Accidental Engagement (13 page)

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Authors: Cally Green

BOOK: Accidental Engagement
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‘There’s a stepladder in the garage, but I don’t suppose it occurred to you to use anything so mundane?’ he asked with a wry smile, crossing the room towards her.

‘I don’t need it,’ she laughed. ‘I’ve just got to get the last hook - Oh!’ She let out a cry as, reaching too far, her foot slipped. She clutched at the curtain rail in an attempt to stop herself from falling, but succeeded only in grasping the pelmet rail which protruded a good few inches fr
o
m the wall. It was far too flimsy to hold her weight and she fell, her momentary panic giving way to warmer sensations as Mark caught her effortlessly in his arms. But the sudden, unexpected impact knocked him backwards and the two of them toppled, laughing, into the armchair.

‘This is no laughing matter!’ said Mark, his dark eyes crinkled with mirth, as he wrapped his arms around Anna, who had ended up in his lap.

Anna, throwing off the yards of curtain fabric which had draped themselves around her, said, between giggles, ‘I agree.’

‘You could have hurt yourself.’ The laughter died on his lips as his eyes roved over her face; that beautiful, elfin face he had fallen in love with the moment he had first set eyes on her.

‘But I didn’t,’ she said, her own laughter dying in the face of the tension that had sprung up between them. She was suddenly very aware of her body, and aware of the fact that nothing separated her from Mark except the flimsiest of robes. She felt his body harden and her heart skipped a beat. Her pupils dilated and her lips parted.

It was all the provocation he needed. Taking her face in his hands he looked deep into her eyes, all else forgotten in the intensity of his feelings.

Anna turned her mouth towards him and saw the passion ignite his eyes. She waited, breathless, for the touch of his lips. And when it came it was far sweeter than anything she had ever known. His hands moulded themselves to her shoulders and then slid the silky bath robe down her arms, releasing them to wind themselves round his neck. His hands trailed down her back, and she shivered in anticipation as they approached her sensitive breasts. When he touched her there she felt her whole body awakening and knew that this time
there would be no turning back.

So this is love
, she thought as the bath robe fell from her completely, aware that what was happening was more than purely physical; that it was the culmination of all the tender feelings that had been whirling round inside her ever since she had woken after the accident to discover that she was engaged to Mark. But it was her last conscious thought, as she became lost in a sea of new and exhilarating sensations.

The chair could no longer contain them and they tumbled onto the floor. His hands moved down over her, awakening her to wonderful new joys and desires. Instinctively she began to stroke him, awed by the firmness of his masculine body, which lifted her onto a cloud of desire more intoxicating that anything she had ever known. His muscles hardened beneath her fingers and she found herself craving a union with him, a joining of body, mind and soul. He craved it too and, looked down into her eyes with a mixture of tenderness and desire. She felt a sense of completeness, of oneness, that transcended all previous experience as he joined himself with her, and then she was lost in a cascade of physical bliss.

It was a moment that existed outside
time, a moment of total rapture,
before the feeling slowly ebbed away, leaving her on the far side of the experience, happy and complete.

She lay quietly in Mark’s arms, knowing that he had found their lovemaking as fulfilling as she had done. She nuzzled her head into his shoulder. He responded to her loving gesture, stroking her hair and dropping soft kisses onto the top of her head.

There was no room in his thoughts for guilt that he had given in to his desires and made love to her without first straightening out their impossible situation: there was room in him, at that moment, only for the tenderest emotions.

‘I don’t believe we did that,’ said Anna, when the drowsiness she had felt following lovemaking had passed. ‘We made love in the sitting room, without even drawing the curtains!’

Smiling, Mark picked up one end of the curtain which lay nearby on the floor. ‘How could we? You’d just pulled them down!’

Anna giggled, and nestled further into his arms. ‘It’s a good thing the house isn’t overlooked!’

‘Why
were
you dressed in nothing but a bath robe?’ he asked her curiously.

‘Once I’d put the curtains up I was going to take a shower.’

‘I like the sound of that.’ He threw her a wicked smile. ‘What do you say to us having a shower together?’

She laughed. Standing up and stretching, her beautiful body arousing his passion all over again, she threw him a wicked smile of her own. ‘Why not?’

With a laugh she ran out of the room and he chased her, catching her as they passed through the door of the bedroom. The bed was an open invitation. Scooping her up in his arms he carried her over to it, and made love to her all over again.

‘Will we ever get that shower?’ she asked him teasingly, as they lay together on top of the covers.

He propped himself up on one elbow and looked down at her tenderly. ‘Of course,’ he said, trailing one finger sensuously over her beautiful stomach. ‘But not just yet.’

 

‘What did you want to talk to me about?’

It was later that afternoon and they were sitting in the conservatory, with the rain drumming on the roof.
The weather had changed. The clear blue skies of the previous week had gone, to be replaced by heavy clouds.

‘Mmm? Oh, that.’ Mark walked over to the window and stood looking out. ‘Nothing.’

Nothing. He put his hand to the back of his neck and rubbed it in a characteristic gesture. Nothing! Only that he had wanted to know whether she was genuine or a fake, and that instead of confronting her openly as he had planned to do he had made love to her, giving way to feelings that went far deeper than anything he had ever known. And that, in the process, he had turned a terrible situation into an impossible one. If she was a knowing impostor then he had played right into her hands
.
B
ut if, as he strongly suspected, she was innocent, then he had done something far worse. He had betrayed her, and jeopardised any chance they might have of a future together.

And it was cutting him up inside.

He had known her for little more than a week, but the forced intimacy of their
confused situation had thrown them together. Although he was aware that unusual situations could make people believe they felt more for each other than they really did, he was mature enough to know that what he felt for Anna was based on solid foundations and was not just a passing phase.

And that her feelings for him were real.

Which made it even harder to face up to the fact that he had just made everything a whole lot worse. Because, now that he had made love to her, how could he tell her that they were not engaged?

‘Nothing?’ She sounded surprised.

‘Nothing.’ His eyes were haunted, but he managed a smile. ‘We’re due at
the
Kettering
’s at eight,’ he said. ‘Isn’t it about time you went up to change?’

 

Anna dressed with unusual care. She had a
little black dress she was just dying to wear, and she wanted to make sure she looked just right.

She took the dress lovingly out of the wardrobe. It was the sort of dress she had always dreamt about. Simple and well cut, it reeked of class. She slipped out of her skirt and blouse and, after washing and changing into a new set of deliciously frivolous underwear, she stepped into the dress. It went on like a glove. She reach round behind her and, after a brief struggle, managed to fasten the zip. The dress, low cut without being indecent, flattered her slim figure, and its long, tight-fitting lacy sleeves
disguised
the bruises on her arms. Having arranged her hair, she sprayed on some Yves Saint Laurent
Rive Gauche
pe
rfume – a gift from Mark – and
went downstairs.

‘Will I do?’ she asked.

Mark, dressed in a white tuxedo with black trousers, gave a seductive smile. His eyes told her all she needed to know. ‘You look beautiful,’ he said. ‘Here. A little something to go with the dress.’ He pulled a long, slim box out of his pocket. Opening it up, he took out a string of lustrous pearls.

‘Mark! It’s too much!’

‘Let me be the judge of that,’ he said with a smile. ‘Turn round.’

She did as he asked and he fastened them lovingly round her neck, bending to kiss the soft white skin that had been exposed by her piled-up hair.

‘Mmmm,’ she murmured. ‘You’d better stop now, or we’ll never get to the party!’

He laughed, and picked up his car keys.

Anna put on the wrap which went with the dress and picked up her evening bag. As they went out of the door she caught sight of herself in one of the mirrors, and she could hardly believe that the woman reflected in it was really her. With
her hair up she looked older,
more confident. She straightened up, pushing back her shoulders. The little waif who had crashed at the gates seemed a million miles away.

‘Ready?’ asked Mark.

‘Yes.’

‘Then let’s go.’

 

Music was pouring out of the
Kettering
’s house as they drove up. Light flooded from the windows, and the sound of numerous conversations rose and fell like the night-call of some fabulous animal. The drive was already cluttered with cars, each one more expensive than the last. BMWs vied for space with Jaguars and Aston Martins, and the odd Rolls Royce could also be seen. Mark found a space for the Porsche, and together they went in.

‘Anna! How lovely to see you! You look fabulous!’ Mrs Kettering was
welcoming, setting Anna at her ease.

‘Mark, Anna,’ Mr Kettering greeted them both.

Having greeted their hosts in return, Anna and Mark moved through into the living room, where double doors into the drawing-room had been thrown open to create one large space. A jazz band was in full swing at one end, providing a background of music above which the sound of many conversations rose.

Anna felt a moment of nervousness, before a familiar face greeted her: Alex Newton, one of Mark’s old friends, whom she had already met at Serena’s. From then on she didn’t notice the passage of time. She and Mark were much sought after, being the newly engaged couple, and everyone was in raptures over the ring.

The food and drink was sensational - though Anna discovered that she didn’t like caviar and much preferred the smoked salmon, which was served in wafer thin slices
-
and the white asparagus, which was wrapped in pastry rolls with a piquant cheese sauce.

Inevitably, they were separated, but Anna’s confidence was high and she was happy to mingle, feeling that she was, after all, able to belong to Mark’s world.

So confident was she that she didn’t need to avoid Serena, who made a bee line for her towards
twelve o’clock
. Mark had been persuaded into the billiard room for a game with his host, but Anna felt that nothing Serena could say or do could upset her. Whatever Serena’s designs on Mark, she had not been able to manoeuvre him into proposing to her. It was Anna who wore his ring.

‘How lovely to see you here,’ said Serena. She was dressed in a slinky
sequinned sheath dress, which was cut so low as to leave almost nothing to the imagination. Her hair was immaculately coiffured, and her long nails were red.

‘It’s nice to be here,’ said Anna. She felt a momentary apprehension but a touch of her ring reassured her.

‘May I look?’

Anna, despite her confidence, was feeling increasingly uncomfortable, but nevertheless she held out her hand for Serena to see her ring.

‘It is lovely,’ said Serena. There was something smug about her, and Anna felt the hairs on her arms beginning to rise. ‘And when is the wedding going to be?’

‘We haven’t made any definite plans.’ Thankfully, Anna heard that her voice was steady.

‘It’s a good thing, really, isn’t it, Annabelle? Or should I call you Annalise?’

Anna felt as though Serena had thrown cold water over her.
Annalise
. The name was terribly familiar. She felt a sudden frisson of panic, like the panic she had experienced when she had looked through her music. Annalise.
Für Elise
.
For Elise
. That was why the music had frightened her. It had reminded her of her real name. Not Annabelle, but Annalise. With Annalise being shortened, not to Anna, but to Lisa.

 

Mark, just leaving the billiard room, saw Anna talking to Serena. There was a l
ook of triumph on Serena’s face,
but Anna was swaying. She looked like she was going to faint.

Striding across the crowded room he was just in time to see her control herself and run out into the hall.

‘What did you say to her?’ he demanded, grabbing Serena by the shoulders.

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