Marrying a Stranger Read online

  Marrying a Stranger

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  When the other guests left after the dinner party, the two women sat on in the living room while Sarah’s husband cleared up in the kitchen, whistling cheerfully.

  She grinned at her cousin. ‘You always look magnificent when you’re angry, Megan. It really is true about red hair and tempers, isn’t it?’

  ‘My hair is auburn!’ Megan snapped automatically. ‘And you’re not going to distract me with that old line. You promised faithfully! No more introductions, you said.’

  Sarah’s voice became coaxing. ‘You’re nearly thirty now. Surely you want to get married and to do that, you have to find a man. So you need to meet more people and—’

  ‘I’m twenty-eight. And not quite on my last legs yet.’ Megan glared at her cousin. ‘It’s not a sin to be single, you know.’

  ‘No, but it’s natural to want a husband and family, and besides, I’ve watched you cuddling my little Amy. You’re getting quite mumsy. But how are you going to meet any decent guys if you will go on living in Upper Shenstead? Why, you didn’t even move to London when you were offered a fabulous job there two years ago.’

  ‘I didn’t move up to London because I prefer to live in the country.’

  Sarah wrinkled her nose and blew out a scornful puff of air. ‘Yeah, well, let’s face it, love, you are a bit of a stick-in-the-mud.’

  For a moment Megan nearly rose to the bait, then she got herself under control. ‘That’s my choice. You just butt out of my love life from now on.’ She stood up. ‘Good night and thanks for a truly ghastly evening.’

  She was out of the house and unlocking her car before Sarah caught up with her.

  ‘I only do it because I care about you.’

  Megan waved but didn’t answer.

  As she left the busy little town behind and headed back to her village, she wondered why she’d got so over-the-top mad at her cousin tonight. After all, Sarah had been trying to find her a husband for years. So what had changed?

  She answered that ruefully as she parked her car and opened the garden gate. What had changed was herself. She’d started to feel restless and look at friends’ children enviously.

  Sarah was right about one thing: it was more than time to make some changes in her life, which was partly why she’d applied to emigrate to Australia. But to her disappointment, they’d rejected her. Secretaries, even those with top skills, were not in great demand down under, it seemed.

  So she’d have to think of something else. Only what? She definitely didn’t want to live in a city.

  And for all her fiery words, she did want to get married and have a family - and sooner rather than later. If she could meet someone who… she sighed. Perhaps she was too picky.

  No. As far as she was concerned, marriage was for life and she wasn’t getting into it until she knew the man was right for her.

  * * *

  The following week Megan took Friday off work and set out for Northumberland, humming as she drove along. She took it easy and was glad when she left the motorway.

  This was an important trip. She’d decided to make changes and facing the ghosts from the past seemed the right first step to sort out her life. She’d lived in the north-east as a child and never been back since her parents were killed in an accident. But she remembered it. Oh, yes. And dreamed about it.

  Just north of Newcastle the engine of her car coughed, faltered, then picked up again. She listened apprehensively, but nothing else happened, so she carried on.

  As she left Morpeth behind, however, the car began to jerk and slow down. ‘Oh, no! Don’t do this to me!’ she begged, but the engine died completely and the car coasted gently to a halt by the side of the road.

  She lifted the bonnet, but could see nothing obviously wrong. To her relief there was a garage a couple of hundred yards away, so she didn’t bother to ring for roadside assistance, but trudged towards it.

  They were about to close, but towed her car in and the mechanic gave it a cursory examination. ‘Looks like a couple of hours’ work there. I can do it for you tomorrow afternoon.’

  She stared at him in dismay. ‘Oh, no! I’m on holiday. I was going up to Alnwick.’

  He shrugged. ‘I’d normally work late, but I’ve got an important family party to attend tonight in Newcastle. Look, if you want somewhere to stay, there’s a country house hotel just down the road. I can drop you and your luggage off there on my way home. Best I can offer.’

  She didn’t have much choice, did she? Sighing, Megan collected her things from the car, feeling annoyed at how her precious weekend break was turning out.

  If this had been a romance novel, the mechanic would have been a hunk and would have invited her out to dinner.

  Life wasn’t like that. The man was fifty if he was a day, and rather chubby.

  Pity.

  * * *

  Ben noticed the woman as she walked into Reception because she was radiating suppressed anger and looked magnificent. She had long, curly auburn hair cascading down her back, a vivid face and nice legs. His eyes lingered on the legs. Very nice.

  She was probably part of the damned conference, though. People had been pouring into this hotel for the last hour, shouting greetings to one another and disrupting the peace of the foyer bar. If he’d known how crowded The Ashington would be, he’d have gone elsewhere. Maybe he would move on tomorrow.

  As he turned towards the lift, a man bumped into him. He heard a voice call out and next minute he was shoved out of the way as someone pounded past him. ‘What the—?’

  He spun round to see the auburn-haired woman a few yards away, struggling with a young man who managed to free one hand and take a swing at her.

  Ben dragged the guy off her, not sure what was happening.

  ‘Don’t let him go! He just took your wallet!’ she gasped. ‘I saw him put it in his pocket.’

  A burly concierge came up in time to hear this. ‘Let me.’ He was strong enough to hold the young fellow still while he felt in the jacket pocket and produced two wallets. ‘Not many people carry two of these.’

  ‘The top one’s mine,’ Ben said.

  The thief made a sudden lunge and nearly got away, but the woman tripped him up. The concierge hauled him to his feet, keeping a firmer hold this time, helped by Ben.

  By this time a crowd had gathered. A man in a dark suit came up to them and said in a low voice, ‘I’m the Duty Manager. Shall we deal with this in my office?’ He gestured towards the right.

  ‘I’ve got him now.’ The concierge frog-marched the thief towards the door.

  Ben turned to the young woman, who was rubbing her temple where the man had punched her. ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘Yes. Luckily it was just a glancing blow.’ She glanced towards the reception desk. ‘I’d better get my luggage.’

  ‘I’ll fetch it for you.’ Ben strode across the foyer, looked back to confirm that he had the right things, then brought them across and escorted her to the manager’s office.

  Inside the office, the young man was standing with arms folded. ‘She stole the wallet and planted it on me,’ he said immediately.

  Ben glared at him. ‘She couldn’t have done. I watched her walk in and cross to Reception. She was still standing there whe
n you bumped into me.’

  He turned back to her. ‘I can’t thank you enough. I’d have lost my wallet but for you.’ There was a bruise forming on her forehead, but otherwise she looked more exhilarated than upset. Her air of fresh vigour appealed to Ben. Very much.

  She smiled. ‘You’re welcome. I hope he hasn’t given me a black eye, though.’

  ‘No, just a bruise on the forehead. About there. He touched his own in the same place. ‘Are you sure you’re all right?’

  ‘I’m fine.’

  ‘Not many women would have tackled him.’

  She shrugged. ‘I’ve done a bit of self-defence. I went after him automatically.’

  ‘It was a brave thing to do, and we’re very grateful,’ the manager said approvingly.

  Megan could feel herself flushing as all four men stared at her. ‘It’s nothing, honestly. Anyone would have done the same thing.’

  ‘I doubt it.’ The stranger’s gaze was still warm.

  She took a deep breath, or tried to. Now that the incident was over, reaction had set in and she felt flustered and uncertain. This wasn’t helped by standing next to the best-looking man she’d seen in a long time. She stole a glance sideways. He was more than good-looking. Heavens, he was downright handsome! Dark hair, straight nose, firm chin, broad shoulders - the works!

  She caught sight of the clock. ‘Is this going to take long?’ she asked the manager. ‘I was just trying to book a room for tonight and you seem rather full. My car’s broken down.’

  He picked up the phone, had a quiet conversation, then smiled benevolently at her. ‘We are pretty full, but there is a spare suite. You can have that. And the hotel will not, of course, charge you for your accommodation tonight, Miss—?’

  ‘Ross. Megan Ross.’

  He turned back to relay her name to the person on the other end of the phone, then nodded to the concierge. ‘Could you have Miss Ross’s luggage taken up to Number 36, please, Jeff, while we sort this out? Now, Mr Saunders, I think I’d better hold on to your wallet till the police arrive. Perhaps you’d like to take a seat.’

  ‘I’ll sit near the door.’ He stared at the thief, who scowled back at him.

  ‘And I’ll keep watch this side,’ the manager said.

  As they waited, Megan wondered how much a suite normally cost, but didn’t like to ask. Whatever. She was relieved to have somewhere to stay and it’d be another new experience staying in a suite. Wait till she told Sarah!

  It was a while before the police arrived, by which time Megan, sitting on the couch, had memorised every inch of Ben Saunders’ face and noted that he had shapely hands. She’d felt him staring at her, as well, and had tried not to react to that.

  She must look a mess. Her clothes were crumpled from the journey, her hair clasp must have fallen out in the struggle, and it felt as if her hair had reverted to its usual wild tangle. She tried surreptitiously to smooth it down, saw Ben watching her, so left it alone, because she’d read somewhere that women fiddled with their hair when they were attracted to a man.

  She sighed. Well, she was attracted. Who wouldn’t be? Why couldn’t she have met a man like this when she was looking her best?

  The police officer was shown in, recognised the would-be thief on sight and chuckled. ‘Not you again!’

  Although the young guy stopped protesting his innocence and admitted to the attempted theft, it was still quite a while before the paperwork was completed. Only then were Megan and Ben allowed to leave.

  As they came out of the office into the foyer, he turned to smile at her. ‘You must let me show my gratitude by buying you dinner. Your quick action’s saved me a lot of hassles.’

  ‘There’s no need. I was happy to help.’ Not that she’d mind having dinner with him. He was every young woman’s fantasy come true. But she didn’t want him to take her to dinner out of cool gratitude. She moved across to the Reception desk to pick up her key, but glanced sideways in surprise when Ben Saunders followed her.

  ‘We both have to eat,’ he pointed out. ‘It’d be silly for each of us to sit alone in the dining room.’

  His smile made her breath catch in her throat. Perhaps she would have dinner with him, then. No, what was she thinking of? A man like him was bound to be married – they always were – and it was one of her prime rules not to get mixed up with married men. And actually, she didn’t know the first thing about him and she always tried to be careful.

  ‘I’d really enjoy some company,’ he added quietly.

  Well, give him a gold star for perseverance, whatever else. She hesitated, glancing towards his hand. No ring. But that didn’t mean anything. Most men didn’t wear wedding rings. Though she’d once or twice wished they were obliged to by law!

  He chuckled as if he knew what she was thinking about. ‘I’m not married or spoken for. And you’ll be quite safe having dinner with a stranger in a busy hotel like this. Only we’re not quite strangers now, are we?’

  She gave up the battle to be sensible and smiled at him. ‘Oh, well. If you’re sure. I accept your kind offer.’

  ‘I’m very sure. I’ll pick you up in – what? Fifteen minutes?’

  ‘Make it half an hour.’

  That would give her time to smarten herself up – and calm down a bit. It was probably just reaction to the recent events that was making her heart beat so fast.

  Who was she kidding? she admitted to herself as she stood beside him in the lift. You’re reacting to him. And what normal woman wouldn’t?

  As she closed the door of her suite behind her, she leaned against it and let out her breath in a whoosh. Then she laughed aloud as she suddenly realised how far she’d stepped right out of her rut today. She’d headed back to lay her childhood ghosts, prevented a robbery and met a gorgeous man, who’d invited her to dinner.

  Nothing would come of it – she’d never see him again after today – but just wait till she told Sarah about this little adventure!

  She walked round the suite, enjoying the luxury. It was large and beautifully appointed, with a sitting room, bathroom, small kitchen and separate bedroom. She’d never have been to afford this, or rather, she’d never have spent as much money on one night’s accommodation as this no doubt cost normally.

  As she looked out of the window at tranquil formal gardens backed by a glorious sunset sky, her spirits lifted. There was nothing like a dash of luxury for lifting your spirits.

  She unpacked rapidly, deciding to wear the new dress she’d fallen for last time she was in Cheltenham. She’d been in two minds as to whether to bring it. Thank goodness she had done! Half an hour wasn’t nearly long enough to get ready, though. She tried two different hairstyles, then in desperation clipped her hair into a high knot of curls and teased a few strands out to soften her face.

  Smoothing the dark green material of the dress over her hips, she twisted round to see the side view. Life would, she thought for about the millionth time, be a lot easier if she didn’t have such generous breasts. Her sort of curves had gone out with Marilyn Monroe. Thin was in these days, but she wasn’t into starvation and a life on lettuce leaves.

  There was a knock on the door and she cast a last frantic glance in the mirror before opening it. Heavens, he was even more gorgeous than she’d remembered!

  His eyes were warmly approving. ‘You look lovely, Megan.’

  ‘Oh. Well, um, thank you.’ She never had known how to deal smoothly with compliments. Perhaps because her aunt and uncle weren’t into lavish praise.

  As she looked into his smoky grey eyes, the world receded for a moment and she could only stand there, trying to think of something casually confident to say – and failing. In fact, she couldn’t think of a single word, let alone a whole string of them. Someone should put a blanket over her head and lead her away quietly.

  She suddenly realised he’d said something else and was waiting for an answer. ‘Sorry. I – um – didn’t catch that.’

  ‘I thought we might have a drink in the
bar first.’

  She nodded. ‘That’d be lovely.’

  But it was happy hour and the bar was full of noisy people who all seemed to know one another. He stopped in the doorway to scowl at them. ‘It’s like a madhouse in here and all the seats are taken anyway. Let’s see if the restaurant is quieter.’

  It was much quieter, but most of the space was taken up by some long tables set up but unoccupied. Presumably these were for the big group of revellers now occupying the bar.

  ‘If I’d known there was a damned conference on,’ he muttered. ‘I’d never have come here. These country house hotels are usually quiet and comfortable.’ His expression lightened slightly. ‘On the other hand, if I hadn’t come, I’d not have met you, and that’d be a pity.’

  She blinked in surprise at this remark and looked at him doubtfully. Was he chatting her up, hoping to get lucky tonight? Because if so, he was going to be disappointed.

  No, a man like him wouldn’t be so crass, nor would he be short of female company.

  The maître d’hôtel found them a table in a quiet corner and fussed over them in a way that surprised Megan. It was as if Ben was a celebrity. She studied him through narrowed eyes. If he was, she certainly didn’t recognise his face.

  He leaned back in his chair with a sigh, sounding tired. ‘This is better. I hope you don’t mind eating so early? I think we’d be wise to get our meal before the revellers take over in here as well.’

  ‘I usually eat at six-thirty, so it suits me better, actually.’ That’s right, show him how unsophisticated you are!

  ‘Great. I only had a scratch lunch and I’m starving. Shall we order?’

  Once they were settled with glasses of wine, he asked casually, ‘Do you make a habit of rescuing strangers like that?’

  She wished he wouldn’t go on about it. ‘I’ve never rescued anyone from anything before. It was just a mad impulse. I hate thieves.’

  ‘Well, I’m grateful for it.’ His voice was understanding. ‘And you don’t want to talk about it any more. OK. Modesty rules. Tell me about yourself instead. What do you do for a living?’