Paper Marriages. Jacqueline Baird
a child suddenly held strong appeal. ‘How old are you, Penelope?’ he asked softly.
‘Nineteen in September,’ she answered without thinking.
‘I’m thirty-four, a lot older than you.’ And a hell of a lot more experienced, but Solo did not say it. He did not want to frighten her off. She was like a perfect rosebud slowly unfurling. She came alive in his arms, all heat and light and totally unconscious of her potent sensuality.
‘Not too old,’ she murmured, her fingers curling into his shirt.
He chuckled. ‘Good, Penelope, hold that thought, but for the moment coffee.’ He ran a soothing hand up and down her spine. Then, cupping her face in his strong hands, he smiled into her eyes and gently kissed the tip of her nose.
‘You get the coffee, I’ll carry the tray, my hands are steadier than yours are.’ And smoothing a few stray tendrils of hair back from her face, he added, ‘There—no one will ever guess I have been seducing you in the kitchen.’
‘It was only a kiss.’ Penny finally managed to speak almost steadily, embarrassed by her headlong capitulation to his overpowering male sexuality.
His slate-grey eyes hardened on her slight, tense frame with a narrow intensity that made her shiver. ‘Don’t pretend with me, Penelope. The sexual chemistry between us is intense, you know it… accept it, and I promise you won’t be disappointed.’
Their eyes met and meshed and something indefinable passed between them.
‘Yes,’ Penny murmured.
Solo’s deep chest heaved and he stepped back a couple of paces. He had her, he thought exultantly. ‘I won’t rush you, Penelope, except for the coffee!’ he added teasingly to lighten the atmosphere.
Walking behind Solo into the dining room, she had to battle to keep down the blush that threatened, convinced the others must know what they had been doing, but no one noticed.
Later she was stu
nned as they all stood at the front door saying their goodbyes and Solo managed to arrange to come back in two days’ time—Saturday—the only time he had free to look over the land, and Penny was to be his guide, because of course her parents and James were going to a house party.
Later, lying in bed going over the events of the evening, she touched her lips and felt again the pressure of Solo’s mouth. It had really happened, and she was seeing him on Saturday. She went to sleep with wild dreams of an erotic weekend ahead.
Solo guided the car through the country lanes deep in thought. Once he hit the motorway heading back towards London he turned to Tina. ‘Tomorrow send flowers, and an expensive piece of jewellery to Lisa Brunton in New York with a suitable note ending the arrangement. I won’t be seeing her again. You know the address.’ His decision was made: he was going to marry Penelope Haversham, but first he had to cut all ties with his past liaisons.
‘Good idea. I can imagine the dollar signs in her eyes,’ Tina agreed.
Saturday morning Penny opened the door to Solo Maffeiano and stared. He was wearing a blue checked shirt, and blue jeans hung low on his hips and moulded his long legs like a second skin. He carried an overnight bag in one hand, and, when she dared to look up into his face, a spasm of sensation clenched her stomach sending her pulse rate flying.
Solo dropped his bag and swept her into his arms. A long kiss later with her head swimming and her legs shaking, he finally set her free.
It was a weekend out of time. Penny introduced him to Mrs Brown, and Brownie insisted on accompanying them when Penny showed him to the room that had been prepared for him.
‘I see we really do have a chaperone,’ Solo said with a rueful grin when they finally walked out of the house ten minutes later, and got in the car. ‘Not that I’m objecting—it is good to know you have been properly looked after.’
She shot him a surprised glance; it seemed an odd thing for him to say. Old-fashioned, but rather honourable, and her happiness ratio went up another notch.
They parked the car at the pub in the village, and walked across the fields. Solo was a fascinating companion. He told her of his travels around the world, and his home in Italy that he managed to go to as often as he could, but not as often as he would like. He made her laugh, and she made him climb over stiles, and hike for miles. But in between they exchanged brief and not so brief kisses, and he continued to tease her sexily until she was unable to think straight.
By the time they sat down to dinner that night, under Brownie’s beady eye, Penny knew she was in love for the first time in her life.
Penny leaned over the crib and marvelled at the baby boy. ‘He’s beautiful—he’s going to grow up to be a stunningly handsome man,’ she told the doting mother, Patricia, her friend Jane’s sister who had arrived from New York the day before. ‘Though maybe not as handsome as Solo,’ she sighed dreamily. Solo was never out of her thoughts—it had been the most perfect five weeks of her life.
‘You are besotted with that man.’ Jane laughed. ‘You mention his name just about every other sentence.’
‘I’m not that bad. Am I?’ Penny queried with a grin.
‘Do I smell romance in the air, Penny?’ Patricia interjected, touching the baby’s head. ‘He is asleep,’ she murmured before sitting down next to Penny on the sofa.
‘Maybe.’ Penny blushed; she could not help it.
‘And you should see him, Patricia,’ Jane cut in. ‘Tall, dark and handsome does not cover it, add rich and he is every girl’s dream.’
Patricia gave Penny a searching look. ‘He sounds too good to be true. I hope you’re being careful,’ she went on bluntly. ‘You don’t want to end up another statistic in the unmarried mothers list.’
Chance would be a fine thing, Penny thought wistfully. Solo had taken her out every weekend, and she had just about offered herself on a plate. But he had a lot more self-control than she did. He always called a halt before they went too far. She admired him for his strong principle, but it did not stop her aching in bed every night.
‘He is not like that,’ Penny defended. ‘He respects me.’
‘My, my,’ Patricia drawled teasingly. ‘The boy must be a paragon of virtue, if he does not want to get into your knickers.’
‘Please.’ Penny blushed scarlet again. ‘It is not like that.’
‘Unless of course he is a virgin like yourself,’ Patricia offered with a grin.
Jane spluttered, ‘He is no boy, and I’d bet my life savings he is no virgin,’ and went off into paroxysms of laughter.
Penny had never thought of Solo with another woman, but Jane’s words forced her to. Solo was a healthy, virile male, a lot older than she was; he was bound to have dated, even loved other women, and it hurt.
‘Do you mind?’ Penny snapped. ‘It is not a joke. Solo is the man I am going to marry.’
‘What?’ Jane exclaimed, her laughter vanishing. ‘The hunk has actually asked you?’
‘Well, almost,’ Penny amended, and did what she had been dying to do all week—she confided her secret hope to Jane and Patricia. ‘When Solo came down last Saturday, he had a talk with my father, but then his PA called him and he had to leave suddenly. But when I saw Solo out to his car, he said he had something very important to ask me when he got back. Plus all week my father has been grinning at me, as if he knows something I don’t.’ The relief at being able to share her excitement with her friends was heady. ‘Solo telephoned me yesterday. He is coming back tomorrow, and he has planned a special dinner in London for the two of us. What else could it all mean?’ she asked, turning sparkling eyes on her friends.
‘If you are right, this is serious,’ Patricia said bluntly. ‘You’re only eighteen.’
‘I’m