Table of Contents

Cover Page

Excerpt

About The Author

Title Page

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Copyright

“We have unfinished business.”

The only unfinished business she was aware they had was the time she had spent in his arms—and she certainly had no intention of finishing that! “I don’t think so.” Joy shook her head. What did Marcus Ballantyne think she was? Did he really believe she was a woman who had a string of lovers? And did he want to be one of them?

“I want you, Joy.” Marcus spoke almost angrily. “I’ve tried to put you out of my mind, but it just isn’t possible. I want you. And I intend to have you. Exclusively,” he added grimly.

Joy stared up at him. He didn’t want to be one of her lovers, he wanted to be the one— and the only one!

CAROLE MORTIMER is the youngest of three children and grew up in a small English village with her parents and two brothers. She still loves nothing better than going “home” to visit her family. She has three very active sons, four cats, and a dog, which doesn’t leave her a lot of time for hobbies! She has written almost one hundred romance novels for Harlequin.

The One and Only
Carole Mortimer

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Peter—

Eternity

CHAPTER ONE

WHAT a bore!

God, how had she ever got herself into this? She hadn’t—Casey had got her into it. As usual. It was typical of Casey: he had been getting her into one scrape or another all their lives.

But this time he had excelled himself.

It had all sounded so simple when he had explained it to her a couple of weeks ago. She should have known then—nothing was ever simple where Casey was concerned.

First prize in a Valentine competition. A week’s stay in a luxurious hotel, plus a show and supper on Valentine’s night with a television star.

‘It sounds marvellous, Casey,’ Joy had told him distractedly when he called round for dinner with her one evening.

‘Bad day at the library?’ Casey had quirked curious brows at her, blue eyes alight with mischief. Again, as usual.

How could anyone have a ‘bad day’ working in a library? And yet, as Casey very well knew, too many of Joy’s working days were fraught with tension. Still, beggars couldn’t be choosers—and she needed the job. Even with all its problems.

Her grimace in Casey’s direction, as he had leant so casually against one of the kitchen units as he watched her prepare their meal, had told its own story.

‘You should have left months ago—sorry.’ Casey had held his hands up apologetically as Joy glared up at him warningly. ‘I know I promised after— well, after, that I wouldn’t say I told you so—’

‘And you’ve done nothing but since!’ she had snapped, her eyes sparkling deeply green.

‘Only because you will insist on sticking it out there, putting yourself through unnecessary grief, wasting your love on someone who…Well, this competition is just what you need to cheer you up.’ He had hastily changed the subject as he saw the light of battle in Joy’s eyes.

At five feet two she might be a foot shorter than he was, but he knew that, if he pushed too much, the temper that matched her red hair would surely surface. It might take time, but it did surface.

‘Cheer me up?’ She frowned as she realised what he had said. ‘What does it have to do with me?’

‘Well, I can hardly go on this week’s holiday, to the show and then supper, so I naturally thought you might like to go instead of me. And—’

‘Just stop there, Casey,’ Joy interrupted drily, abandoning the dinner for a moment, sensing that she needed to give the whole of her attention to what Casey was saying—otherwise she could, as she had many times in the past, find herself in a situation she would rather not be in.

The two of them were cousins but, because both sets of their parents had been working, they had spent most school holidays together, staying at their mutual grandparents’ house, and had grown up more like brother and sister. And Joy had spent most of that time getting Casey out of the scrapes he had managed to get himself into, or ones he had embroiled her in. Life without Casey, she had decided long ago, would be a lot lonelier, but it would also be a lot more trouble-free. And she sensed one of Casey’s impending scrapes…!

‘Why can’t you go on the holiday, Casey?’ She looked at him searchingly, not fooled for a moment by the innocent expression on his boyishly handsome face. With his dark curly hair, laughing blue eyes and rakishly handsome face, Casey had a look of uncomplicated innocence—but Joy knew, from experience, that it was just a look. ‘And to the show and supper afterwards? I would have thought it would have been just up your street to go and wallow in the lap of luxury, to go out for the evening with some beautifully ravishing television star, on Valentine’s night, of all nights. You—’

“The television star is Danny Eames, Joy,’ Casey cut in drily.

‘Danny Eames?’ she repeated frowningly. ‘But Danny Eames is a—’

‘Man,’ her cousin finished impatiently. ‘Of course he’s a man!’

A rather attractive one too, as Joy recalled. He was the actor appearing regularly in a popular detective programme on Friday evenings. ‘How on earth did you manage to win an evening out with a man?’ Joy decided she had either missed something in the earlier conversation, or Casey was keeping something back. And, knowing Casey as she did, she thought she knew which one it was!

He looked more than a little irritated now. ‘Well, if you must know…’

‘Oh, I think I must.’ She nodded derisively.

‘I entered a competition in one of those women’s magazines Lisa is always reading. And I won the damned thing!’ he added disgustedly.

Lisa was Casey’s steady girlfriend of the last year, if the word ‘steady’ could be applied to the stormy relationship they both seemed to enjoy.

‘I told her the damned things were all a con, that no one ever actually won anything in them,’ Casey continued disgruntledly as Joy stared at him.

‘And then you won.’ Joy’s lips twiched as she made an effort to hold back her humour. ‘First prize!’

‘Yes!’ he bit out impatiently. ‘And the people who ran the competition assumed Casey Simms was a woman—’

‘Well, they would—when the prize was Valentine’s night out with a handsome hunk!’ Joy knew she wasn’t going to be able to contain her laughter much longer—the humour of the situation was just too much.

He glared at her. ‘Don’t rub it in!’

She chewed on her top lip to stop the throaty laughter from erupting. ‘And just where are you and Danny supposed to be having this intimate dinner for two?’ Casey had really done it this time. But then, he had never done anything by halves.

‘In London,’ he snapped. ‘But we aren’t—you and he are!’ Casey looked at her challengingly.

She shook her head, repressed laughter making her eyes appear an even deeper green than usual. ‘I don’t think so.’

‘I can’t go!’ her cousin wailed.

‘Well, obviously not,’ Joy conceded, openly smiling now. ‘But Lisa could—’

‘No way!’ Casey instantly protested. ‘Do you think I’m stupid enough to let my girlfriend go out for the evening, especially that evening, with a lech like Danny Eames is reputed to be?’

Joy raised auburn brows, brows much darker than the long fiery-coloured hair she wore confined when at work, but preferred to leave loose about her shoulders at other times. ‘But it’s all right to send your favourite cousin out for the evening with him?’ she derided drily.

‘My only cousin,’ he corrected distractedly. ‘And my favourite one, of course,’ he added at her openly mocking expression. ‘I’m going to look so stupid if it ever comes out that I entered a competition in a women’s magazine—’

‘Maybe you should have thought of that earlier,’ she pointed out reasonably.

‘Joy, you know I would do the same for you if the positions were reversed,’ he persisted wheedlingly.

‘The answer is no, Casey,’ she told him dismissively.

‘Oh, please, Joy.’ He looked at her pleadingly.

Joy knew that look only too well—and the trouble it could get her into. ‘I said no, Casey,’ she repeated firmly.

Which was why she was here now, pretending to be Casey Simms for the week!

The hotel was as luxurious as Casey had promised it would be, and she had enjoyed the little she had seen of London since her arrival yesterday. But Danny Eames, far from being the interesting individual Casey had persuaded her he would be, was one of the most boring people, male or female, she had ever met in her life!

Lisa had lent her a dress to wear for the evening; in fact, Lisa had provided most of the clothes Joy had brought with her, after looking through Joy’s wardrobe and declaring its contents were much too librarianish. Joy’s protests of that being exactly what she was had been met with little sympathy, let alone understanding. And with Casey as well as Lisa to argue against, each of them as incorrigible as the other, Joy hadn’t stood a chance, and had arrived at the hotel yesterday with two suitcases full of Lisa’s expensively flamboyant clothing. As a model, Lisa often managed to buy her clothes cheaper than she might otherwise have done, and she usually chose the clothes that would most get her noticed.

As with the dress Joy was wearing this evening. It was unlike anything she had ever worn, or dreamt of wearing, in her life before. She had to admit that the green shimmering material made her eyes appear even deeper in colour, and her hair glowed fieryred as it fell loosely to just below her shoulders. But the dress also clung to the slender length of her body, finishing abruptly several inches above her shapely knees. But of the evening gowns Lisa had provided, this was the least revealing—the black one was backless, and the red one virtually frontless!

But she needn’t have worried about the allure of the dress; Danny Eames was far too interested in himself to notice what Joy was or wasn’t wearing. She also had the feeling that he might have enjoyed the company of the real Casey Simms more than hers.

As it was, he hadn’t stopped talking about himself since the representative of the magazine had introduced the two of them earlier this evening in the foyer of Joy’s hotel. The only time he had given his ego a rest was when they were actually watching the show, and even then he had wasted little time, after they had left their seats during the interval, before beginning to criticise the actors in the show, at the same time making it plain he could do a better job of all the parts, male and female, than his fellow actors and actresses were doing.

And supper after the show, for all it was in one of the most famous restaurants in London—Joy recognised several of the diners as actors, or faces she had seen in the daily newspapers—was turning out to be just as much of a nightmare.

Joy was going to strangle Casey when she got home at the weekend. This had to be the longest evening of her life!

And what made it worse was that several of the other women dining here were actually eyeing her enviously for her companion of the evening; as far as Joy was concerned, any one of them was welcome to the egotistical idiot!

‘…and so I told the director that if that was all he wanted to go and hire himself a performing monkey…’

Joy faded in, and as quickly faded out again of the one-sided conversation at their table, deciding as she did so that the director had probably known when he was talking to Danny Eames that he had hired a performing monkey. Although a monkey would probably have had more intelligence than Danny Eames seemed to have. Joy pitied any woman who had to spend more than one evening in this man’s company. Thank God she wasn’t one of them. He—

‘…to introduce me to your dining companion, Danny?’

Joy had been in danger of falling asleep with her eyes open, but the different timbre of voice, this one huskily deep, broke her out of her inner torment, and she turned curiously in the direction of that voice. Any diversion had to be welcome.

And this wasn’t just ‘any diversion’, she quickly realised, instantly recognising the man who now stood so confidently beside their table as the man who played the part of Danny’s boss in the detective programme: Marcus Ballantyne.

This man was actually the real star of the television series Danny Eames seemed to feel would fall apart without the aid of his so-brilliant acting. And Joy should know—she had been listening to just how wonderful Danny thought he was for the last four hours.

But Marcus Ballantyne really was a true talent, star of numerous television series over the last fifteen years. He had made his big break into Hollywood ten years ago, returning there periodically to star in films that were inevitably box-office hits. But he remained true to his native England, preferring to make his home there, occasionally making appearances on the West End stage in plays destined to be a success simply because Marcus Ballantyne deemed them worthy of his time and talent.

But the last thing Joy needed was another egomaniac to join them and bore her to sleep!

Joy knew Marcus Ballantyne was in his late thirties—older than Danny Eames by at least ten years. He was well over six feet tall, with slightly overlong dark hair, and deceptively sleepy blue eyes, a deep, dark blue that, as Joy looked up at him, she could see contained a sharp intelligence. Maybe she wasn’t going to be bored, after all…

Danny had risen hurriedly to his feet at the sound of the other man’s voice, some of that overbearing self-confidence leaving him as he shook the older man by the hand, evidence that even he bowed to the older man’s superior talent. ‘Marcus,’ he greeted, a little too enthusiastically. ‘I didn’t know you came to places like this.’ He looked pointedly around the noisy restaurant.

‘I’m not in my dotage, Danny,’ the other man drawled derisively.

The younger man’s cheeks were slightly flushed. ‘No, of course not. I just…well, I didn’t think… It’s good to see you, Marcus,’ Danny finished lamely.

‘Is it?’ the older man drawled, dark brows raised mockingly.

Joy looked more intently at Marcus Ballantyne; he obviously shared her opinion that Danny was an idiot, and he made no attempt to hide his contempt for the younger man. Which posed the question: why had he bothered to come over to their table at all if he felt that way about Danny?

As he turned that probing blue gaze in her direction, Joy suddenly knew exactly why.

There was no mistaking the admiration in that gaze as it swept over her appraisingly. Joy felt a quiver of awareness down her spine as she seemed unable to break that searching blue gaze.

This had never happened to her before. She had never been instantly physically aware of a man in her life before. But there was something about the hard lines of Marcus Ballantyne’s face that was mesmerising; the lean length of his body in the casually expensive clothes exuded a physical magnetism that Joy couldn’t help being completely aware of.

She shifted uncomfortably as he continued to look at her. This was ridiculous! She wasn’t some star-struck teenager, but a grown woman of twenty-seven, and certainly not the type to be impressed by a man whose face was famous enough for him to be recognised wherever he went. Hadn’t she instantly recognised him herself, although she rarely watched television or went to the cinema?

She turned away abruptly as she realised how stupidly she was behaving, and looked at Danny instead. But even that was a mistake, because he just looked more young and affected than ever compared with the hard assurance of the other man.

‘Introduce us, Danny,’ Marcus Ballantyne instructed the younger man, his gaze not leaving Joy’s slightly flushed face.

Danny looked more flustered than ever. ‘Er—this is Casey Simms—er—Joy. She prefers to be called Joy,’ he introduced awkwardly, his bravado completely gone in the face of the other man’s quiet authority.

‘Why?’ Marcus Ballantyne addressed the question to Joy, totally ignoring the younger man now as he pulled out the chair beside her and sat down without being invited to do so.

Which brought him all the closer to her, and Joy could feel her hands shaking slightly as she clasped them together beneath the table. This man was something else, unlike anyone she had ever met before. No wonder he was so much in demand both on television and the big screen; he was magnetic. And Joy could feel herself being drawn unresistingly towards him. Unresisting because she simply couldn’t break the spell of that steady gaze.

‘Why Joy?’ he repeated huskily, leaning forward slightly, effectively cutting Danny out of their conversation as the younger man resumed his seat opposite Joy.

She moistened lips that felt suddenly dry. ‘Casey is…It’s an old family name,’ she told him truthfully, wondering if that slightly breathless voice could really be her own. But she knew it was, knew she had never felt such emotional confusion, knew her usual capable efficiency was deserting her. ‘I prefer my other name—Joy.’ She had refused pointblank to spend the whole evening with Danny Eames answering to her cousin’s name, and had decided before meeting him that she would use her own name. He hadn’t been concerned about her name anyway—in fact she was surprised he could even remember it to introduce her to the other man!

‘So do I,’ Marcus Ballantyne told her huskily. ‘Much more…feminine.’ His tone implied that that was exactly what he thought she was.

Joy swallowed hard, knowing she was—subtly— being flirted with. Ridiculous. She was a librarian from a small rural town in the south of England—

‘And what do you do, Joy?’ That cobalt-blue gaze continued to hold hers.

It was almost as if by doing so he had been able to read her thoughts. He obviously knew she wasn’t an actress, otherwise their paths would probably have crossed before. But, somehow, just baldly stating that she worked in her local library didn’t seem appropriate—

‘Joy lives out of town.’ Danny Eames was the one to answer the other man. ‘She’s an old… friend.’

She gave him a startled look at this explanation. What on earth…?

Marcus Ballantyne relaxed back in his chair now, watching her from beneath brooding brows. ‘She doesn’t look that old to me,’ he finally drawled.

Danny gave a nervously dismissive laugh at the other man’s obvious sarcasm. ‘You know what I mean, Marcus.’

Joy knew what he was implying too—and she didn’t like it one little bit! Why was Danny lying to the other man? What possible reason could he have for giving the impression that they had once been—even if they weren’t now—involved?

‘Yes,’ the older man acknowledged gratingly, still looking at Joy. ‘But that still doesn’t tell me—’

‘Marcus, I think your group of friends are trying to let you know they’re leaving,’ Danny cut in, looking pointedly over to the table where the other man had been sitting with a dozen or so people until a few minutes ago.

A rather attractive blonde, probably in her early twenties, was looking pointedly over at Marcus Ballantyne now as the rest of the group prepared to leave. Joy vaguely recognised her as an actress who had briefly appeared in a long-running soap, although the woman’s name escaped her. Not that it was important what her name was; she was obviously expecting Marcus Ballantyne to rejoin them.

He studied Joy for several more long, lingering seconds before turning uninterestedly towards the other table, his mouth twisting with irritation as he saw the young blonde looking so longingly towards him. ‘Excuse me for a few minutes.’ He stood up in one fluid movement. ‘But I’ll be back,’ he added, looking down at Joy again before turning to walk purposefully across the room to his friends.

Joy wasted no time, once he had gone, in turning accusingly to Danny. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’ she demanded indignantly. ‘I had never even met you before this evening!’ And she never intended spending another evening in his company either. The things she did for Casey! The trouble was, her cousin would think the whole thing was hilarious. Ha ha!

Danny looked uncomfortable now, completely unlike the egotistical idiot he had been all evening. ‘I’m really sorry about that, Joy,’ he said sheepishly. ‘I just…Well, I didn’t want Marcus to know… Well…’

It was all suddenly clear to Joy: Danny didn’t want the other man to know dinner with him had been first prize in a Valentine competition! It would be funny in any other circumstances, and if she hadn’t just spent such an awful evening in his company. As it was—

‘Please, Joy.’ Danny put his hand cajolingly over hers. ‘Not Marcus, of all people!’

She could understand why he didn’t want the older man to know he had been a prize in a competition, and was sure Marcus Ballantyne would never have put himself in such a position. Obviously it had fed Danny’s ego, but it wasn’t something he wanted a man like Marcus Ballantyne to know about!

‘I’ll tell you what,’ Danny continued encouragingly. ‘I’ll take you out to dinner tomorrow evening too if you’ll just—’

‘No! Er—no,’ she refused, less desperately than her initial outburst. “That really won’t be necessary, Danny.’ The mere thought of it was enough to send her into a panic. Another evening spent in this man’s company? Never! Besides, if the truth were known, she didn’t particularly want Marcus Ballantyne to think that she had entered a competition, obviously aimed at lovesick, impressionable women, to win an evening out with Danny Eames. ‘I understand completely, Danny,’ she soothed. ‘And your secret is safe with me.’ And her own!

‘Thanks, Joy,’ he said with obvious gratitude. ‘I owe you one.’

‘What secret?’ drawled the familiar voice of Marcus Ballantyne as he resumed his seat next to Joy, looking at the two of them curiously with that compelling blue gaze.

Joy couldn’t help her glance in the direction of his group of laughing friends as they prepared to leave, the pretty blonde in particular, who was still looking longingly in Marcus Ballantyne’s direction as one of the other men in the group encouraged her to leave.

When Joy turned back, it was to find Marcus Ballantyne watching her with dark brows raised in questioning amusement. She could feel the heat in her cheeks at his mockery of her interest in his group of friends, expecially the young actress. Damn him!

‘I hope we haven’t dragged you away from your friends,’ Joy told him stiltedly.

‘Not in the least,’ he dismissed easily, very relaxed in his chair, completely in command of the situation. ‘I’m not interrupting anything, am I?’ Again he looked at the two of them questioningly.

‘Of course not,’ Danny answered him a little too enthusiastically, obviously quite pleased that the other man had chosen to join them, but at the same time a little wary of his reasons for wanting to do so. ‘I told you, Joy and I are just friends.’

And that ‘friend’ knew, even if Danny didn’t, exactly why Marcus Ballantyne had decided to join the two of them. Ridiculous, she thought, not for the first time this evening. A man like Marcus Ballantyne, who could have his pick of beautiful women, couldn’t possibly be seriously interested in her. Well, of course, he wasn’t seriously interested. It was the fact that he found her attractive at all that was so unnerving. And he so obviously did. He certainly wasn’t remaining with them because he enjoyed Danny’s company; the slight contempt he had for the younger man was more than apparent to Joy.

‘Why don’t the two of you join our party?’ Marcus Ballantyne invited smoothly. ‘They’re going on somewhere to dance,’ he encouraged huskily.

Danny looked at her. ‘Joy?’

She knew what Casey would say. Have fun. Enjoy yourself. Flirt a little.

But that would be so completely out of charcter. Until six months ago she had been in a steady relationship for almost four years with Gerald, a man in his late forties who took life very seriously, his career in particular. And their parting had not been an amicable one.

Even more reason to relax and enjoy herself now, Casey would have told her. Had told her before she came away. ‘Forget your life back here for a week, Joy,’ he had instructed firmly. ‘Be someone else for a while, do things you wouldn’t normally do. That shouldn’t be too difficult,’ he had added disgustedly, because she never did anything except go to work, go home to spend the evening reading, and then get up the next morning and go to work again. She hadn’t even taken a day off in the last six months. She had worked six days a week, concentrating on her household chores on Sundays.

Casey had made her life sound so boring, soso flat and mundane. And when she had sat and thought about it she had realised that it was, that she was a twenty-seven-year-old woman who was allowing life just to pass her by, who was becoming staid and old-maidish. That was the reason she had finally allowed herself to be pressured into coming away for this week…

But surely this was going to the other extreme, going off to God knew where for the rest of the evening, with a group of actors and actresses who had nothing in common with her normal everyday life? Absolutely nothing in common with that boring, flat, mundane life…

‘Yes, I would like that.’ She felt a surge of exhilaration, and her cheeks flushed as she voiced her impulsive decision out loud. ‘I would like that very much,’ she repeated firmly, that exhilaration turning to a feeling of fluttering excitement in the pit of her stomach as she saw the look of satisfaction on Marcus Ballantyne’s face at her agreement to his suggestion that they go dancing.

CHAPTER TWO

‘YOUR friend seems happy enough,’ Marcus drawled beside her.

Joy glanced over uninterestedly to where Danny was now dancing enthusiastically with the pouting blonde.

She still wasn’t quite sure what she was doing here herself, in a nightclub she had only ever read about in the newspapers before this evening, but Marcus Ballantyne was right: Danny was certainly enjoying himself with the young actress.

They had all piled into taxis when they had left the restaurant earlier, and somehow Joy had found herself squashed between the door of the taxi and Marcus Ballantyne. And he hadn’t left her side since their arrival at the club, the slightly proprietorial air he had adopted towards her warning off any of the other men in the group. Including Danny, who, because of the older man’s apparent interest in her, had suddenly started looking at her with new eyes himself. But after making such a point of saying they were simply old friends, he hadn’t been able to make too much of a claim on her himself, finally going off to chat and flirt with the lovely blonde who had been so peeved with Marcus Ballantyne earlier. Joy was sure that initially the two of them had only got together because they were so piqued with her and Marcus, but they now seemed to be genuinely enjoying each other’s company.

‘Yes,’ she acknowledged huskily, taking a sip of her wine, unable to look at Marcus.

God, she felt uncomfortable in his company. She didn’t even know what to talk to him about!

‘Relax, Joy.’ As he spoke Marcus moved one lean hand to cover hers as it rested on her thigh, causing Joy to look up at him with startled green eyes. ‘I’m quite harmless, you know.’ He gave her that teasing grin that was so famous from television and film screens.

Anyone less harmless than this man she had yet to meet! He gave the impression of a leashed tiger, bound only by a thin veneer of civilisation. And it was questionable whether that veneer always remained in place. Somehow Joy doubted it…

Marcus leaned forward slightly, bringing his face dangerously close to hers, his fingers becoming entwined with hers now—long, lean fingers that made her hand look tiny in comparison. But everything about this man was big—in fact, he was larger than life. Joy felt lost.

‘I don’t bite—at least, not on a first date,’ he told her huskily, dark blue eyes alight with humour.

Completely lost! She shouldn’t have listened to Casey’s voice inside her head earlier. She wasn’t having fun and enjoying herself, was too nervous in this man’s company to do that. Gerald had been old beyond his years, very serious, and so her experience with men was limited—very limited when it came to men like Marcus Ballantyne. She certainly couldn’t forget who she was for this one evening, and flirt with this man. She was totally out of her depth.

She swallowed hard. ‘We aren’t on a date,’ she dismissed, as lightly as she could, hoping she sounded more self-assured than she felt.

‘That can easily be remedied.’ He shrugged broad shoulders. ‘Have dinner with me tomorrow evening.’ His blue gaze easily held hers. ‘I promise not to bite then, either.’

Have dinner with this man? Just the two of them out for an evening together? He had to be joking!

‘Unless Danny was exaggerating things slightly when he told me earlier that your friendship with him was a thing of the past?’ Marcus peristed at her lack of reply. ‘After all, it is Valentine’s night— perhaps he was trying to revive things between the two of you?’

Danny hadn’t been exaggerating about there being nothing intimate between them; he had been completely fabricating the whole thing. But without revealing her own part in the competition prize, she couldn’t exactly tell Marcus that. And the more time she spent in Marcus Ballantyne’s company, the less she wanted him to know about that.

‘There is absolutely nothing like that between Danny and myself,’ she said with complete certainty, knowing there never would be. She still thought he was the biggest bore she had ever met in her life, and if she ever had to spend another evening in his company she would fall asleep! ‘Danny was alone this evening, and I happened to be in town, so dinner seemed like a good idea,’ she dismissed easily.

‘Good,’ Marcus accepted with satisfaction. ‘In that case, think about dinner tomorrow. And in the meantime,’ he added, before she could make a reply, ‘would you like to dance?’

Joy very much doubted that this man very often had to leave a woman to think about going out with him! It was…Dance? He wanted her to get up and dance with him? To this? The loud rock music had stopped several minutes ago to be replaced by slow love-songs—in fact Danny and the young blonde had been entwined in each other’s arms for some time. And now Marcus had suggested that the two of them—!

He gave a throaty chuckle at her side. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone quite like you before, Joy,’ he told her with a smile, as she turned to look at him enquiringly. ‘Believe me, you’re very refreshing!’ he assured her at her doubtful look.

Gauche and unsophisticated was what he really meant, Joy was sure. And who could blame him for thinking that? She was behaving like some inexperienced teenager rather than the mature woman she was supposed to be. The man was suggesting they dance together, not asking her to go to bed with him!

‘I would love to dance.’ She stood up determinedly once she had made the announcement, her forced confidence shaken a little as she realised that Marcus Ballantyne’s fingers were still entwined with hers, his hand tightening its grasp slightly as he stood up beside her, moving forward to make a path for them to the crowded dance-floor.

Joy had no choice but to go along with him; the clasp of his hand was deceptively light, but she had no doubt that if she seemed in any danger of leaving his side, for whatever reason, his fingers would tighten quite painfully.

Her heart was racing; a pulse seemed to be hammering in her throat as Marcus took her in his arms.

He was so much taller and bigger than she was, she realised, as he gathered her close against him, the top of her head resting under his chin, strong arms about her waist as he moulded her body against his.

Joy could barely breathe—and it had little to do with the fact that her face was buried against the hardness of his chest. It had everything to do with the fact that she was completely aware of this man, from the hard leanness of his body to the tantalising smell of the aftershave he wore.

He moved rhythmically to the beat of the music, his body seductive against hers, the crush of the dance-space making it impossible for them to move off the spot. When he had pulled her into his arms Joy hadn’t known what to do with her hands, but as Marcus put his arms possessively about her narrow waist she had perforce to place her hands on his broad shoulders. And she had never felt so uncomfortable in her life, her efforts to hold herself apart from Marcus quickly dealt with by him as he moulded her into the hard contours of his body with the firmness of his hands against her lower back. In fact, those hands were a little too familiar against the curve of the base of her spine!

‘I said relax, Joy.’ He lowered his head to murmur close to her ear, his breath warm and caressing against her skin. ‘We’re only dancing.’

It might only be dancing to him, but it felt more like making love to music to her! Maybe he was used to this sort of intimacy, but she certainly wasn’t; there didn’t seem to be a part of their bodies that wasn’t touching; even their legs were brushing together as they could only move from side to side to the music. So much for behaving like the mature woman she was supposed to be; her legs felt as if they were going to buckle beneath her if this battering to her senses continued.

‘Have fun. Enjoy yourself. Flirt a little!’ This was going from one extreme to the other. From merely existing for the last six months—going to work, then home, then back to work again—she had suddenly been thrust into a situation, with this wildly attractive man, that she just didn’t know how to deal with. She wasn’t just out of her depth, she was sinking! It reminded her of a poem she had loved to read when she was younger, she thought slightly hysterically, the poem a cry for help from someone everyone thought was in control but who was actually anything but. Her own self-assured control had completely deserted her.

‘Would you like to sit down again?’ Marcus offered huskily. ‘I’ve been wanting to hold you in my arms like this ever since I glanced across the restaurant earlier and saw you sitting there like a shimmering green flame among the dross,’ he continued softly. ‘But we can sit down if that’s what you would prefer to…God, Joy, what’s a woman like you doing with a man like Danny Eames?’ He suddenly sounded angry.

Joy gasped at this attack. ‘I—’

“The man is at best an idiot,’ Marcus rasped disparagingly. ‘At worst—’

‘I don’t really think it’s any of your business what I’m doing with Danny,’ Joy cut in, having recovered slightly from the unexpected attack. ‘And what do you mean,’ she added defensively, ‘a woman like me?’

‘You’re everything that Danny isn’t.’ Marcus shook his head. ‘You have style—something he will never have. Why are you wasting your time on a man like him?’

Joy looked up at him angrily. ‘When there’s someone like you around, you mean?’ she scorned.

‘We weren’t talking about me—’

‘Weren’t we?’ she interrupted again.

‘Maybe we were,’ he accepted slowly. ‘Joy, you’re worth a thousand of Danny Eames, don’t you realise that?’ he said almost angrily.

‘You don’t even know me,’ she dismissed with derision.

‘But I would like to,’ he told her huskily. ‘Very much so. You’re beautiful, Joy. So beautiful. You…I’m going to kiss you!’ he warned gruffly, seconds before his head lowered and his lips claimed hers.

Joy’s hands tightened instinctively on his shoulders. The two of them had given up any impression of dancing now, and Joy was aware of nothing but the gentle exploration of Marcus’s mouth against hers.

And the caress of those lips was so very, very gentle, softly exploring, the tip of his tongue lightly probing, his arms tightening about her waist now, the sound of Joy’s heart thundering in her ears.

‘Er—sorry to interrupt you two,’ a tentative voice intruded. ‘But we’re moving on, and wondering if you’re coming with us?’

She turned dazedly to look at Danny as Marcus reluctantly broke their kiss to raise his head and acknowledge the other man’s presence with a glowering glare. What was she doing? Having fun? Enjoying herself? Flirting a little? A little! If Danny hadn’t interrupted them when he had, God knew what would have happened, right here on the dance-floor!

‘No,’ Marcus answered the other man harshly, his arm tight about Joy’s waist as he anchored her to his side. ‘I’m taking Joy home,’ he announced arrogantly.

‘She’s staying at a hotel,’ Danny answered him a little dazedly, looking questioningly at Joy with raised brows.

As well he might. She had started this evening with one man, and was now apparently leaving with another one. Apparently, because she had no intention of letting Marcus take her back to her hotel. There were limits to having fun, enjoying herself, flirting a little, and she knew that she had more than reached them with Marcus. The man was dangerous—to her peace of mind, her sensibilities, to her control over a situation that was fast spiralling out of control. She hadn’t even been aware of where she was a moment ago, had been completely under Marcus’s sensuous spell.

‘Thank you for the offer, Marcus.’ She moved determinedly out of the curve of his restraining arm as she spoke. ‘But Danny will take me back to my hotel.’ She looked challengingly at the younger man, knowing his instinct was to bow to the superior arrogance of Marcus Ballantyne. But the challenge of her gaze obviously conveyed the message it was meant to, and Danny began to shift uncomfortably at the thought of opposing the older man. Danny owed her one, and they both knew it. ‘My mother always told me it’s bad manners to leave at the end of the evening with anyone other than the person you arrived with.’ She had no idea whether or not her mother had ever made such a statement, but it was reasonable that she might have done.

‘We arrived here as a group,’ Marcus drawled mockingly, his lazily relaxed stance belied by the hard glitter in dark blue eyes; he wasn’t happy at the thought of being thwarted in this way.

Well, Joy wasn’t happy either at the thought of his taking her back to her hotel; she seemed to have absolutely no will-power when it came to resisting this man. And a brief fling with an actor, even one as attractive as Marcus Ballantyne, was not on the agenda for this week. And she had a feeling that if he came back to her hotel with her, after the intensity of the kisses they had already shared, taking her to bed was exactly what he would expect.

She could already hear Casey’s incredulity at her not allowing that to happen, Lisa’s disbelief in Joy’s reluctance to become involved, however fleetingly, with a man like Marcus Ballantyne. Well, she wasn’t even going to tell them about it!

‘Danny and I still have a lot of gossip to catch up on.’ Joy put her arm pointedly in the crook of Danny’s. ‘Don’t we, Danny?’ She looked up to give him a glowing smile, a warning light in her eyes as she did so.

‘Oh, we do,’ he readily agreed, nodding his head with enthusiasm, obviously warned. ‘Sorry, Marcus.’ He gave the other man a slightly apprehensive look, obviously fearing retribution. Joy was in no doubt that Marcus could be cutting if he chose to be.

‘I have a feeling Dee won’t be too happy if you disappear with Joy.’ Marcus looked pointedly at the young blonde actress, who was no longer just poutingly upset at the thought of losing the second man of the evening to Joy, but obviously blazingly angry.

If Dee was lucky she would have Marcus back in her company but, whatever happened, Joy was leaving with Danny and not Marcus. ‘It was nice to meet you.’ Joy put her hand out to Marcus in a formal parting. ‘But Danny and I really do have to go now.’

‘Well, if you and Danny have to go now, I suppose you have to go,’ he accepted in a hard voice, totally ignoring her outstretched hand to bend his head and lightly brush his lips against hers. ‘I’ll be in touch,’ he told her, so softly that only Joy could hear him.

As only she had been meant to hear him! What did he mean, he would be in touch? In what way would he be in touch? He couldn’t—

‘Let’s go,’ Danny told her firmly, giving Dee a regretful smile before guiding Joy out of the nightclub.

Joy didn’t even start to breathe again until they were outside, and then she drew in a ragged, muchneeded gasp of air to her starved lungs. God, what a disaster, what an absolute, absolute disaster! She wished she had never come away for this week, wished she had stayed in the safety of her own little world. It was a sure fact that she didn’t belong in this one!

‘You haven’t heard the last of him, you know.’ Danny spoke softly as they travelled by taxi to her hotel.

She hadn’t wanted him to put into words what she thought she already knew. ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ she snapped defensively, not even attempting to pretend she didn’t know who he was talking about—that would have been absurd.

‘I know him of old, Joy.’ Danny shook his head in the half-light of the taxi. ‘The only reason he wasn’t more insistent just now was so that there wasn’t a scene. But, above everything else, Marcus can be determined when he wants something.’

Had he been determined when he had kissed her in the middle of that crowded nightclub? Joy didn’t know whether it was determination or arrogance, but she did know that Gerald would never have behaved in such an exhibitionist way. Gerald…She hated to think what he would make of all the events of this evening and, more precisely, her own part in them!

Not that it was any of Gerald’s business what she did any more. It had stopped being so six months ago, when he had chosen to break off their relationship and announce that he was going out with a woman of his own age. Joy had been stunned by his decision; after almost four years together she had believed Gerald would ask her to marry him in the near future.

But instead Gerald had begun to date a widow of forty-five, a woman with grown-up children, leaving Joy to wonder why things had gone wrong between them. But that hadn’t been the worst part. Gerald was actually in charge of the library where she worked, and so Joy was also left with the humiliation of going in to work every day with the people who had known of their past relationship, and the reason it had ended so abruptly.

And Joy hadn’t thought about that for weeks. Well—days. Yes, it had been days, she realised with some surprise, the preparations for this week away having taken over her life for some time before she actually came to London. So why was she thinking about that past disappointment now? She knew it had to be because of the sharp contrast between Gerald and Marcus Ballantyne; two men more unalike she had yet to meet…

‘Marcus can be a very determined man, Joy,’ Danny repeated, at her continued lack of reply to his statement.

She thought she already knew that, knew that Marcus had meant it when he said he would be in touch. But he had to find her first. And there was only one way he could do that…‘I want you to promise me you won’t tell him which hotel I’m staying at, Danny.’ She looked at him determinedly, the light of battle in sparkling green eyes.

All Danny’s bravado had left him since the advent of Marcus Ballantyne into their evening, and he had the look of a hunted man on his face now. He drew in a ragged breath. ‘If he asks me—’

‘You aren’t going to tell him,’ Joy cut in firmly. ‘Look, Danny, he’s only playing games, and I’m not into game-playing,’ she added almost angrily. She wasn’t about to provide a fleeting amusement for anyone, not after what she had already been through with one man in her life.

Danny gave her a speculatively sideways glance. ‘You looked as if you were enjoying yourself a few minutes ago.’

When Marcus had been kissing her. There was no denying she had been completely under his spell then, hadn’t cared herself where they were or who could see them. Which was another reason she didn’t want to see him again; she had to return to her normal life when this week was over, and she didn’t want that to be any more difficult than it already promised to be.

‘So did you,’ she snapped back, relieved to see they were back at her hotel. ‘Don’t bother to come in, Danny; you may as well let the taxi take you on to wherever you want to go.’ Probably back to the nightclub, to the beautiful Dee. Where, hopefully, Marcus wouldn’t still be and see the other man’s return. On second thoughts, bearing in mind her warning to Danny, which she knew he had perfectly understood, maybe Danny wouldn’t go back to the nightclub…

As she expected, Danny made no move to get out of the taxi to open the door for her, a disgruntled look on his face. ‘I’ll see you at four o’clock tomorrow afternoon for the photographs,’ he muttered sulkily.

Joy came to an abrupt halt in climbing out of the taxi. ‘What photographs?’ She looked at him sharply.

He shrugged, still glowering. ‘It’s part of the competition prize, Joy,’ he explained badtemperedly, obviously wishing he had stayed well away from the whole venture. ‘Publicity for the magazine. Photographs of me with the competition winner,’ he continued as she still looked at him blankly.

Casey had forgotten to mention any photographs! Well, over her dead body was she posing for photographs with this man so that all the magazine readers could drool over them curiously; every one of those women was welcome to Danny Eames as far as she was concerned.

‘See you, Danny,’ she told him non-committally, having no intention of being anywhere near the hotel tomorrow afternoon. Photographs, indeed! God, how humiliating.

‘We have two messages for you, Miss Simms,’ the receptionist of the hotel told her brightly when she collected her key.

Her heart leapt; surely Marcus hadn’t found her already? No, of course he hadn’t, she told herself self-derisively. There was no way he could find out which hotel she was staying at. And she was sure she could trust Danny not to tell the other man; after all, neither of them wanted Marcus to know of the competition.

‘A message from a photographer about tomorrow afternoon,’ the receptionist told her lightly, only raising her eyebrows slightly as Joy took the piece of paper with that message on and screwed it up into a hall. ‘And the other is that a Mr Simms rang at about one-fifteen,’ she smiled. ‘He said he would ring again.’

‘When?’ Joy asked abruptly, wanting a word with Casey herself.

‘He didn’t specify a time,’ the young receptionist told her apologetically.

Joy just bet he hadn’t. Damn Casey. And she didn’t need two guesses as to why he had telephoned at all; he wanted to know how she had got on with her date with Danny Eames. And as she hadn’t even been back in the hotel an hour ago, when he had rung, his imagination was probably working overtime. Damn Casey! Damn Danny Eames! And, most of all, damn Marcus Ballantyne!

Because for a brief time tonight her control had slipped completely—and he had been the cause of it…

The insistent knocking finally broke through the deep realms of her sleep-muddled brain, Joy coming awake with a resistant groan. Who could be calling on her at this time of the morning…? Oh, God— a glance at the illuminated bedside clock had shown her that it was only just still morning, the clock reading eleven-fifty. Of course, it had taken her hours to fall asleep after her eventful evening, and it had already been late when she had got in, but—

The loud knocking sounded again on the door of her suite. Perhaps there was a fire? Perhaps… It was no good sitting here wondering, she had to put on her dressing-gown and go and see who it was. Only it wasn’t her dressing-gown at all, she realised with a groan as she pulled on the grey silk robe that Lisa had lent her, along with everything else she was to wear this week. Oh, well, she was sure the staff in this hotel were used to seeing people dressed—or undressed—in all sorts of clothes.

She stumbled out of the bedroom into the lounge, noticing as she did so that the dress she had worn the night before was draped across one of the armchairs. She had undressed on her way to the bedroom when she got in last night, had just wanted to fall into bed when she got there. And then she had lain awake for hours…

Danny Eames stood outside her door, the disgruntled look on his face from the night before still there. What did he want now? It was far too early for—

‘I knew you weren’t going to be ready,’ he said impatiently, shouldering his way into the room. ‘You aren’t even dressed!’ he added disgustedly.

Joy frowned at him, completely unconcerned by the fact that she wasn’t dressed; he shouldn’t even be here, let alone criticising her appearance. ‘What do you want, Danny?’ she asked wearily.

‘We’re all waiting for you downstairs,’ he told her irritably. ‘We have been for the last fifteen minutes.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘Twenty, now!’

She shook her head. ‘You’ve lost me, Danny.’ She sighed her own impatience; she was hardly in a mood to deal with riddles. ‘Who is waiting for me? And why?’ Not something else to do with this competiton prize that she had no idea about?

‘Don’t tell me you didn’t get the message about the photographic session being brought forward to this morning, because Reception said they gave it to you when you got in last night!’ He scowled. ‘Some of us have had to change filming schedules to get here on time, and you couldn’t even be bothered to get out of bed!’

She ignored the last accusation, concentrating on what he had said about the photographic session, remembering the message from the magazine that had been waiting for her last night—a message she had screwed up to throw in the bin when she got into her suite. She had assumed it was just a reminder for her to be there, not an adjustment of the time.

‘I…forgot to read the message,’ she admitted with a self-conscious grimace.

‘Forgot!’ Blue eyes blazed Danny’s displeasure. ‘Oh, never mind,’ he dismissed with an impatient shake of his head. ‘Just get dressed now and—’ He broke off as there was another knock on the door. ‘I told them I would come and find you.’ He glared in the direction of the suite door. ‘Just in case you…weren’t alone,’ he added with a shrug, seeming to take in her completely dishevelled appearance for the first time. ‘You are alone, aren’t you?’ He gave a questioning look in the direction of the bedroom.

Joy had been having trouble following his conversation—the unaccustomed wine the night before, followed by her inability to get to sleep, and then falling into a deep sleep and being woken so suddenly, were not conducive to clear thinking. But the meaning of his last comment was unmistakable.

‘Of course I’m alone,’ she snapped.

Danny gave a mocking nod of his head. ‘I wasn’t sure whether Marcus might have paid you a latenight call.’

She knew exactly what he had thought, had seen the way he had taken in her appearance, noted her dress from the night before thrown over the arm of the chair—and she didn’t in the least like the assumption he had made.

‘I should get that if I were you.’ Danny nodded in the direction of the door as the knock sounded yet again, throwing himself down into an armchair to watch her with some amusement. ‘You have some explaining to do,’ he added with satisfaction.

She had intended explaining nothing, hadn’t intended even to be here. She cursed herself for not reading that message from the magazine the night before; if she had, she would have made sure she was far away from the hotel this morning.

Her politely enquiring smile as she opened the door was frozen on her lips as she saw who her second visitor of the morning was. Marcus Ballantyne.

And as he looked past her into the room, to where Danny sat sprawled in an armchair, his gaze slowly returning to take in her own dishevelled appearance, it was obvious by the sudden hardening of that cobalt-blue gaze that he no longer believed either of their claims of an old friendship between them, but that he thought it was still very new!

CHAPTER THREE

‘SO, DANNY,’ Marcus drawled coldly, brushing past Joy as he strode uninvited into her hotel suite. The arm brushing against her caused Joy to take a step back, an action he acknowledged by the raising of one dark brow before he turned his attention back to the younger man. ‘This is the reason you’re too sick to be at work today!’ he taunted with hard scepticism.

Joy looked at Danny too, and noted the way his face suffused with colour at the sight of Marcus, the way he sat up guiltily. And no wonder! So much for the noble claim of changing work schedules to be here this morning; Danny had simply called in sick. And from the look on his face, if he hadn’t felt sick before he certainly did now.

Danny swallowed hard, his face pale now. ‘Joy and I…still had some catching up to do,’ he blurted out awkwardly.

Joy stared at him open-mouthed as he said exactly the thing to make the situation seem worse— and definitely different from what it actually was. Danny wasn’t just a bore, he was stupid too.

‘So I see,’ Marcus rasped harshly, his expression glacial now. ‘And did it occur to you, Danny—’ the words were bitten out like darts flying between the two men, each one making its target ‘—that you have inconvenienced a lot of other people today because of your supposed sickness? Including myself,’ he added softly. Too softly.

Danny gave a nervously dismissive smile. ‘You’re exaggerating, Marcus—’

‘Am I?’ the other man returned evenly, the calmness of his exterior belied by the blazing anger in his eyes. ‘I don’t think so, Danny,’ he bit out tautly. ‘As you must have known, we had to reschedule all this morning’s scenes. And all because you, apparently, couldn’t be bothered to get out of bed with your old friend Joy!’

She gasped her indignation at the accusation. How dared he? Who did he think he…? She bit her bottom lip in agitation as Marcus bent down to pick up the shimmering green dress she had been wearing the night before, looking at it scathingly before holding it out to her. Joy took the dress unthinkingly, clasping it to her, well aware herself now of exactly how damning this situation looked.

But she didn’t owe anyone an explanation—even if what Marcus was thinking about Danny and herself had been true. She could understand Marcus being annoyed with Danny for not being at work this morning, but on a personal basis it was none of his business whether Danny had spent the night here with her or not. And that was the only side of this that concerened her; Danny would have to get himself out of the other scrape he had got himself into.

‘I’m going to get dressed,’ she abruptly told no one in particular, looking at neither man as she walked towards the bedroom, hoping—she knew futilely—that both men would have left by the time she returned.

‘That might be a good idea,’ Marcus said coldly behind her.

Her back stiffened at the insult she could hear in his voice, and she quickly made good her escape into the bedroom. And it did feel like an escape; the air in the other room had been electric with angry disapproval. As had Marcus himself. She had no idea why he was here, how he had found her hotel, but she knew all three of them wished he hadn’t.

God, what a disaster! It was stupid of Danny to have told such a lie. Even more stupid of him to be caught out in it in such a way. And even more stupid than anything else to involve her in the lie in the way he had! Oh, she was involved, as far as being the winner of the competition went, but the impression he had given Marcus had been of something completely different between them.

And after all that she had said to Marcus the night before about Danny and her just being old friends. Maybe sometimes old friends did go to bed together, but she and Danny weren’t old anything; after the mess he had just made of things, she knew they never would be either. How on earth either of them was going to be able to talk themselves out of this one, she just didn’t know.

She felt decidedly more comfortable once she had dressed in close-fitting denims with a black jumper neatly tucked in at her narrow waist, brushed her hair loosely about her shoulders, and applied a light make-up to add some colour to her pale cheeks. She had a feeling she was going to need all the confidence she could muster to get through the next few minutes. Surely that was all it would take for Marcus to tell the two of them exactly what he thought of them—if he hadn’t already—and be on his way.

She took a deep breath before reaching to turn the door-handle to go back into the lounge. Both men hadn’t gone—but Danny had, damn him!

Marcus stood alone in the room. He had made no move to take off the thick short coat that he wore over a dark blue shirt and fitted denims, despite the heat of the hotel suite. Good, perhaps that meant he wasn’t staying long either. Just long enough to tell her what he thought of her part in Danny’s absence this morning, probably!

He looked at her from beneath dark scowling brows, his eyes darkly glacial, his mouth a thin, grim line. Joy shifted uncomfortably under that probing gaze.

‘How did you find my hotel?’ she asked, once she could stand the lengthy silence no longer.

He remained unmoving. ‘That was the easy part,’ he bit out.

In other words, that was for him to know and for her only to guess. And the only explanation she could think of was that he had tried all the main hotels until he had found the one she was staying at. It was just like him not to have announced his imminent arrival too; if he had, the previous scene with Danny would never have happened.

She interlaced her hands in front of her thighs, mainly as a way of hiding the fact that they were shaking slightly, but also because she just didn’t know what to do with them; she felt so uncomfortable facing Marcus across the room like this. He wasn’t at all the man she had spent some of the previous evening with—the danger that emanated from him now was certainly not of the sensual kind.

‘Er—where’s Danny?’ she said, really more for something to say than from any real interest in where the other man had gone. But she could see by the increased tightness of Marcus’s jaw that it had been the wrong thing to say.

‘He had to leave. Obviously,’ Marcus added harshly.

Joy didn’t see that there was anything obvious about it; Danny should have stayed here and helped her out of this situation. But she should have known that he wouldn’t; he was terrified of the older man.

‘Oh.’ She nodded lightly, turning away.

‘But I have no doubt he’ll be back,’ Marcus added contemptuously.

Neither did Joy, if only to see what conversation had taken place between herself and Marcus once he had left—and just how he had fitted into it. Well, he should have stayed if he wanted to know that, not left her at this man’s mercy.

‘Why the lies, Joy?’ Marcus rasped harshly, causing Joy to look up at him in fresh alarm. ‘Are you married? Is that it? A married woman in London, away from hubby, out for a little fun with her actor-friend?’

He spoke so contemptuously, looked at her so disgustedly…! And by what right? she wanted to know, if all she had ever read about him was true.

‘Don’t judge everyone by your own standards!’ she snapped, green eyes sparkling with anger as she glared at him.

He became very still, eyes narrowed to steely slits. ‘Meaning?’ he prompted, in that dangerously soft voice she was quickly learning to be wary of.

But not at this moment. Who did he think he was, coming here throwing out accusations? He had kissed her himself last night, on a very brief acquaintance, so who was he to sit in judgement of what he thought she and Danny had done last night?

‘Meaning your affairs, with married as well as unmarried women, are legendary!’ she told him heatedly. She might not be interested in the gossip from his world, but it had become impossible over the years not to see his photograph in newspapers and magazines, each time with a different woman. And he had the nerve to sit in judgement of her and Danny!

This was ridiculous; she was allowing herself to be indignant about a supposed affair that she knew didn’t even exist. And the quicker she told him that, the sooner he would leave.

But before she could say anything he had crossed the room in two long strides, his hands reaching out to grasp her painfully by the tops of her arms. Joy was so stunned by the suddenness of his action that she could only stare up at him in open-mouthed surprise.

‘In that case,’ he ground out harshly, ‘it won’t matter if I add one more to my list, will it?’

Her? He—

There was no time for further thought as his mouth came down on hers with crushing intensity, Marcus showing her none of the gentleness of the night before as his mouth claimed hers bruisingly, his arms about her waist moulding the curves of her body roughly against his.

And if he had continued to kiss her in that contemptuous way, she would have been able to pull away from him and end it right then. But, filled with sudden anger as the kiss had begun, it just as suddenly gentled to sensuous intensity, and one of Marcus’s hands moved to cup her chin as he held her mouth captive beneath his and sipped from her lips, touching softly now, the tip of his tongue a moist caress to the warmth of her mouth.

Joy knew the same mindless pleasure as she had felt last night, couldn’t think, had no desire for anything but for Marcus to go on kissing her. Her arms moved up about his neck as she held him to her, her body bending into his with boneless need.

‘God, Joy! You’re beautiful. Beautiful!’ he murmured heatedly against her throat, his lips moist and hot, making her quiver with arousal. ‘And I want you,’ he added raggedly, raising his head to look down at her with intensely dark blue eyes, a flush on his hard cheeks.

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