The Groom's Revenge

‘From Westbury,’ Aidan responded, knowing very well that that was not what she had meant at all. ‘I’ve been staying there for a few days.’

‘But your car...?’

‘Oh, I left that at the bottom of the drive and walked up.’

‘I never saw it.’

Too late, she realised that she had given herself away. Now Aidan would know that she had been looking for signs of his presence, worried that he might be around.

‘I don’t suppose you did.’ His smile was slow and filled with a lazy mockery that told her he had caught her momentary lapse. The glint of dark amusement in his eyes brightened as he went on, ‘But then, of course, I didn’t exactly leave it in full view. You can’t be too careful these days, with so many thieves and joy-riders around.’

And he knew very well that if she had seen his car she would have turned around at once and stayed well away until the coast was clear.

‘And I didn’t want you forewarned and so forearmed as you were when I called the other day.’ Aidan confirmed her thoughts with such deadly accuracy that India’s mouth actually fell open in shock.

‘You knew?’

‘Of course I knew. You forget, my dear India, that I know this house of old, and that I am very well aware of just which bedroom is yours.’

The sensual deepening of his tone, together with the smokiness of his eyes, had hot colour rising in her cheeks at the thought of just how he knew. The memory of those nights, just over a year ago, when—with her parents and Gary away on a visit to relatives—she had invited Aidan to stay at the Grange came back to haunt her. Of course he knew where her room—her bed—was. They had hardly moved out of it, except to fetch food, for the whole of that week.

‘Now, let’s get these inside.’

Taking advantage of the shock that had loosened her grip on the bag, Aidan eased it from her before she could protest. Then he hoisted the other one from the interior of the boot with a lack of effort that forced a reluctant and secret admission of envious admiration from her. She was well aware of just how heavy that bag was, but Aidan’s one-handed ease made a nonsense of her own earlier struggle to get it into the car.

But then, of course, she was only too well aware of the strength of those sinewy, tightly muscled arms. She was also uncomfortably sensitive to the sensual impact of the way their impressive power was shown off to advantage by the short sleeves of the dark chocolate-coloured T-shirt he wore with oatmeal—coloured chinos.

The sun warmed the smoothly tanned skin, and her throat dried at the thought of the times she had felt those arms close around her in the throes of passion, holding her tight against the hard length of his body...

‘India?’

A touch of amusement in the deep voice brought hot colour rushing into her face. She couldn’t avoid the uncomfortable suspicion that Aidan had known just what thoughts had distracted her, the gleam in his eyes intensifying to a positively devilish light as his smile widened wickedly.

‘If we don’t get this food inside, some of the frozen stuff will start to defrost in this heat. And I want...’

‘My father isn’t at home!’

It was all she could think of to say. The idea of Aidan setting foot inside her home ever again sent such a shudder of revulsion down her spine that it was all she could do not to let him see it. As it was, she knew all the blood had drained from her face.

‘Oh, I know,’ Aidan returned easily. ‘That’s why I waited. But I have to admit to being surprised when you turned up. I expected you’d be at work all day.’

‘I don’t have a job.’

India’s voice was tight. When she had first met him she had had a position as a secretary to a local businessman, a job she had been only too glad to give up as soon as she had become engaged.

In the year since her wedding day she had only been able to find temporary work. And lately, just when she needed it most, even that uncertain source of income had dried up. Irrationally, she felt deeply resentful—as if Aidan had been responsible for that misfortune too.

‘Of course not.’ Something in his tone stung sharply. ‘So you’re free all day.’

‘Yes, but you—’

‘I have all the time in the world,’ Aidan put in, obviously anticipating India’s next attempt at persuading him to leave. tom on holiday.’

‘I didn’t know you took them,’ India cut in sharply. ‘I mean, you always were a workaholic when we were...’

‘When we were together?’ he completed smoothly when the realisation of just what she had been about to say froze her tongue. ‘Well, I think you’ll find that quite a few things have changed since then. Now, are you going to open this door or not?’

India devoutly wished that she could do no such thing. But Aidan’s determined stance and the obdurate look in his eyes brought her up hard against the realisation that, unless she was prepared to indulge in an undignified and probably totally pointless struggle for her shopping, she would either have to do as he said or risk losing all their food for the coming week.

One look at those long, tanned fingers clamped firmly around the handles of the bags decided her on the side of discretion rather than valour. With a sigh of resignation she accepted defeat and opened the door.

‘And besides, I didn’t just come to see your father.’

‘Well, don’t try to claim that you wanted to renew our friendship,’ India muttered ungraciously.

‘Friendship?’

One dark eyebrow quirked up in frank scepticism, and his voice held an undertone that she was beyond interpreting.

‘Don’t you think that’s something of an understatement for what we had?’

‘What we had was a lie from start to finish, and it’s over now, gone for good. Dead and buried.’

‘Is that a fact?’

‘It’s the only fact that I know!’ The only one she would ever admit to him, anyway.

All trace of his mocking humour seemed to have evaporated, leaving his face cold and distant, set into harshly brutal lines.

‘You’re surely not claiming that I broke your heart? That I did anything more than cause you some social embarrassment, and perhaps lower your expectations of the future a little?’

‘Broke my heart?’ India repeated, the need for control, to ensure that not even the tiniest suggestion of the truth seeped past her defences, making her tone coldly brittle. ‘No, I’m not claiming that at all.’

If she was to convince him of that fact, she had to do it once and for all.

‘In fact, as I said the other night, I really should be grateful to you. If you hadn’t walked out on me like that, I’d have been trapped in a very unwise and totally unsuitable marriage. Before very long—possibly even by now—we would both have realised our mistake, but would have had to go through the unpleasantness of a divorce in order to get out of it.’

‘Instead of which you find yourself free and available, and perfectly positioned to marry your darling Jim.’

As on the previous occasion, the total lack of any feeling in Aidan’s response brought a flaring pain so violent that she had to bite down hard on her lower lip.

All she could think of was the need to make sure there was no possibility he could doubt her sincerity, and so she pounced on the opening he had offered her. If he wanted to believe she and Jim were a couple, then who was she to stop him?

‘That’s right. Jim has—kept me company...’

She had been about to say ‘comforted me’, but caught herself just in time.

‘Ever since last year. We’ve become very close, and I think our families are expecting an announcement soon.’