Carole Mortimer Romance Collection. Carole Mortimer
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In fact, she looked after him a little longingly as the woman Barbara led him away towards the function-room, where he would no doubt be swallowed up completely by the family and friends he had there, forgetting completely the young receptionist who had been so forward with him. Actually, she had better hope that he did exactly that where she was concerned; she didn’t want to be sacked from this job just yet, and her manner towards him had hardly been professional!
Watching him now, so tall and impressive as he walked down the carpeted corridor at Barbara’s side, she couldn’t help but berate herself for not realising earlier that he had a presence, a self-confidence, that was an essential part of his make-up, had been inborn, in fact. But how could she have guessed he was Wolf Thornton? No one had ever mentioned what the other Thornton brother’s first name was. And she certainly wouldn’t have forgotten a name like Wolf if she had heard it before!
Suddenly he came to a halt, murmured something to the woman at his side, before turning and walking purposefully back towards the desk where Cyn still stood. She watched his progress towards her with increasingly widening eyes; oh, lord, what was he going to say to her now?
‘Will you have dinner with me tomorrow evening—Lucynda Smith?’ he added lightly after glancing at the name-badge on the lapel of the jacket the hotel had supplied as part of her uniform.
She swallowed hard, glancing past him towards the woman still standing in the corridor as she watched the two of them with narrowed green eyes, then hastily looked away again as she saw the venom in that glittering gaze, looking up at Wolf Thornton as if he had to have gone slightly mad—or she had; he hadn’t really just invited her out to dinner tomorrow night—had he...?
‘Cyn,’ she answered automatically, dazedly.
He grinned, showing even white teeth against his tanned skin—a tan he had acquired at the same time as the lovely Barbara had? Cyn couldn’t help wondering. Just who was the other woman? And what role did she have in Wolf’s life if he could walk away from her to invite Cyn out for the evening?
‘I didn’t have sin in mind on our first date.’ His eyes gleamed down at her with mocking humour. ‘Only dinner.’ He shrugged those broad shoulders. ‘But if you insist I’m sure I could—’
‘I meant my friends—people, call me Cyn. It’s short for Lucynda,’ she explained irritably as he still looked amused—at her expense! But who could really blame him? She was acting like a besotted teenager, not a responsible twenty-year-old.
‘Ah,’ his mouth twisted teasingly. ‘Well, Cyn,’ he drawled her name with deliberate intimacy, ‘will you have dinner with me tomorrow evening? Nothing so grand as this place, I’m afraid.’ He grimaced at their surroundings. ‘I can only suffer this particular brand of opulence every couple of months or so!’
Cyn wouldn’t have felt comfortable dining anywhere like this hotel herself. But she couldn’t have dinner anywhere with this man: he was her employer, for goodness’ sake, albeit in a non-participating capacity; she had heard that the second son of the Thornton family kept well away from the business side of things.
She shook her head. ‘I can’t, I’m afraid.’
‘Working,’ he nodded understandingly. ‘I could ask my brother to arrange for you to have the evening off,’ he said lightly, ‘but—’
‘Oh, no!’ Cyn gasped her dismay at the very suggestion. The last thing she wanted was for the head of the Thornton family to hear of her encounter with his brother!
‘—I won’t,’ Wolf finished mockingly. ‘I think the best thing to do is work out which evening you do have free, and arrange things from there, don’t you?’
Cyn looked up at him searchingly. He didn’t seem to be taunting her, and yet— Why on earth was he inviting out a little nonentity like her?
‘Do you like Chinese food?’ he added temptingly. ‘It’s my passion at the moment. If you would rather—’
‘I love Chinese food,’ Cyn told him hastily, very conscious of the growing impatience of the beautiful Barbara as she now stood in the corridor, tapping her elegantly-shod foot against the marble floor. ‘And as it happens I do have tomorrow evening off. But—’
‘Great! I’ll meet you outside here at seven-thirty tomorrow evening,’ he said economically, having glanced round to see that a man had now joined the lovely Barbara—a man Cyn recognised only too well as Alex Thornton himself! ‘I hate to eat late,’ Wolf told Cyn before striding off to join the other couple, not looking at her again as the three of them went off in the direction of the music.
Cyn stared after him dazedly. She had just been bulldozed, railroaded, bullied—in the nicest possible way!—into meeting Wolf Thornton for dinner tomorrow evening!
She should never have kept that date with him, should have realised getting to know him any better than she already had would only lead to heartache. Oh, heartache didn’t even begin to describe the pain she had suffered for daring to fall in love with Wolf Thornton!
* * *
Having dinner with Gerald Harcourt that evening was much less traumatic. Gerald was easy company, flirtatious without being pushy—perhaps because he didn’t usually have to be, Cyn thought a little indulgently; Gerald’s good looks and charm would normally make it all too easy for him to make conquests. Just not Cyn. Oh, she liked him well enough, and if he hadn’t been going to be Wolf’s father-in-law, she might even have kept on seeing him on a casual basis. But as he was going to be Wolf’s father-in-law...!
‘I’m not giving up on you,’ he told her warmly when she refused his second invitation for dinner. ‘I happen to think you could be the woman who changes my opinion about marriage.’
Cyn looked up at him reprovingly as they stood inside the tiny sitting-room of the small two-bedroomed cottage she had taken a lease on a couple of years ago in the countryside several miles outside Feltham itself, Gerald having driven her home after their meal. ‘Do many women fall for that line?’ she drawled derisively.
He grinned unabashedly. ‘Quite a few, actually,’ he acknowledged derisively.
She chuckled wryly. ‘Well, not me, Mr Harcourt,’ she told him firmly. ‘If anything I’m probably less kindly disposed towards marriage than you are,’ she added.
‘You see?’ Gerald still smiled, completely unperturbed. ‘We’re perfect for each other!’
Cyn chuckled softly, warmly returning his humour. ‘Forget it, Gerald,’ she drawled. ‘Maybe we can have dinner again another time, but for the moment I prefer to concentrate on your daughter’s wedding.’
He gave a grimace. ‘Reminding me I have a daughter old enough to be married puts me firmly in my place, doesn’t it?’