a week now!’
‘Are you here on business, Griffin?’ She deliberately chose to ignore what he considered his compliment—and the fact that he continued to call her Izzy when no one else ever did. The whole of her visit to this hotel was taking on a dream-like quality; he might as well become another part of it. And, actually, it was quite exciting to be someone other than Dora for a few hours in her life!
Not that there was anything particularly wrong with her life. She kept house for her father, and helped him in his bookshop throughout the week. It was just that the very fact of being called Izzy made her feel as if she were somehow different, no longer the shy, cautious little Dora. Or maybe it was as Griffin said: the charm of this country inn just seemed to take over…
He laughed softly. ‘This is my business, Izzy. I write travel reviews,’ he explained at her questioning look.
‘For Sunday supplements, things like that?’ She had never actually thought about the fact that the people who wrote those things had to actually stay in the places they wrote about. But of course they did. And Griffin was obviously one of the people who did that. They had travel books at the shop, of course, but not ones that involved visiting individual hotels and giving a rating on them.
‘Things like that,’ Griffin echoed dryly, with a mocking inclination of his head.
‘How interesting.’ She took a sip of her wine, finding it light and dry. Just the way she liked it…
Griffin burst out laughing, uncaring of the female heads that turned his way as he did so. ‘Take my advice, Izzy, and never take up acting—you’re lousy at it!’
‘But surely it is interesting?’ She hurriedly tried to rectify what he had obviously taken as an insult. This place, or being called Izzy, must be having a strange effect on her; she wasn’t usually so outspoken! ‘I’ve always wanted to travel,’ she added wistfully, knowing that while she worked for her father she probably never would, other than on business trips like this one. And she only made those because her father now felt he was too old for making such long drives himself.
When she was younger Dora had imagined she would perhaps take a year out after finishing school and before taking up a course at university, but her mother’s death, and the need for her at home, meant that that had never happened. And now, with her father and herself both working in the shop, they had necessarily to take separate holidays. Most of Dora’s friends were now either married or had moved away from the area, and it didn’t feel right, nor would it be as much fun, for her to travel on her own. And so her holidays were usually spent at home.
Although travelling for a living, while it might be fun to start with, must surely become boring after a while…
‘It can be interesting.’ Griffin shrugged. ‘Although my family keep asking me when I’m going to get a ‘‘proper’’ job!’
From what Griffin had said about his family, his mother in particular, Dora had the feeling he was quite happy to continue as he was—if it managed to annoy his family at the same time as providing him with a living!
Dora couldn’t imagine living with such tension between herself and the only living member of the family she had left: namely her father. She preferred life to run smoothly and comfortably, not to be in constant conflict with those around her. Griffin gave every impression of not giving a damn about who he upset!
Her mouth twisted wryly. ‘I’m sure they must be proud of you.’ After all, he must be quite good at what he did, otherwise he wouldn’t still be in employment.
‘And I’m damned sure they’re no such thing!’ he returned unconcernedly.
Dora took another sip of her wine. In fact, she seemed to sip rather a lot of wine during the next couple of hours as they enjoyed their meal, and Griffin ordered another bottle halfway through their main course.
Dora wasn’t sure it was exactly prudent to drink any more wine, but she wasn’t driving, and she really was quite enjoying herself. Griffin was genuinely interesting as he told her some of the funnier stories of his travels, and she didn’t want to refuse the wine and so put a dampener on their evening. Even Derry, as he wandered about the place, didn’t seem quite as big and frightening as he had earlier. In fact, he seemed to have decided he quite liked her, coming to lie on the carpeted floor at her feet.
‘Five feet nothing, and yet you seem to have some sort of power over rogue males,’ Griffin murmured thoughtfully.
Dora gave him a sharp look, searching for some sort of hidden meaning in his comment—or one that wasn’t so hidden! There was no doubting that Griffin was male, a fact that her racing pulse had been telling her all evening, and as for rogue—he was the most unorthodox man she had ever met! He had made no effort to dress for dinner, and was still wearing his denims. He’d swapped his black tee shirt for a green one, which seemed to darken the colour of his eyes, adding to their enigmatic depth. Those eyes combined with that over-long blond hair made him very much a ‘rogue male’ himself. But perhaps that wasn’t what he had meant…?
‘It was exactly what I meant, Izzy.’ He sat forward, his expression suddenly intense as he reached out and clasped one of her hands in his own. ‘Where the hell did you come from?’ he muttered grimly.
She swallowed hard. He was playing with her; he had to be. In fact, she had been wondering all evening why a man like him should choose to have dinner with someone as ordinary as herself. In the end she had decided he was having dinner with her because there was simply no one else here for him to have dinner with!
‘Hampshire, actually.’ She deliberately misunderstood him.
Oh, she was tempted, so very tempted—what woman wouldn’t be?—to go along with his flirtation, just once in her life to forget—
But, no! She was Isadora Baxter—Dora, who had never been involved in a serious relationship in her life—and she was not about to jump into a flirtatious fling now with a man she had only met for the first time this morning. A man who was the complete opposite of everything she had ever looked for in a man. She wanted someone sober, hardworking—a son-in-law that would at last make her father proud of her.
Her father loved her, she knew that he did, it was just that he’d always wanted a son, and having another child had been an impossibility after Dora was born. So it had always been Dora’s wish to give him the next best thing; a son-in-law he could be proud of. She knew he would be horrified at her attraction towards a man like Griffin Sinclair!
‘Would you like coffee now, or shall we wait until after our walk?’
Walk? What walk? She didn’t remember him mentioning the two of them going for a walk, let alone her own agreement to the idea. ‘I—’
‘It’s a beautiful evening, Dora,’ Griffin added encouragingly, standing up to pull back her chair for her.
Dora stood up. She was feeling too mellow—from drinking too much good wine, she freely admitted—to be bothered to argue the point. Besides, the night air might clear her head.
She shivered slightly as they got outside. ‘I thought you said it was a beautiful evening,’ she said ruefully.
‘Beautiful doesn’t necessarily mean warm!’ he chuckled. ‘Here.’ He took off his jacket and draped it about her shoulders, lightly grasping her arm as they walked across the forecourt and into the gardens beyond.
Dora
