The Society Groom. Mary Lyons
good luck to him! she told herself firmly. She simply wasn’t interested in him one way or another. Although, if she was going to be strictly honest with herself, she really hadn’t cared for the sight of that young blonde starlet—regularly featured in some of the more downmarket, glossy magazines—who’d been all over Dominic like a rash while they’d enjoyed a smoochy dance, late in the evening.
And then, soon after midnight, the bride and groom were being waved off to their bridal suite. Although it was another hour before most of the young guests decided to call it a day, leaving the very tired but happy parents of the bride and groom to also seek their beds.
Well—that’s another job well done, Olivia told herself as she shepherded the last stragglers to the door, leaving them in the capable hands of the uniformed doorman in his top hat, either to order taxis or see them to their own vehicles.
Collecting her own hat from the ladies’ cloakroom, and thanking the manager on duty for all the help and expertise of his staff, she at last felt able to make her own way home.
Unfortunately, although there was normally no problem in finding a taxi in Brook Street, the mass exodus of guests had obviously depleted the usual number of vehicles normally to be found outside the hotel. Standing outside on the street, stamping her feet to keep warm, Olivia found herself regretting that she hadn’t, in fact, realised that there might be a problem and sensibly parked her own car around the corner earlier in the day.
‘It’s funny how there never seems to be a taxi when you want one, isn’t it, miss?’ the doorman said with a grin, stepping out into the street and looking up and down the road. ‘However, I’m sure there’ll be a taxi along in a minute.’
‘I hope so,’ she muttered, pulling her jacket tightly about her cold figure. ‘At least it isn’t raining,’ she added, her teeth chattering as a blast of icy wind swept down the street.
‘You waiting for a taxi, lady?’
‘Yes, I am...’ she muttered, her eyes widening as she looked up to see a large blue Range Rover drawn up before her shivering figure.
‘You’d better hurry up and jump in.’ Dominic grinned at her through the open driver’s window. ‘Unless, of course, you don’t mind freezing to death out there!’
‘Well...’ Olivia glanced up and down the deserted street, but there was clearly no sight of a taxi. ‘Oh, all right,’ she agreed with a helpless shrug as she went around to the passenger door. ‘But you don’t know where I live. It might not be on your way home.’
‘I expect I’ll manage to find the way—to wherever it is.’ Dominic grinned again. Then, as she still hesitated, he told her roughly not to be such a fool. ‘You could be waiting out here for ages,’ he pointed out. ‘Still, if you don’t mind catching pneumonia that’s your problem, not mine!’
‘Thanks!’ she grumbled, before quickly deciding that he was quite right. There was no sight of any other form of transport, and the thought of having to stand outside the hotel, freezing to death in this weather, was more than she could face.
‘I live in Holland Park,’ she said, hitching up her skirt and climbing up into the high vehicle. ‘I hope that’s not too much out of your way? Are you planning to drive back down to Kent tonight?’ she asked breathlessly, not at all sure that it was sensible to accept a lift from Dominic, but not seeing that she had any alternative.
‘No, I’ve got a small pad in Chelsea which I and my sisters use when we have to stay overnight in London,’ he told her, putting the car in gear and driving off down the street.
With very little traffic around at that time of night, it should have been a quick and easy journey home. But as he drove them up Park Lane and around Marble Arch, towards the Bayswater Road, she began to find the atmosphere within the large vehicle becoming increasingly claustrophobic.
There was absolutely no reason for her to be feeling quite so tense and apprehensive—not to say distinctly nervous. Nevertheless, she was finding it difficult to combat the strangely insidious, intimate atmosphere within the close confines of the vehicle. Even after tearing her gaze away from the sight of his strong hands gripping the wheel, and closing her eyes as she leaned back against the headrest, all her senses appeared to be disturbingly alive, acutely conscious of the scent of his cologne, and the slight movements of the tall, powerful body seated so closely to her own.
‘I think you’d better direct me from here on,’ Dominic said quietly as they sped through Notting Hill Gate and entered Holland Park Avenue.
However, just as she was telling him to take the next left turning into Holland Park, she was surprised to find their way barred by bollards with flashing lights and two police vehicles parked across the entrance of the mews.
‘What the heck... ?’ she muttered as a policeman approached and Dominic pressed a button to lower his window.
‘Sorry, sir—we’ve got a slight problem here,’ the man told him. ‘It seems that there’s a burst water main, and—’
‘Oh—not again!’ Olivia groaned.
‘Yes, I’m afraid so, miss.’ The policeman shrugged. ‘Someone from the Fire Brigade told me that there’s often a problem here in Holland Park Avenue. Although I understand the mains are due to be replaced in the near future.’
‘That’ll be the day,’ she grumbled, fed up to the back teeth with the aged water pipes which had caused so much trouble for such a long time.
‘How long will it take before it’s mended?’ Dominic enquired.
The other man shrugged. ‘I’m told there’s no access to either end of the mews for the next four hours at least. And I shouldn’t be at all surprised if it doesn’t take a lot longer than that,’ he added gloomily.
‘OK. Thanks,’ Dominic said, closing the window and quickly putting the car into reverse before speeding off back down Holland Park Avenue.
‘What are you doing? Where do you think you’re going? ’ she cried, feeling stunned by the speed of events, and desperately trying to work out where she was going to spend the night.
‘I’ve got a spare bedroom, so it makes sense for you to stay the night in my house,’ he told her. ‘Unless, of course, you’d prefer that I take you to a hotel?’
Olivia turned to glare at him in the darkness. ‘Oh, yes—that’s a great idea!’ she grumbled sarcastically. ‘First of all I’ve got to find a hotel that’s still open at this time of night. And even if I do they probably wouldn’t be willing to take me in—not without any luggage, or even a toothbrush to my name,’ she added grimly.
Dominic merely shrugged his shoulders. ‘It’s up to you, of course. Although it doesn’t look as if you’ve got much choice, does it?’
‘No.’ She gave a heavy sigh. ‘You’re quite right—it doesn’t.’
However, by the time he was parking the large Range Rover in Markham Square, Olivia had managed to overcome her instinctive anger and annoyance at finding herself at the mercy of some arbitrary fate.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I really ought to apologise for being so ratty just now. I expect that I’m just a bit tired—and I was looking forward to returning home and putting my feet up. But I shouldn’t have taken it out on you,’ she added, turning to give him a brief, apologetic smile. ‘And I really am very grateful for the offer of a bed tonight.’
‘there’ no need to apologise.’ He waved a hand dismissively in the air. ‘We’ve both had a long, tiring day.
‘Just a minute,’ she said as he released his seatbelt and opened his door to alight from the vehicle. ‘This “spare room” of yours? I take it it really does exist—and isn’t some figment of your imagination?’
Dominic gave a low rumble of sardonic laughter. ‘Relax! I have at least three spare bedrooms—so