Substitute Engagement. Jayne Bauling
with a smile that gave every indication of delight.
‘Lucia!’ the voice matched the smile. ‘You made it after all.’
Astonishment barely allowed her to register that the smoky eyes were sparkling with enjoyment as he reached her. Then amazement gave way to pure shock as he took her by the shoulders, turning her slightly so that her startled expression was concealed from the group of onlookers. She was five feet seven so he had to bend his head to brush a kiss across her cheek.
Lucia was aware of warmth both from his lips and the body so close to hers, its nearness an invasion when he was a total stranger, however welcoming.
‘What…’ she began faintly, her voice trailing away as she became conscious of something else—an urgency about the way his fingers were biting into her shoulders, their grasp somehow imperative.
‘Please excuse us a minute.’ He threw the perfunctory request at a small cluster of spectators, and then he was moving her out through one of the Moorish-style archways bordering the large courtyard with its tubs and hanging baskets of lush foliage and the covered bar at one end.
Caught off balance, Lucia couldn’t resist until they had rounded a corner and were alone, when she wrenched herself free of his hold and turned to face him indignantly, her heart’s rhythm still a speedy drumbeat of surprise.
‘What do you think you’re doing, accosting me like this? Abducting me?’ she demanded furiously.
‘Do you always exaggerate?’ he enquired amusedly.
‘No, only when absolute strangers give me an exaggeratedly warm welcome,’ she retorted.
‘The situation called for drastic measures,’ he asserted rather coolly.
‘Oh, I agree! Slapping your face wouldn’t be too drastic under the circumstances! Who are you, anyway?’ she asked tempestuously, noting that his smile had gone.
‘Rob Ballard,’ he supplied. ‘And it’s just as well you didn’t come out with that question back there at the party.’
The magnate himself, she realised, trying to remember what she knew about him. But the only thing she could recall was his Zimbabwean nationality and the fact that his hotels had a reputation for luxury and casual elegance.
‘And you, of course, are Lucia Flanders,’ he added, with a swift, raking assessment of her heart-shaped face, its delicate bone-structure creating gentle curves that cast soft shadows here and there.
‘Well, look, Mr Ballard-’
‘I think you’re going to have to call me Rob, you know,’ he cut in with soft significance, accompanying it with another smile, brilliantly slashing this time.
‘I’d forgotten about men,’ Lucia murmured obscurely. His tone had given her a clue as to what this was about, and she spent a moment reflecting that during the last couple of months she had forgotten about most of the things that pleased, amused or even infuriated her. ‘Sorry, Rob—but look! Engaged!’
With a piquant smile she held up her hand, displaying the flashing diamond on a plain gold band, and the smoke-coloured eyes narrowed briefly.
‘Are you sure of that?’ The smile had grown slightly cruel. ‘Take it off, Lucia.’
He was reaching for her hand so she dropped it hastily, a little disconcerted by his manner but still confident that she could handle this, even if he was using lines that were unfamiliar to her. She shook her head slowly.
‘I’ve worn it too long,’ she claimed happily.
‘Way too long when you haven’t placed a wedding band beside it,’ he agreed smoothly.
‘That’s due to happen shortly,’ she informed him easily, deciding abruptly that she didn’t need to make the rejection kind when he was so over-confident ‘So you’re out of luck, aren’t you?’
‘What? Do you think I’m making some kind of pass?’ he asked disbelievingly.
It rocked her, because that was exactly what she had thought, but pride came to her rescue and she managed to mask her embarrassment.
‘What was it, then?’ she demanded. ‘That warm welcome when we’ve never met before—what were you doing?’
‘Securing my sister’s happiness, or at least her peace of mind—and coincidentally saving your face, I suspect,’ Rob Ballard submitted expressionlessly, and paused. ‘Didn’t Beth Olivier at least give you some warning when she last visited South Africa?’
‘What are you talking about?’
Suddenly Lucia’s voice was sharp with anxiety. Thierry’s mother was a South African who visited her country several times a year, but she had never once contacted Lucia when she’d done so.
Lucia had always been aware of her future mother-in-law’s disapproval, and when all her most winning efforts had failed to achieve any softening in her she had accepted the situation, respectful of the breeding which caused Beth to ignore her when she could and be coldly polite when she couldn’t, because an open, ongoing quarrel would have been intolerable.
‘You’ve stayed away too long, Lucia. Thierry Olivier obviously got tired of waiting for you, because he and my young sister are on the point of announcing their engagement. That’s what this afternoon’s party is about, and partly why I’m here.’
He made no attempt to soften it—the brutal announcement was thrown at her with a trace of mockery but nothing else whatsoever.
‘I don’t believe you.’ The denial was automatic. ‘Thierry and I have been in love for years, and engaged all this last year.’
‘Too long, as I’ve said.’ He was taunting.
‘He knew there was no point in our getting married when I couldn’t be here living with him. I had to get my degree,’ Lucia explained, her tone growing almost blithe as confidence reasserted itself.
‘Of course, and you’ve just completed your third and final year at the University of Witwatersrand, I’m told. So perhaps he decided someone who would put his needs before her career suited him better,’ came the derisive suggestion.
‘I’d like to hear that from him,’ she retorted, beginning to move forward.
‘Where do you think you’re going?’
‘To find Thierry and ask him what’s going on,’ she snapped, but stopped and took a step backwards as she saw Rob Ballard’s hands raised to halt her departure, finding that she didn’t want him to touch her.
‘Oh, no, Lucia, you are not going to go through there and cause a scene,’ he advised her with silken authority. ‘But, in a minute or two, you are going to join the party with me and ease my sister’s mind by showing her and everyone else that you don’t care, that, if anything, this is the way out you’ve been looking for—ever since you met me, I think we’ll make it.’
‘And where would I have met you?’ Lucia enquired scornfully, but a gathering uneasiness was nudging at her confidence and a tiny crease had appeared between eyebrows which were a shade or two darker than her hair.
‘I spent a week in Johannesburg on business a couple of months ago, which is where you’ve been at university. And, for all anyone knows, I’m in and out of there quite regularly. I’ve hardly even had a chance to talk to my sister since I arrived here, so she won’t wonder why I haven’t mentioned you.’
Lucia stared at him with eyes that were beginning to blaze.
‘The thing is full of flaws—’
‘We’ll make it up as we go along.’
‘We won’t make anything up! You’re forgetting something.’ Abruptly her fury erupted. ‘Even if one word of what you say is true, I happen to be wearing the engagement ring Thierry gave me, and he has not asked me