Just For A Night. Miranda Lee

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Just For A Night - Miranda Lee Mills & Boon Modern

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that often nowadays.’ But she had an awful feeling they were about to pick up frequency.

      ‘Do you tell anyone about them?’

      ‘Lord, no!’

      ‘Not even your fiancé?’

      Marina hesitated a fraction.

      ‘That is an engagement ring on your finger, isn’t it?’

      ‘Yes.’ Marina had pretty well decided on the flight over that she’d blown the incident before leaving home way out of proportion, that of course she loved Shane and wanted to marry him. But her responses to the man standing before her had shaken that conviction anew. How could she possibly be in love with Shane and feel attracted to the earl of Winterborne?

      It’s possible because this is not love, pointed out her pragmatic side. It’s just…attraction. He’s a very attractive man.

      Marina found comfort in that thought. Yes, of course. Any woman would find this man attractive. He was the stuff female fantasies were made of. Handsome. Rich. Enigmatic. I’m not being disloyal to my feelings for Shane. I’m just being normal.

      ‘No,’ she answered levelly, after scooping in and letting out a steadying breath. ‘I definitely don’t tell Shane about them. He thinks I’m a very sensible, level-headed girl.’

      That disturbing demi-smile surfaced again. ‘And you’re not?’

      ‘I do try to be.’ But I don’t always succeed, she thought ruefully.

      ‘When is your wedding?’

      ‘In three weeks.’

      ‘Three weeks!’ He sounded shocked. And almost disbelieving. ‘You’ve come all this way…and your wedding is only three weeks away?’

      ‘I would have come,’ she said truthfully, ‘even if the wedding had been tomorrow. My mother died of cancer. I could not have lived with myself if I had not come. And now that I have…I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to doing this for your Rebecca. As soon as it can be arranged, actually. Tomorrow if you like. You did say the sooner the better in your letter, didn’t you?’

      He stopped and stared at her, then began shaking his head. ‘You are one special lady, Miss Marina Spencer. One very special lady. Tomorrow would be marvellous. But I thought you’d be too tired.’

      ‘What’s tired in the scheme of things? I can rest afterwards.’

      ‘And you will, too. As soon as you can leave the hospital, I’ll take you down to Winterborne Hall, where you can relax for a few days before flying home. It’s out in the country and quite beautiful at this time of year.’

      ‘But…’ A host of terrible thoughts rushed into her head which had nothing to do with relaxing. Marina tried to think of these new fantasies as just normal, but their explicit nature was very perturbing. ‘No, I’m sorry. I really can’t accept. For one thing I should be getting home to Shane. Besides, I… I wouldn’t like to impose on Lady Winterborne like that.’

      He simply had to have a wife, a man such as this. Please God, let him have a wife, Marina prayed. I would never think thoughts like this about a married man. I know I wouldn’t.

      ‘There is no Lady Winterborne,’ he informed her coolly, and something inside her fluttered uncontrollably. ‘But there are a dozen guest bedrooms just dying to be used. And plenty of staff to see to your every whim. What’s a few days?’ he added temptingly, his eyes searching hers. ‘Your fiancé surely won’t expect you to jump on a plane straight out of hospital?’

      ‘I…I guess not. But I wouldn’t like to put you to—’

      ‘I insist,’ he broke in brusquely. ‘I will not take no for an answer.’

      Marina swallowed. It was the wrong thing for him to say to her at that moment in time.

      An image filled her mind, of her lying on a magnificent four-poster bed in one of those undoubtedly huge and plushly elegant guest bedrooms…

      It was night, but there were candles casting an intimate glow through the room. Her red hair was spread out against a mountain of pillows, gleaming gold against pristine white. Her nightgown was virginal white as well, but made of satin and lace, and it hid little. She was reading when he came into the room, dressed in a rich purple robe. His penetrating blue eyes clashed with her own startled green ones. He walked arrogantly to the edge of the bed and shrugged out of the robe. He was naked. He climbed onto the bed and pulled the curtains so the world was shut out and darkness enveloped them. The book was taken from her suddenly trembling fingers. She felt a hand sliding around her neck, and her mouth being slowly lifted.

      ‘I will not take no for an answer,’ he whispered against her lips…

      Marina’s glazed eyes slowly cleared to find the main star of her shockingly life-like fantasy staring at her with unconcealed concern.

      ‘What is it? Are you not feeling well?’

      Marina felt decidedly shaky, for such was the power of her imaginings.

      ‘I…I was feeling a little faint there for a moment. But I’m all right now.’ She scooped in a deep breath and did her best to still her wildly hammering heart.

      ‘You had me worried. I thought I might have to carry you as well as the suitcase.’

      For a split second Marina contemplated organising a faint.

      ‘Do you think you can make it outside?’ he asked, worry on his handsome face. ‘It’s not far.’

      ‘Yes, of course,’ she said briskly, disgusted with herself for this ongoing and quite uncharacteristic weakness. She had to get a hold of herself and her head once and for all. This would just not do!

      ‘Lead on, My Lord,’ she said firmly. ‘I’ll follow.’

      He frowned. ‘I thought you were going to call me James.’

      ‘I know, but somehow it doesn’t feel right.’

      He looked slightly annoyed. ‘Surely I’m not that intimidating?’

      ‘Well, actually, yes, you are, Lord Winterborne.’

      In more ways than one.

      ‘But I would prefer you to call me James.’

      ‘Sorry, Your Lordship. No can do.’ This unfortunate attraction might be one-sided, but Marina still felt it only sensible to keep him at a distance. Calling him James was just too intimate for her peace of mind.

      His glare fell just short of scowl. ‘You really have a mind of your own, don’t you?’

      ‘Well, why not?’ she said in a challenging tone. ‘Don’t English women?’

      He laughed, but didn’t answer her, she noted. After one last shake of his head, he stalked on ahead with her suitcase, leaving her to follow as she’d said she would.

      CHAPTER

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