Marriage On The Agenda
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Despite the fact that Mark had a roving eye himself, since she’d agreed to marry him he’d proved to be both jealous and possessive, hating her to so much as look at any other male.
Bearing that in mind, she was seeking a polite way to refuse when, noting her hesitation, the man by her side asked sardonically, ‘Scared that Longton won’t approve?’
So he knew who they both were.
‘Not at all,’ Loris denied crisply. ‘I…’ She broke off as Mark and his partner circled past, close as Siamese twins.
Catching her companion’s eyes, she saw the unspoken derision in their clear, green depths.
To hell with it! she thought with a spurt of anger. Why should she refuse? Mark had chosen to dance with someone else, and what was sauce for the gander…
She knew by now that if anyone failed to stand up to him he simply walked all over them and, though she hated any kind of discord, she had no intention of being a door-mat when they were married.
‘I’d love to dance with you,’ she finished firmly.
He smiled at her, a smile that lit his eyes and made little creases at each corner of his mouth. His teeth were excellent, white and healthy and gleaming.
She judged him to be around thirty years old and, wondering why such a relatively young, attractive man appeared to be here alone, she moved into his arms.
His hold light, but far from tentative, he steered her smoothly onto the floor. He was a good dancer, and they danced well together, their bodies fitting.
Mark, heavily built and well over six feet tall, dwarfed her slight five feet four inch frame, but this man was about six inches taller than herself, and her high heels brought their eyes almost on a level.
Meeting those brilliant eyes made her strangely breathless and, needing to say something, she remarked, ‘You’re aware that I’m engaged to Mark, so you must know who I am?’
‘I do indeed. You’re Loris Bergman.’
Something about the way he spoke made her say coolly, ‘As I don’t know your name, you have the advantage of me.’
‘I’m Jonathan Drummond.’ He volunteered no further information.
The name was unfamiliar. Though she was almost convinced they hadn’t, she felt compelled to ask, ‘Have we ever met before?’
‘If we had, I would have remembered,’ he replied.
‘So how do you know me?’ she asked curiously.
‘Who doesn’t?’
‘Most of the people here, I imagine.’
He shook his head. ‘I’m sure they all know the lucky woman who has one of the big bosses for a father and the other for a future husband.’
‘You sound as if you disapprove?’
‘It seems like an eminently suitable arrangement to keep all the money and power in the same family.’
‘Money and power have nothing to do with it.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes, really.’
‘Then why are you marrying Longton? Apart from the fact that he’s a divorc'e and much too old for you, he’s not a particularly nice character.’
‘Being a divorc'e isn’t a crime, and he’s only thirty-nine.’
‘I notice you haven’t defended his character.’
‘As that’s only your opinion, it didn’t seem necessary.’
‘Neither have you answered my question.’
‘We happen to love each other.’
At that moment Mark came into view. His partner’s arms were round his neck, and he was saying something in her ear.
‘He has a strange way of showing it.’
‘I’m afraid he’s angry with me for being late.’
‘Has he any right to be?’
‘Some, I suppose,’ she answered honestly.
In response to Jonathan Drummond’s raised brow, she briefly explained the circumstances.
Coolly, he said, ‘As Longton was pre-warned, I don’t see any justification for him behaving like a spoilt child. Do you?’
Challenged, without thinking how it might sound, she spoke the truth. ‘Not really. That’s why I’m dancing with you.’
‘I see. Tit for tat. I guess it was too much to hope that you actually wanted to.’
As he finished speaking the dance ended, leaving Mark and his partner standing close by.
As couples began to kiss, Jonathan Drummond waited quietly, making no move.
Mark glanced in Loris’s direction and, seeing that she was watching him, bent to kiss the blonde, who responded with enthusiasm.
Vexed by such deliberate provocation, Loris slid her palms beneath the lapels of her companion’s dinner jacket and raised her face invitingly.
For a moment he stood perfectly still, then, taking her wrists, he lifted her hands away. ‘I don’t care to be used,’ he said coldly.
‘I-I’m sorry, she stammered, feeling cheap and foolish. ‘I didn’t mean—’
‘Oh, I think you did. Goodnight, Miss Bergman.’
As she stood unhappily and watched him walk away, Isobel appeared by her side. ‘Your father and I are leaving now.’
Loris pulled herself together and, knowing how her mother loved social occasions, asked, ‘I thought the party went on until twelve?’
‘It does, but it’s almost eleven now, and with such heavy rain your father thought we should get started. Most of our guests came to Monkswood last night and are settled in, but one couple weren’t due to arrive until this evening.’
Fretfully, she added, ‘It’s all a bit of a mess. If I’d realised earlier that this company party coincided with our house party I’d have done something about it. But by the time I discovered the muddle over dates it was too late and I—’
‘Is Simon there?’ Loris tried to stop the flow.