Carole Mortimer- The One and Only Read online

'Why?' Marcus Ballantyne addressed the question to Joy, totally ignoring the younger man now as he pulled out the chair beside her and sat down without being invited to do so.

  Which brought him all the closer to her, and Joy could feel her hands shaking slightly as she clasped them together beneath the table. This man was something else, unlike anyone she had ever met before. No wonder he was so much in demand both on television and the big screen; he was magnetic. And Joy could feel herself being drawn unresist­ingly towards him. Unresisting because she simply couldn't break the spell of that steady gaze.

  'Why Joy?' he repeated huskily, leaning forward slightly, effectively cutting Danny out of their con­versation as the younger man resumed his seat op­posite Joy.

  She moistened lips that felt suddenly dry. 'Casey is... It's an old family name,' she told him truth­fully, wondering if that slightly breathless voice could really be her own. But she knew it was, knew she had never felt such emotional confusion, knew her usual capable efficiency was deserting her. 'I prefer my other name—Joy.' She had refused point-blank to spend the whole evening with Danny Eames answering o her cousin's name, and had decided before meeting him that she would use her own name. He hadn't been concerned about her name anyway—in fact she was surprised he could even remember it to introduce her to the other man!

  'So do I,' Marcus Ballantyne told her huskily. 'Much more. ..feminine.' His tone implied that that was exactly what he thought she was.

  Joy swallowed hard, knowing she was—subtly-being flirted with. Ridiculous. She was a librarian from a small rural town in the south of England-----

  'And what do you do, Joy?' That cobalt-blue gaze continued to hold hers.

  It was almost as if by doing so he had been able to read her thoughts. He obviously knew she wasn't an actress, otherwise their paths would probably have crossed before. But, somehow, just baldly stating that she worked in her local library didn't seem appropriate-----

  'Joy lives out of town.' Danny Eames was the one to answer the other man. 'She's an old... friend.'

  She gave him a startled look at this explanation. What on earth...?

  Marcus Ballantyne relaxed back in his chair now, watching her from beneath brooding brows. 'She doesn't look that old to me,' he finally drawled.

  Danny gave a nervously dismissive laugh at the other man's obvious sarcasm. 'You know what I mean, Marcus.'

  Joy knew what he was implying too—and she didn't like it one little bit! Why was Danny lying to the other man? What possible reason could he have for giving the impression that they had once been—even if they weren't now—involved?

  'Yes,' the older man acknowledged gratingly, still looking at Joy. 'But that still doesn't tell me-----'

  'Marcus, I think your group of friends are trying to let you know they're leaving,' Danny cut in, looking pointedly over to the table where the other man had been sitting with a dozen or so people until a few minutes ago.

  A rather attractive blonde, probably in her early twenties, was looking pointedly over at Marcus Ballantyne now as the rest of the group prepared to leave. Joy vaguely recognised her as an actress who had briefly appeared in a long-running soap, although the woman's name escaped her. Not that it was important what her name was; she was ob­viously expecting Marcus Ballantyne to rejoin them.

  He studied Joy for several more tong, lingering seconds before turning uninterestedly towards the other table, his mouth twisting with irritation as he saw the young blonde looking so longingly towards him. 'Excuse me for a few minutes.' He stood up in one fluid movement. 'But I'll be back,' he added, looking down at Joy again before turning to walk purposefully across the room to his friends.

  Joy wasted no time, once he had gone, in turning accusingly to Danny. 'What do you think you're doing?' she demanded indignantly. 'I had never even met you before this evening!' And she never intended spending another evening in his company either. The things she did for Casey! The trouble was, her cousin would think the whole thing was hilarious. Ha ha!

  Danny looked uncomfortable now, completely unlike the egotistical idiot he had been all evening. 'I'm really sorry about that, Joy,' he said sheepishly. 'I just... Well, I didn't want Marcus to know... Well...'

  It was all suddenly clear to Joy: Danny didn't want the other man to know dinner with him had been first prize in a Valentine competition! It would be funny in any other circumstances, and if she hadn't just spent such an awful evening in his company. As it was-----

  'Please, Joy.' Danny put his hand cajolingly over hers. 'Not Marcus, of all people!'

  She could understand why he didn't want the older man to know he had been a prize in a com­petition, and was sure Marcus Ballantyne would never have put himself in such a position. Ob­viously it had fed Danny's ego, but it wasn't some­thing he wanted a man like Marcus Ballantyne to know about!

  'I'll tell you what,' Danny continued encourag­ingly. 'I'll take you out to dinner tomorrow evening too if you'll just-----'

  'No! Er—no,' she refused, less desperately than her initial outburst. "That really won't be necessary, Danny.' The mere thought of it was enough to send her into a panic. Another evening spent in this man's company? Never! Besides, if the truth were known, she didn't particularly want Marcus Ballantyne to think that she had entered a com­petition, obviously aimed at lovesick, im­pressionable women, to win an evening out with Danny Eames. 'I understand completely, Danny,' she soothed. 'And your secret is safe with me.' And her own!

  'Thanks, Joy,' he said with obvious gratitude. 'I owe you one.'

  'What secret?' drawled the familiar voice of Marcus Ballantyne as he resumed his seat next to Joy, looking at the two of them curiously with that compelling blue gaze.

  Joy couldn't help her glance in the direction of his group of laughing friends as they prepared to leave, the pretty blonde in particular, who was still looking longingly in Marcus Ballantyne's direction as one of the other men in the group encouraged her to leave.

  When Joy turned back, it was to find Marcus Ballantyne watching her with dark brows raised in questioning amusement. She could feel the heat in her cheeks at his mockery of her interest in his group of friends, especially the young actress. Damn him!

  'I hope we haven't dragged you away from your friends,' Joy told turn stiltedly.

  'Not in the least,' he dismissed easily, very re­laxed in his chair, completely in command of the situation. 'I'm not interrupting anything, am I?’ Again he looked at: the two of them questioningly.

  'Of course not,' Danny answered him a little too enthusiastically, obviously quite pleased that the other man had chosen to join them, but at the same time a little wary of his reasons for wanting to do so. 'I told you, Joy and I are just friends.'

  And that 'friend' knew, even if Danny didn't, exactly why Marcus Ballantyne had decided to join the two of them. Ridiculous, she thought, not for the first time this evening. A man like Marcus Ballantyne, who could have his pick of beautiful women, couldn't possibly be seriously interested in her. Well, of course, he wasn't seriously interested. It was the fact that he found her attractive at all that was so unnerving. And he so obviously did. He certainly wasn't remaining with them because he enjoyed Danny's company; the slight contempt he had for the younger man was more than ap­parent to Joy.

  'Why don't the two of you join our party?' Marcus Ballantyne invited smoothly. "They're going on somewhere to dance,' he encouraged huskily.

  Danny looked at her. 'Joy?'

  She knew what Casey would say. Have fun. Enjoy yourself. Flirt a little.

  But that would be so completely out of character. Until six months ago she had been in a steady re­lationship for almost four years with Gerald, a man in his late forties who took life very seriously, his career in particular. And their parting had not been an amicable one.

  Even more reason to relax and enjoy herself now, Casey would have told her. Had told her before she came away. 'Forget your life back here for a week, Joy,' he had instructed firmly. 'Be someone else fo
r a while, do things you wouldn't normally do. That shouldn't be too difficult,' he had added dis­gustedly, because she never did anything except go to work, go home to spend the evening reading, and then get up the next morning and go to work again. She hadn't even taken a day off in the last six months. She had worked six days a week, con­centrating on her household chores on Sundays.

  Casey had made her life sound so boring, so-so flat and mundane. And when she had sat and thought about it she had realised that it was, that she was a twenty-seven-year-old woman who was allowing life just to pass her by, who was becoming staid and old-maidish. That was the reason she had finally allowed herself to be pressured into coming away for this week...

  But surely this was going to the other extreme, going off to God knew where for the rest of the evening, with a group of actors and actresses who had nothing in common with her normal everyday life? Absolutely nothing in common with that boring, flat, mundane life...

  'Yes, I would like that' She felt a surge of exhil­aration, and her cheeks flushed as she voiced her impulsive decision out loud. 'I would like that very much,' she repeated firmly, that exhilaration turning to a feeling of fluttering excitement in the pit of her stomach as she saw the look of satis­faction on Marcus Ballantyne's face at her agreement to his suggestion that they go dancing.

  CHAPTER TWO

  'Your friend seems happy enough,' Marcus drawled beside her.

  Joy glanced over uninterestedly to where Danny was now dancing enthusiastically with the pouting blonde.

  She still wasn't quite sure what she was doing here herself, in a nightclub she had only ever read about in the newspapers before this evening, but Marcus Ballantyne was right: Danny was certainly enjoying himself with the young actress.

  They had all piled into taxis when they had left the restaurant earlier, and somehow Joy had found herself squashed between the door of the taxi and Marcus Ballantyne. And he hadn't left her side since their arrival at the club, the slightly proprietorial air he had adopted towards her warning off any of the other men in the group. Including Danny, who, because of the older man's apparent interest in her, had suddenly started looking at her with new eyes himself. But after making such a point of saying they were simply old friends, he hadn't been able to make too much of a claim on her himself, finally going off to chat and flirt with the lovely blonde who had been so peeved with Marcus Ballantyne earlier. Joy was sure that initially the two of them had only got together because they were so piqued with her and Marcus, but they now seemed to be genuinely enjoying each other's company.

  'Yes,' she acknowledged huskily, taking a sip of her wine, unable to look at Marcus.

  God, she felt uncomfortable in his company. She didn't even know what to talk to him about!

  'Relax, Joy.' As he spoke Marcus moved one lean hand to cover hers as it rested on her thigh, causing Joy to look up at him with startled green eyes. 'I'm quite harmless, you know.' He gave her that teasing grin that was so famous from television and film screens.

  Anyone less harmless than this man she had yet to meet! He gave the impression of a leashed tiger, bound only by a thin veneer of civilisation. And it was questionable whether that veneer always re­mained in place. Somehow Joy doubted it...

  Marcus leaned forward slightly, bringing his face dangerously close to hers, his fingers becoming en­twined with hers now—long, lean fingers that made her hand look tiny in comparison. But everything about this man was big—in fact, he was larger than life. Joy felt lost.

  'I don't bite—at least, not on a first date,' he told her huskily, dark blue eyes alight with humour.

  Completely lost! She shouldn't have listened to Casey's voice inside her head earlier. She wasn't having fun and enjoying herself, was too nervous in this man's company to do that. Gerald had been old beyond his years, very serious, and so her ex­perience with men was limited—very limited when it came to men like Marcus Ballantyne. She cer­tainly couldn't forget who she was for this one evening, and flirt with this man. She was totally out of her depth.

  She swallowed hard, 'We aren't on a date,' she dismissed, as lightly as she could, hoping she sounded more self-assured than she felt.

  'That can easily be remedied.' He shrugged broad shoulders. 'Have dinner with me tomorrow evening.' His blue gaze easily held hers. 'I promise not to bite then, either.'

  Have dinner with this man? Just the two of them out for an evening together? He had to be joking!

  'Unless Danny was exaggerating things slightly when he told me earlier that your friendship with him was a thing of the past?' Marcus persisted at her lack of reply. 'After all, it is Valentine's night— perhaps he was trying to revive things between the two of you?'

  Danny hadn't been exaggerating about there being nothing intimate between them; he had been completely fabricating the whole thing. But without revealing her own part in the competition prize, she couldn't exactly tell Marcus that. And the more time she spent in Marcus Ballantyne's company, the less she wanted him to know about that.

  'There is absolutely nothing like that between Danny and myself,' she said with complete cer­tainty, knowing there never would be. She still thought he was the biggest bore she had ever met in her life, and if she ever had to spend another evening in his company she would fall asleep! 'Danny was alone this evening, and I happened to be in town, so dinner seemed like a good idea,' she dismissed easily.

  'Good,' Marcus accepted with satisfaction. 'In that case, think about dinner tomorrow. And in the meantime,' he added, before she could make a reply, 'would you like to dance?'

  Joy very much doubted that this man very often had to leave a woman to think about going out with him! It was... Dance? He wanted her to get up and dance with him? To this? The loud rock music had stopped several minutes ago to be replaced by slow love-songs—in fact Danny and the young blonde had been entwined in each other's arms for some time. And now Marcus had suggested that the two of them-----!

  He gave a throaty chuckle at her side. 'I don't think I've ever met anyone quite like you before, Joy,' he told her with a smile, as she turned to look at him enquiringly. 'Believe me, you're very re­freshing!' he assured her at her doubtful look.

  Gauche and unsophisticated was what he really meant, Joy was sure. And who could blame him for thinking that? She was behaving like some in­experienced teenager rather than the mature woman she was supposed to be. The man was suggesting they dance together, not asking her to go to bed with him!

  'I would love to dance.' She stood up deter­minedly once she had made the announcement, her forced confidence shaken a little as she realised that Marcus Ballantyne's fingers were still entwined with hers, his hand tightening its grasp slightly as he stood up beside her, moving forward to make a path for them to the crowded dance-floor.

  Joy had no choice but to go along with him; the clasp of his hand was deceptively light, but she had no doubt that if she seemed in any danger of leaving his side, for whatever reason, his fingers would tighten quite painfully.

  Her heart was racing; a pulse seemed to be ham­mering in her throat as Marcus took her in his arms.

  He was so much taller and bigger than she was, she realised, as he gathered her close against him, the top of her head resting under his chin, strong arms about her waist as he moulded her body against his.

  Joy could barely breathe -and it had little to do with the fact that her face was buried against the hardness of his chest. It had everything to do with the fact that she was completely aware of this man, from the hard leanness of his body to the tanta­lising smell of the aftershave he wore.

  He moved rhythmically to the beat of the music, his body seductive against hers, the crush of the dance-space making it impossible for them to move off the spot. When he had pulled her into his arms Joy hadn't known what to do with her hands, but as Marcus put his arms possessively about her narrow waist she had perforce to place her hands on his broad shoulders. And she had never felt so uncomfortable in her life, her efforts to ho
ld herself apart from Marcus quickly dealt with by him as he moulded her into the hard contours of his body with the firmness of his hands against her lower back. In fact, those hands were a little too familiar against the curve of the base of her spine!

  'I said relax, Joy.' He lowered his head to murmur close to her ear, his breath warm and caressing against her skin. 'We're only dancing.'

  It might only be dancing to him, but it felt more like making love to music to her! Maybe he was used to this sort of intimacy, but she certainly wasn't; there didn't seem to be a part of their bodies that wasn't touching; even their legs were brushing together as they could only move from side to side to the music. So much for behaving like the mature woman she was supposed to be; her legs felt as if they were going to buckle beneath her if this bat­tering to her senses; continued.

  'Have fun. Enjoy yourself. Flirt a little!' This was going from one extreme to the other. From merely existing for the last six months—going to work, then home, then back to work again—she had suddenly been thrust into a situation, with this wildly attractive man, that she just didn't know how to deal with. She wasn't just out of her depth, she was sinking! It reminded her of a poem she had loved to read when she was younger, she thought slightly hysterically, the poem a cry for help from someone everyone thought was in control but who was actually anything but. Her own self-assured control had completely deserted her.

  'Would you like to sit down again?' Marcus of­fered huskily. 'I've been wanting to hold you in my arms like this ever since I glanced across the res­taurant earlier and saw you sitting there like a shimmering green flame among the dross,' he con­tinued softly. 'But we can sit down if that's what you would prefer to... God, Joy, what's a woman like you doing with a man like Danny Eames?' He suddenly sounded angry.

  Joy gasped at this attack. 'I-----'

  'The man is at best an idiot,' Marcus rasped dis­paragingly. 'At worst-----'

  'I don't really think it's any of your business what I'm doing with Danny,' Joy cut in, having re­covered slightly from the unexpected attack. 'And what do you mean,' she added defensively, 'a woman like me?'