff working at this time of night, even if I have to. But if you don’t want to speak to me—’

‘No, wait—please, Mr Mallory!’

The silence that greeted her stumbling words was distinctly unnerving. For a long, fraught moment she had the uneasy feeling that, knowing who she was, he might still cut her off, but then, unexpectedly, he laughed.

‘My dear Georgia—’

If his silence had been disconcerting, then his laughter and the mocking note in his voice when he finally spoke did nothing to restore any sort of sense of balance. It certainly went no way towards making her feel that his attitude towards her had mellowed in any way since the night of the auction.

‘You remember me.’

And he recalled her clearly enough to recognise her voice on just those few words. Georgia couldn’t begin to decide how that made her feel.

‘Of course I do,’ that attractive voice murmured silkily in her ear. ‘How could I ever forget my beautiful mistress, particularly when our previous meeting was—’

‘Mistress!’ Georgia exploded, belatedly realising just what he had said. ‘I am no such thing!’

‘No?’ The smooth voice was filled with a carefully assumed tone of innocence—hurt innocence at that! ‘What else would you call someone who owns me outright, so that I am nothing but her slave, bought and paid for.?’

Dear God, she could only pray that he was alone in his office. Her cheeks flamed at simply imagining what anyone else might think at overhearing his side of the conversation.

‘Oh, you mean the auction!’

Georgia couldn’t decide which feeling was uppermost in her mind, the rush of relief at realising just what Lucas meant, or the shockingly sensual reaction that had run along her nerves like an electric current, tightening her scalp and making all the tiny hairs at the nape of her neck lift in instinctive response.

‘I mean that I am yours, body and soul, completely in your power.’

‘Will you please stop this?’

Georgia prayed that she didn’t sound quite as desperate as she felt. This was like some sort of obscene phone call, except that the sensations his words aroused in her were definitely not the fear and disgust she would have felt if that were the case.

‘You were the one who asked me to ring you if I wanted to talk business.’

‘Oh, business—’

It was as if she had flung a bucket of icy water in his face, driving all trace of warmth from his voice and leaving it cold and hard.

‘Of course, I was forgetting you want to keep things on a strictly formal footing. In that case, just what can I do to help you, Ms Harding?’

Once again Georgia was a prey to conflicting feelings. She was stunned to find herself mourning the loss of the warmly sensual tone, while knowing all the time that it had been just a carefully assumed pretence, with no foundation in fact.

But what really worried her was the fact that the way he spoke should affect her in any way at all. After all, they were complete strangers, destined only to connect with each other very briefly before moving on again on separate paths, like two ships that pass in the night.

Or at least that was how she hoped their relationship would be. Certainly, it was how she would make sure it would be if she had her way!

‘I’d like to discuss our—our—’

Furious with her hesitation, she hunted frantically for the right word.

‘Date?’ Lucas supplied, with what she felt was an unnecessarily exaggerated helpfulness. ‘Assignation?’

‘Our arrangement’ Georgia managed at last.

‘Oh, yes, you said you’d let me know precisely what sort of services you require.’

‘I hardly think “services” is quite the right term!’

‘You mean you want to define my duties,’ Lucas amended, with a smooth courteousness that had her gritting her teeth against a furious retort.

‘Duties’ wasn’t much better, but she decided to let it pass this time.

‘You said something about a party, I believe. Was that the truth?’

‘Of course it was the truth! What the hell else could it be?’

‘I’ve heard better stories.’

‘You’ve heard.!’

The arrogance of the man! Georgia could only be grateful for the fact that he was on the other end of the telephone wires and so couldn’t see the way her mouth had actually fallen open on a gasp of sheer disbelief.

‘Mr Mallory, are you implying that I was simply making up the story of needing an escort to a party in order to—to—enjoy the pleasure of your company for twenty-four hours?’

She injected every degree of coldness she could muster into her words in order to make her feelings clear, and was almost surprised not to see ice crystals actually form on the receiver as she spoke.

‘You’d be surprised what infantile excuses some women come up with,’ he returned blithely, apparently totally unfazed by her attempt to freeze him out.

Kelly had been right! Georgia thought furiously. The man flirted with anything in a skirt! He believed every woman to be fair game, needing only a little encouragement in order to fall flat at his feet, even if she was doing her damnedest to make it clear that she wasn’t in the least bit interested!

‘But someone who looks like you doesn’t need to invent any such story. You only had to ask. In fact, you didn’t even need to say anything. If you’d just waited a little while, I—’

‘Mr Mallory!’

Georgia closed her eyes tight, as if by doing so she could block out the unnerving spell that that soft, enticing voice seemed to be weaving around her senses.

‘Lucas,’ he corrected irrepressibly, but she ignored him and plunged on, drawing on all her self-control to keep her voice steady.

‘I have tried to be polite about this, but you appear incapable of taking in what I’m saying. It seems that I have no option but to spell it out in words of one syllable! I do not—repeat, not—want to spend any time with you. And no matter how hard you may find it to believe that any woman could resist your much-vaunted attractions, let me assure you that here is one woman at least who is totally immune—impervious—to your so-called charms! If the nuclear bomb had dropped and you and I were the only people left alive on this earth I would still not want to spend any more than a minute in your company unless I had to. I am not that desperate!’

‘Aren’t you?’

‘I…’

She had opened her mouth to deny the suggestion furiously, to tell him in no uncertain terms just what she thought of him, when realisation had her stopping dead. It seemed that his impertinent question had been repeated inside her own thoughts, echoing it perfectly, right down to the infuriatingly mocking intonation.

‘So tell me,’ Lucas persisted. ‘If you’re not that desperate, then why did you attend the auction at all? Why not just ask some friend to act as your escort? Why did you have to pay for someone and not just anyone, but one particular man—me?’

‘I don’t have any friends—male friends, I mean. At least, not the sort of friends I could ask to help me out in this.’

‘No one who’ll simply be your escort?’ Lucas’s tone was frankly sceptical. ‘Come off it, Georgia! Any fool—’

‘Any fool won’t do!’

Her outburst fell into a silence that sent a frisson of apprehension shivering down her spine, a silence that grew longer and longer as Lucas stubbornly refused to say a word, obviously waiting for her to speak first. It didn’t take too long for his deliberate obstinacy to stretch her nerves almost to breaking point.

‘Oh, all right! I don’t just want an escort.’

Feeling that she had been backed into a corner, mentally at least, Georgia knew that her grip on her selfcontrol had loosened dangerously.

‘I want someone whose reputation precedes him as yours inevitably does. Someone who has the sort of immediate impact you have simply by walking into a room.’

‘Well, thanks for the compliment. I didn’t know you cared,’ was the sardonic retort. ‘But I still don’t see—’

‘And I want someone who’ll travel with me to Yorkshire to meet my family, but someone who’s not involved in any way. Someone who’ll do just as I say and no more. I need someone—a man—who’ll act his heart out so that he makes it look as if I’m the centre of his universe, the sun in his sky. Someone who can convince everyone at the party that he is hopelessly, head over heels in love with me, just for one day, and then go, walk out of my life without a word, and never come back.’

She paused, expecting some comment, but none came and she had to go on in order to fill the uncomfortable silence.

‘I want a total commitment for that twenty-four hours I’ve paid for, and then nothing—no arguments, no emotional entanglements, just a clean, sharp break. As I said, strictly business. And because it is a business deal I expected to have to pay very well for such a performance.’

This time the silence that fell when she finally finished speaking had a slightly stunned quality about it, one that had her thinking back over precisely what she had just said. She couldn’t stop herself from wincing when she became painfully aware of just how much she had let drop.

What had come over her? she asked herself shakenly, thankful that the fiery colour that flooded her face couldn’t be seen by the man at the other end of the telephone wires. Or perhaps that was why it had happened. Perhaps it was simply because she couldn’t see him, was unable to judge his reaction from his face, that the restraints that normally controlled her tongue had been loosened, resulting in the uninhibited outburst.

But why didn’t he say something—anything? As the silence drew out, even longer than before, she was finally forced to wonder whether in fact Lucas was still there. But she knew she hadn’t heard the receiver being replaced, and it was silence she could hear, not the disconnected buzz of the dialling tone.

Just when she thought that her nerves had been reduced to tangled shreds, that she might scream if something didn’t happen soon, she heard his drily drawling tones once more.

That’s a pretty tall order, lady. This party must mean a hell of a lot to you.’

‘You could say that.’

Georgia’s laugh was weak and shaky, and obviously her voice had had no more strength either.

‘What did you say? I didn’t catch that.’

‘I said, yes, damn you, it does! But that’s my problem. All I need to know from you is whether you’re going to help me. Will you do it? Will you abide by our bargain and be my escort, with all that that implies, for just twenty-four hours?’

Unconsciously she crossed her fingers, twisting them tightly in the telephone cord as she held her breath, waiting for his answer.

‘I’ll have to think about it,’ Lucas said at last after another interminable wait. ‘Give me ten minutes.’

And this time he did put the phone down on her, cutting her off abruptly and leaving Georgia staring in shock and confusion at the silent receiver in her hand.

‘LUCAS?’

It took a couple of seconds for Georgia to register just what had happened.

‘Lucas!’

She shook the receiver angrily, almost as if wishing it was the man himself, but of course it remained stubbornly uncommunicative, the only sound that issued from it the monotonous buzz of the dialling tone.

‘Oh, damn you! You arrogant pig!’

How dared he? How dared he just cut her off like that?

Then again, he had said to give him ten minutes, so perhaps.

She waited, scrupulous to the very last second, before she dialled the number again, her fingers tapping restlessly on the chair-arm.

‘Pick up the phone, you pig! Answer me!’

But the repetitive sound of the phone ringing on and on at the other end of the line continued unbroken until, in a fury, she slammed the receiver back into its rest, cursing Lucas Mallory savagely as she did so.

So now what? Lucas might be perfect for her plan; she had even admitted as much to him just now, blurting it out without considering the possible consequences. But if he was going to use her declaration of how much she needed him as a weapon against her, a way of manipulating the situation from the position of power that she had inadvertently put him in, then was even perfection worth all the hassle that would inevitably result?

But he was perfect. And what were her chances of finding someone even remotely like him to act as a replacement at such short notice? After all, she had already told her mother, or at least hinted that she was bringing ‘someone special’ to the party, and the thought of facing her father alone after all was a prospect she viewed without any pleasure at all.

‘Oh, damn you, Mallory!’

Her fingers clenched around Lucas’s card, twisting it as viciously as she wished she could Mr Cool’s elegant neck. But even as she did so another thought struck home, one that had her smoothing out the piece of pasteboard and reading the numbers from it once more as she pressed the buttons on her phone with urgent haste.

Of course! He’d needed the ten minutes to get home! No matter how much she might want to keep things on a strictly business footing, Lucas Mallory, the man whose nickname ‘the fastest man on the track’ didn’t simply refer to his racing career, would never consider any negotiation with a presentable female on those terms. And if she had any doubts, she had only to recall that he had described her as—what was it?

‘Oh, damn!’

Just the thought of that provocatively seductive voice murmuring the words ‘my beautiful mistress’ had distracted her so that she had pressed the wrong sequence of numbers. Drawing a deep, calming breath, she started again, concentrating fiercely this time.

‘Be there!’ she muttered as the phone began to ring. ‘Please be there!’

Tensed up as she was, it took her several unfocused seconds to realise that the sound she could hear in her left ear was not the same as the one that rang unremittingly in the right. When she finally registered that the loudest, most persistent sound was in fact her front doorbell, she got to her feet in a rush.

‘I’m coming!’ she called, hurrying down the hallway. ‘I’m sorry! I—Oh, hell!’

As always, the tight-fitting door stuck awkwardly, and she had to struggle hard to open it.

‘I’m sorry! I was on the phone, and I—Oh!’

Flustered, out of breath from her battle with the door, decidedly mentally off balance and with her hair falling in tumbled disarray around her flushed cheeks, she was ill-prepared for the sight that met her eyes.

‘What are you doing here?’

The smile that Lucas Mallory turned on her was wide and bright, perfectly composed and totally disarming.

‘Good evening, Georgia. I’m sorry I’m a bit late, but it took rather longer than I’d calculated to get across town.’

‘Longer than.?’

‘Give me ten minutes’! All the time that she had been trying to get through to him on the phone he had been on his way here!

‘Well, can I come in?’

Lucas sounded mildly amused, almost as if he knew just what she had been through in the interval between the moment he had put the phone down and his unexpected appearance. His smile broadened and Georgia had a sudden, unpleasant mental image of just how she must look—red-faced and with her hair all over the place, dressed unflatteringly in an elderly beige sloppy Joe sweater with brown cord leggings. It must be obvious that she had been very much caught on the hop.

‘Or do you want me to wait in the car until you’re ready?’

‘Ready?’ This time she didn’t care if her confusion showed. ‘Ready for what?’

The tiny quirking of one corner of his beautifully shaped mouth betrayed an impulse to respond with some provocative suggestion, but he resisted the temptation admirably, saying instead, ‘For dinner. I take it you weren’t planning on going to the restaurant dressed like that.’

The look he turned on her clothes was distinctly uncomplimentary.

‘I wasn’t planning on anything!’

With an effort, Georgia restrained herself from banging her hand against the side of her head to clear the confusion. She felt as if she was appearing in some play where the script was constantly being changed without warning.

‘And I don’t recall you asking me out!’

‘I didn’t’ The gleam in those dark eyes was totally unrepentant. ‘But it seems the obvious answer.’

‘Answer to what? Nothing seems in the least bit obvious to me. Oh, look, you’d better come in.’

Perhaps once inside, back in the security of her own familiar surroundings, she might be able to think clearly again. But, unfortunately for her hard-won composure, the first thing that caught Georgia’s eye as she led the way into the sitting room was the telephone receiver, still dangling from the edge of the table where she had dropped it in her haste to answer the summons from the doorbell.

The thought of Lucas realising that she had still been trying to get in touch with him, the possible interpretation that he was capable of putting on that fact, sharpened her voice more than she had planned when she turned to him to ask, ‘Now, why are you really here?’

‘I told you. I want to take you out to dinner.’

‘Why?’

One dark eyebrow lifted slightly at her tone, and Lucas’s mouth twisted cynically.

‘Oh, don’t worry, darling,’ he drawled tauntingly. ‘I’ve no designs on your body, delectable though it may be. Believe me, I prefer my women with a rather more approachable side to their personality.’

She just bet he did! And if that crack about her ‘delectable’ body was supposed to flatter her into seeing him in a more favourable light then he’d better think again. She had no delusions about her own appearance, and knew she was certainly not the fantasy female type. The dig about personality was likely to be much closer to fact

‘I just thought that if I was to do my job properly, then we ought to get better acquainted,’ he went on.

‘Is that really necessary?’

‘Well, I’m hardly going to convince anyone that I’m hopelessly enamoured of you if I don’t know a single thing about your background.’

‘Oh, but—’

Just when she had thought she was getting things back under control once more, he knocked her for six all over again. She really should have thought things through more thoroughly.

The truth was that all she had visualised was the look on her father’s face when she turned up at his birthday party with Lucas Mallory at her side. But now she was forced to face the fact that there was a great deal more involved in all this than she had anticipated, and involved was very definitely the word for the position in which she now found herself.

‘I can’t see you being “hopelessly enamoured” of anyone,’ she muttered, knowing deep down that she also couldn’t see him really understanding any of her private reasons for doing this in the first place. ‘But surely I don’t have to tell you things face to face? Couldn’t I just put all the facts in a letter?’

‘A business memo, perhaps?’ Lucas mocked. ‘The file on Georgia Harding: name, date of birth, address.’

The final word sparked off a whole new set of questions in Gerogia’s mind.

‘And that’s another thing. How did you know where I lived?’

His shrug dismissed her concern as unimportant.

‘Why is that a problem? I know names and addresses and a whole lot more about all my other business associates.’

‘Yes, but I’m not just—’

Too late, she saw the trap he had laid gaping widely beneath her feet, and backed off hastily, but not quite swiftly enough. Lucas had seen her reaction, she realised, seen it and noted it with a smile that was frankly predatory, making her heart lurch uncomfortably.

‘In my case I think it’s more of an invasion of privacy. If I’d wanted you to know, I’d have told you.’

‘And the fact that you didn’t tell me was far more intriguing than any more direct information, as I’m sure you must know.’

That smile had grown, lighting but not warming the darkness of his eyes in a way that made Georgia think shiveringly of a soaring eagle focusing intently on the innocent rabbit or mouse it had marked out as its prey.

‘If you’re thinking that I did it deliberately in order to “intrigue” you, then I’m afraid I’ll have to disillusion you on that score.’

She could see only too well just how it would arouse his interest, of course.

‘I mean, I can see that a man like you, who’s used to having women if not actually throwing themselves at your feet, then at least coming running if you so much as click your fingers—’

‘You have a decidedly exaggerated idea of my appeal, Ms Harding,’ Lucas drawled with lazy mockery. ‘Or is it that your opinion of your own sex is so very low that you believe they have so little respect for themselves as to behave as you say?’

‘You’re a fine one to talk about respect!’ Georgia flung at him. ‘Particularly where women are concerned!’

That barb struck home, the long back stiffening in response, the dark head coming up, granite eyes blazing into hers.

‘And just what is that supposed to mean?’

Oh, damn, she’d gone a bit too far, said more than she had meant to.

‘I read the papers!’

‘And believe every word?’ he demanded cynically. ‘I gave you credit for rather more intelligence than that.’

Georgia wasn’t at all sure how to respond to the deliberately double-edged compliment, feeling as if she had been backed into a very uncomfortable corner.

‘And I have a friend-’

‘Oh, of course! And does this friend have a name?’

Georgia shifted awkwardly from one foot to another, feeling that she had been pushed into a corner yet again.

‘I promised I wouldn’t say.’

‘I see.’

The two syllables were so brutally clipped and curt that they made Georgia think uncomfortably of the sound of a door slamming shut, or the trap that she had imagined earlier snapping closed with bone-crushing force.

‘So you can throw out accusations, put any slur you fancy on my reputation, and I’m not even allowed to know the name of your informant?’

He was dangerously close to losing that famed cool. Georgia realised nervously, his potentially dangerous temper only being held in check by ruthless control.

‘You probably wouldn’t even remember her. And, besides, I don’t think your reputation—’ deliberately she gave the word a sardonic intonation ‘—needs any help from me.’

‘So that’s the way it is, is it? You’ve barely spoken more than a couple of hundred words to me and yet already you have me tried and convicted, found guilty without even so much as a chance to state my case.’

Georgia had to acknowledge that his assessment of the situation was close to the truth. The admission made her conscience prick her unmercifully, because normally she tried to be scrupulously fair.

‘And are you trying to claim that all of those newspaper reports were untrue? That you haven’t been linked with—oh, let me see.’

She listed names off the top of her head, counting each one off on her fingers as she did so. He let her get to nine before breaking in on her.

‘No, I won’t. I can’t deny that they were once part of my life.’

‘With the emphasis on once and part, I presume.’

Georgia was disturbed by her own reaction. She felt almost raw inside in response to the way he hadn’t even tried to reject her accusation of promiscuity, and yet should that bother her? If he wanted to risk his life by being so thoroughly irresponsible, then that was his own stupid business. She had no reason to be disappointed to find he was just as the Press had painted him.

‘And are you trying to say that you have never split up with a boyfriend, a lover? That you never realised that seeing someone was a mistake or that it was time to move on?’

‘Of course not!’

‘Of course not,’ he echoed cynically. ‘And I suppose that the so-perfect Ms Harding has never been dumped by someone you thought cared, someone—’

‘All right, you’ve made your point!’

‘Aha!’ Those dark eyes gleamed with unholy triumph. The eagle had swooped down on its prey with deadly accuracy. ‘Caught you on the raw then, did I?’

Hating him, though whether for his triumph or for seeing through her defences she wasn’t sure, Georgia drew a deep breath.

‘Oh, yes, all right! I’ve had my share of broken relationships.’

‘So tell me about them.’

Georgia blinked hard in shock, unable to believe her eyes as Lucas shrugged off his elegant pale grey jacket, tugging his tie loose at his throat and unbuttoning his shirt collar before settling himself in a chair. He leaned back comfortably, crossing one leg over the other with every appearance of total ease.

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘Tell me about them,’ he repeated, resting his head on the soft cushions and looking up, straight into her face, clearly noting the hectic colour that flared in her cheeks, the glitter of irritation in her eyes.

‘I’ll do no such thing! Just what do you think gives you the right to barge in here—?’

‘You did,’ he inserted into her tirade with infuriating calmness, adding with exaggerated care, ‘And I didn’t barge, you invited me in.’

‘But only because I had no choice! And I didn’t give you the right to pry into my life.’

Those dark grey eyes widened in an expression of carefully assumed innocence.

‘Oh, but you did, Gia. From the moment you lifted your pretty little hand in order to hid at that auction you made me part of your life, and, inevitably, that also meant that you became part of mine. Naturally, I was curious about the woman who thought that twenty-four hours of my company was worth the outrageous amount you ended up paying, donation to charity or not.’

‘No.’ Her mind flinched away from the idea of being part of his life. That was not what she wanted at all. ‘It’s a business deal—no involvement.’

But Lucas ignored her interjection and continued as if she hadn’t spoken.

‘And, of course, if you want me to act as if I’ve known you for some time, then the little I already know isn’t enough.’

‘It’s more than—’ A thought struck her, a vital question that she had wanted to ask earlier but other things had distracted her. ‘How did you find out where I lived?’

His smile was slow, lazily taunting.

‘I asked questions. You’d be amazed how many people were keen to tell me all about my new “owner”.’

‘No, I wouldn’t,’ Georgia growled. She was well aware of the fact that her action in bidding at the auction—for anyone, but especially for Lucas—had caused more than a flutter of interest. It wasn’t the sort of behaviour people expected of her.

‘So you know about your reputation, do you?’

If that was supposed to throw her, then she was more than happy to spoil his moment of pleasure by pulling that particular rug out from under his elegantly booted feet

‘As the Ice Maiden?’ she returned, with a coolness that made it plain where the nickname had come from, matching anything he had ever displayed. She even managed a smile, although it wasn’t reflected in her eyes in any way. ‘Of course I know.’

‘Why do they call you that?’ To her surprise, Lucas sounded as if he really wanted to know.

Georgia lifted her shoulders in a shrug that defined the subject as being totally unimportant to her.

‘They think that any woman who puts her career first and concentrates on it to the exclusion of anything or anyone else must be very strange or fundamentally frigid’

‘And yet in a man they’d admire it.’

‘Precisely.’

She wasn’t going to admit that he had surprised her, that his comment was the last thing she had expected. She had anticipated further uncomfortable probing into just why she put her career before relationships.

‘But of course you’d understand. After all, that’s how you run your life.’

‘Used to,’ Lucas corrected, continuing without any further elaboration, ‘And is this why you need an escort?’

‘Mmm.’

Georgia couldn’t quite meet those probing eyes, feeling irrationally that if she looked into them he might actually be able to see right into her thoughts and realise that the party was only part of her problem, that there was a great deal she was leaving unsaid.

‘I really think you should have dinner with me.’

‘And I really think that there’s no need for that. I can tell you all you need to know without any fuss.’

‘No, you can’t.’

‘Of course I can!’

Lucas shook his head adamantly, lounging back in his chair once more, his comfortably relaxed posture and the smug smile playing around the corners of his mouth infuriating her further.

‘Would you mind telling me just what is going to be so damn difficult about it? I really can’t see any problem at all. After all, you seem to have already started the process on your own. I mean, how did you find out where I live?’

‘As I said, I asked questions.’

‘You asked questions,’ Georgia said hollowly, not liking the idea at all.

‘And I got some very interesting answers.’

That caught her attention, though she couldn’t have said whether she was intrigued or angry at the thought of him prying into her private life.

‘Such as?’ She couldn’t help herself.

‘Oh.’

Lucas assumed a thoughtful expression, as if considering his options.

‘Such as the fact that you’re twenty-seven, unmarried, with no steady man in your life at the moment You have your own interior design company and I gather you’re building up quite a reputation.’

‘That’s not interesting!’ Georgia scoffed. ‘It’s common knowledge.’

‘It’s interesting to me.’

‘You can’t expect me to believe that! After all, you’re the one with the high profile lifestyle, the international reputation, why should you take any int—?’

‘And why not?’

Lucas startled her by getting to his feet as he spoke, coming towards her soft-footed as a cat, his eyes so deep and dark they seemed to hold hers with mesmeric force.

‘Why not?’ he murmured in a very different voice, one that seemed to wind itself around her like warm smoke, weaving through the rich strands of her hair, feathering over her skin, raising tiny prickles of awareness all over her body. ‘Why shouldn’t I be interested in—fascinated by—the most beautiful woman in the room at that charity auction? A woman whose clear, bright eyes make me think of a young doe in a forest glade, whose skin is as soft and delicate as the ripest peach.’

Reaching out with slow grace, he took her hand very gently, and entranced, hypnotised by his eyes and his voice, she couldn’t resist him, couldn’t fight against the seductive spell he was weaving. She almost believed he had the power to charm her soul out of her body like some long ago druid or shamen.

‘A woman whose hair gleams the colour of a newly opened horse chestnut, whose body could be the model for Botticelli’s Venus.’

Georgia hadn’t even noticed that he had raised her hand, lifting it the final couple of inches to meet his lips. It was only when she felt the warm, soft pressure of his mouth against her fingers that reality broke through the golden trance in which she had been imprisoned.

The burning crackle of response that flared through her nerves from that one point of contact, blazing up her arm and radiating throughout her body, made her snatch her hand away sharply. She would have been unable to ascribe the small cry that escaped her either to delight or distress with any degree of confidence.

‘Stop it!’

Her voice was high-pitched and shaking, and she cradied the hand he had kissed against her as if it had actually been physically burned.

‘I don’t want this! I—I—’

She broke off sharply, stunned into silence as Lucas grinned broadly, his eyes lighting with a devilish, totally unrepentant gleam that mocked her response for the overreaction it was.

‘Just practising,’ he murmured. ‘You said you wanted someone who could make people think that you are the centre of their universe, the sun in the sky.’

That grin widened, became positively malevolent.

‘And if I can convince you, then I can convince anyone.’

‘Convince-—rs; The word cracked disastrously in the middle as the reality of just what he was saying hit home to her. ‘You—!’

She couldn’t say which was worse, the skill with which he had duped her, or the nagging ache around her heart that told her he had only been able to deceive her so easily because some weak, foolish part of her had actually wanted to believe his extravagant protestations. No, not wanted, she hastily corrected herself, but she had listened to them with more attention than was wise.

Instead of which, every ounce of common sense, every trace of self-preservation she possessed should have screamed at her to reject Lucas’s attentions out of hand After all, she knew it was the type of thing he must do to almost every girl he met, and as such it was the last thing on earth she wanted. But somehow, even as she formed it in her mind, the stern admonition didn’t quite ring true.

‘But your reaction was a little lacking in enthusiasm,’ Lucas persisted, apparently blithely unaware of her withdrawal. ‘You’ll need to be a lot more relaxed, more responsive, if we’re ever to have anyone believing we’re a couple.’

The last word caught on some raw spot in Georgia’s strangely vulnerable heart, tugging at it sharply so that she had to struggle to ignore it.

‘It’s only for a few hours! Just for the party!’

‘A few hours can seem a very long time in the wrong company. And I presume that if this party means travelling to Yorkshire, then it also involves the necessity for an overnight stay. Unless, of course, you plan on doing a Cinderella act and disappearing as soon as the celebrations are over. If we’re going to keep up this farce for a day or so, and put on a performance that appears even halfway credible, then we’ll have to look as if we’re comfortable in each other’s company, as if we’ve been together for some time.’

Once again Georgia’s heart gave that uncomfortable little kick, making her draw in her breath on a sharp, uneven gasp.

‘We have to work on this face to face. So come on, Gia…’

His voice had softened again, becoming huskily cajoling.

‘What harm could dinner do?’

Shockingly, disturbingly, it seemed that gentleness could break through her defences more swiftly and easily than any more forceful approach. Georgia found herself considering both his question and the invitation behind it with unexpected seriousness.

‘I—’

But somehow the act of opening her mouth, of forming the single syllable managed to shake her out of the sense of weakness to which she had almost succumbed. Not for nothing had Lucas reminded her of her father, she reflected bitterly. Like her parent in her childhood, and others since, he wanted it all his own way, and to hell with anyone else.

She wasn’t going to be bulldozed into doing as he wanted! She wouldn’t let him take charge in this way, wouldn’t surrender control to him. If she did then he would take over completely, make her play by his rules, and that was not how she wanted things to be at all.

‘No,’ she said firmly, feeling as if she had just taken a hasty step backwards from a carefully baited trap over which her unwary foot had been hovering. ‘I told you, I want no personal involvement in any of this. It’s strictly business, and nothing more.’

Her sharp tone had Lucas’s grey eyes narrowing dangerously, the muscles in the forceful jaw drawing tight around his mouth and thinning it to a hard, slashing line.

‘Strictly business,’ he snapped. ‘Fine. But even in my business deals I try to give the best I can, and to do that I’ll need to know all the facts. If you can’t-’

Abruptly he broke off, shaking his dark head before swinging away from her, looking round for his discarded jacket.

‘No, this isn’t going to work,’ he told her, snatching the expensive garment up from the chair on which it lay and pulling it on, the controlled force of his movements betraying his mood and the difficulty he was having in keeping his anger at her prevarication in check. ‘It’s been a mistake from the start, so let’s just call the whole thing off before we make matters worse. We’ll say goodbye now and put it down to experience.’

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