Wedding-Night Baby. KIM LAWRENCE

her turbulent eyes to his impassive face. ‘I take it I’m meant to be forced to display that I’m full of radical action by sleeping with you—not the safe option.’

      He appeared unfazed by her hot accusation. ‘You have been thinking about it, then,’ he said with a small, disturbing smile playing about the corners of his lips.

      Her vehement denial died as she met the cynical knowledge in his eyes. She acknowledged she’d just been manoeuvred into a corner by something of an expert. The music had stopped and they stayed stationary in the middle of the floor. Her attention was so concentrated on her partner than she didn’t hear Alex the first time he spoke.

      ‘Can I have the next dance, Georgie?’

      She spun around, eyes wide, her cheeks still flushed from the stimulation of her fencing with Callum.

      ‘Go ahead, sweetheart,’ Callum urged, his hand comfortably patting her behind encouragingly. He regarded the slightly younger man in an almost indulgent manner that visibly grated on Alex. ‘The least I can do, as indirectly you’re responsible for my meeting Georgina. Incidentally, she hates being called Georgie; didn’t she ever tell you?’ The music started up and he slipped away, his long strides taking him swiftly out of sight into the crowd.

      ‘Shall we?’

      Georgina pulled herself together with a tense smile. She’d been staring after Callum like a hypnotised idiot; embarrassment at this bizarre behaviour brought a fresh rush of colour to her skin. She thought wistfully of the bland partner she’d imagined.

      ‘You look well, Georgie...Georgina,’ Alex stumbled awkwardly. ‘I hardly recognised you.’

      ‘Should I be flattered? But it’s still the same old me, Alex.’ Or was she? she wondered, still in daze. The nights of bitterness and heartache, the sense of betrayal and the deep sense of inadequacy she’d fought against with all her will seemed oddly distant as she faced the object of all those thwarted desires.

      ‘You seem different.’

      She glanced at him curiously, surprised that she could be objective. He sounded faintly piqued at the transformation, which consisted mostly of a sophisticated outfit and an air of self-confidence that was three parts artifice.

      Had Alex ever looked beyond the surface? she wondered. She’d been very young when she’d met him and malleable in many ways. That had suited Alex. The only contention that had ever arisen between them had occurred when she had insisted she wanted more careerwise than a receptionist’s job. When she’d insisted on going on her business-studies course, commuting home at weekends, he’d been stiffly disapproving.

      ‘Everyone grows up, Alex,’ she observed now, with a wistfulness partly reserved for her lost naïvety. Everyone had known about Alex and Harriet for weeks before she had caught on. The constriction in her throat swelled.

      ‘I treated you pretty badly.’

      ‘Yes,’ she agreed, noticing he was the first one to look away. She’d wanted to make him wonder whether he’d made the right decision and, if she read the signs correctly, that was exactly what he was doing. Strange how little pleasure it afforded her. ‘Lovely wedding.’

      ‘I wanted something simple.’

      ‘Harriet didn’t,’ she observed with a faint smile. What Harriet wants, Harriet gets, including my man!

      He shrugged awkwardly and she worked hard not to tangle her feet with his. Dancing with Callum had been as easy as breathing—a strange combination of instinct and rhythm. The contrast made her frown.

      ‘Emotional hothouses, weddings,’ she said lightly.

      ‘I miss you. I didn’t realise how much...’

      The words she’d longed to hear filled her with a sudden deep panic. ‘I don’t think you should be saying this, Alex.’ He’d manoeuvred them into a quiet alcove and the drop in volume meant that her voice sounded loud.

      ‘Neither do L’

      Startled, she spun around to see Callum watching them, leaning with negligent ease against a fake Doric pillar.

      ‘I was just...’ Alex blustered, letting go of Georgina and backing off a step.

      ‘I know exactly what you were doing, mate.’ The smile on Callum’s lips was benevolent, but the expression in his eyes made the younger man blanch. ‘I suggest you lie in the bed of your own making and leave Georgina to lie in hers. Speaking of which, darling, I’ve managed to get us the last room available. You’ve had too much to drink and I’m not about to drive that death trap of yours.’

      ‘But...’ she began, alarm and outrage in her eyes.

      ‘You don’t need to be in work until Tuesday so why worry?’

      ‘See you, Georgie,’ Alex muttered, sliding away.

      ‘Oh...what? Yes, sure.’ To him their exchange must have seemed incredibly intimate. A light squabble between two lovers.

      ‘Aren’t you going to thank me for rescuing you? Or didn’t the lady want to be rescued? Seducing the bridegroom on his wedding night might be the sort of revenge your soul craves.’

      She was so angry that she felt as if she’d explode with frustration. ‘My cravings are none of your business. How dare you interfere?’ she breathed wrathfully. ‘I can only hope your little contribution was pure fiction.’

      He shrugged his broad shoulders. ‘How had you intended getting home? You’ve been knocking back the vino with splendid abandon all afternoon.’

      The way his eyes moved over her body as he said ‘splendid abandon’ made her head spin slightly and she didn’t think ‘vino’ had anything to do with her reaction. ‘I can’t afford this place,’ she said in a hushed tone. The rather over-the-top grandeur of the establishment was not to her taste and she was sure the prices were even less so.

      ‘Don’t worry, I’ll pay.’

      ‘You seem to be very affluent all of a sudden,’ she said with suspicion.

      ‘Well, at least you’ve not objected to spending the night with me,’ he said, pleased to see the distrust swallowed up by horror.

      ‘I have no intention of spending the night with you. I’ll spend the night with Mother.’

      ‘Who left a little earlier... and she wasn’t alone. You might not be welcome there.’

      She swallowed, admitting the accuracy of his surmise. ‘How did you know I don’t need to be in work till Tuesday? ’ she said, suddenly realising a point that had been niggling at the back of her mind.

      ‘You must have told me,’ he said carelessly. ‘Whilst you were elaborating on your amazingly responsible position.’

      She sucked in her breath wrathfully. The faint curl of disdain on his lips made her stiffen. ‘I wasn’t aware I said anything of the sort. You seem doubtful that I’m capable of working.’

      He shrugged. ‘It depends on how far you got due to your pretty face.’

      Now she knew he was being sarcastic; pretty was one thing her face was not! ‘I got where I am due to my own merits and a bit of luck. Much like anyone else, irrespective of sex. Just because you rely on your looks and dubious charm, don’t assume we’re all tarred with the same brush.’

      ‘From what you said, your boss took a bit of a shine to you. I suppose your high-flown morals didn’t let you take advantage of the fact?’ he responded drily.

      ‘Oliver merely gave me an opportunity to prove myself,’ she said stiffly. The idea of Oliver being influenced by anyone or anything beyond his precious company was laughable. ‘But if his successor has the same biased outlook as you I probably will be out on my ear shortly. I would imagine he’ll be advised to do just that,’ she admitted, a frown pleating her smooth brow.

      On