The Society Groom

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And 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 you’ll be able to take your pick,’ he told her, before coming round to open the passenger door. ‘Although, of course, I’d be more than happy to offer you the use of my own bedroom. ’

‘If it includes you as well—the answer is thanks, but no thanks!’ she snapped, her nerves not improved by the sight of his wide grin and the glint of ironic amusement in his eyes, clearly visible beneath the sodium glare of a nearby streetlight.

‘Calm down, darling,’ he drawled, helping her down from the vehicle and issuing her in through the front door of a large house. ‘I can promise you, on my word of honour, that I won’t lay a hand on you.’

‘You’d better keep your promise—or you’ll be sorry!’ she muttered grimly as he led the way into a sitting room.

So much for the ‘small pad in Chelsea’! Olivia told herself, recalling how Dominic had described his home in London as she gazed around the large, elegantly decorated room. Having been forced to save up every penny for her own small mews house, she was in no doubt that this huge building would, on the open market, fetch well over a million pounds.

‘Now...why don’t we both relax and have a drink?’ he was saying, with a slow, sensual smile which practically made her hair stand on end. ‘I can offer you some whisky, or brandy, or...’

Olivia gave a nervous shake of her head. ‘No, thanks all the same, but I’m really feeling very tired. It’s been a long day,’ she added quickly. ‘If... if you don’t mind, I’d like to go to my room straight away.’

‘Of course,’ he said, opening the door and waving for her to go ahead of him up the wide flight of stairs, before leading her along the landing and throwing open the door of a large guest room.

‘As you see,’ Dominic told her, walking across the large room and opening a door in the far corner, ‘this guest bedroom has its own en suite bathroom. I’ll just check...’ He switched on the lights and peered around the door. ‘Yes, there appear to be plenty of towels. But let me know if there’s anything else you require, OK?’ he murmured as he retraced his steps across the room, giving her a slight smile before closing the bedroom door behind him.

Well, things could definitely be a lot worse, Olivia told herself some time later, almost groaning with pleasure as she lay back in the deliciously oily, highly perfumed bath water, closing her eyes and letting all the stresses and strains of the day drain out of her tired body.

Although she’d been fed up at not being able to relax in her own bed, it was kind of Dominic to have placed a spare room at her disposal. Not that he wasn’t the same tricky, conniving, two-timing rat that she’d known all those years ago, of course, she quickly reminded herself. Leopards didn’t change their spots—right? And the way that blonde bimbo had practically glued herself to his tall, broad-shouldered figure on the dance floor had been nothing short of disgraceful!

But why should she care? It was, after all, years since she’d first tumbled headlong into love with Dominic. But she was no longer a silly teenager, and if he wanted to make an exhibition of himself—or go to bed with half the women in London, for that matter—it was absolutely nothing to do with her.

Well, yes...OK...she had been upset to see him again. But that was only because his appearance at the wedding had been so totally unexpected. Any woman would be likely to feel slightly shocked and thrown a bit off base by the sudden appearance of an old flame. So her reaction had been a quite normal one, she assured herself firmly. And, after a good night’s sleep, she would be perfectly capable of saying a cheerful goodbye to her host before going back to her own home and never giving him another thought.

Having sorted out the current situation to her own satisfaction, Olivia felt a whole lot more cheerful. Of course, the relaxing effect of a hot bath had a lot to do with it, she told herself, climbing out of the deep tub and wrapping a thick fluffy towel about her slim figure. However, it wasn’t until she was walking slowly back into the bedroom that she suddenly realised she had a slight problem.

Although many of her friends slept in the nude, she’d never been at all keen on getting into a cold bed stark naked. And, since she’d made the mistake of rinsing out her underwear and leaving it to dripdry by morning, she was now well and truly stuck without anything to wear. However, just as she was wondering whether to wrap a fresh, clean towel about herself, in place of her usual night attire, she heard a brisk tap on her door.

‘I hope you haven’t gone to sleep in the bath,’ Dominic’s amused voice called out from the other side of the door. ‘Would you care for the use of a spare dressing gown?’

Hesitating for a moment, she quickly wrapped the towel more tightly about her before opening the door.

‘Yes, I would,’ she admitted, noting from his damp, curly dark hair that he, too, must have recently had a bath or shower. And, instead of his elegant morning dress, Dominic was now wearing a knee-length, dark red silk dressing gown. And not much else, if the sight of his long, tanned bare legs was anything to go by, she told herself grimly as he walked across the room to open the door of a large cupboard.

‘There’s a spare gown in here,’ he said, taking out a long, silky garment and handing it to her. ‘There are also one or two nighties—but I’ll leave you to make your own choice.’

‘That’s very kind of you, but I really don’t think that—’

‘Don’t worry—they are definitely not my old girlfriends’ castoffs!’ He turned to give her a quick grin as he closed the door of the wardrobe. ‘My older sister, Connie, was over from the United States last year, and she left some articles of clothing behind when she returned home.’

‘Oh, right,’ Olivia muttered, feeling slightly flustered by his uncanny ability to read her mind. Because of course she couldn’t have faced wearing anything left behind by any of his usual girlfriends,. Most of whom—if the glossy magazines were to be believed—consisted of glamorous film stars with truly amazing chest measurements.

‘Is there anything else I can do for you?’ he asked, moving slowly towards her.

‘No, I’m fine,’ she murmured, instinctively backing away from his advancing figure.

There really ought to be some sort of law to prevent highly attractive, sexy men from walking around practically stark naked, she told herself grimly. Because the sight of his tall figure in the deep red dressing gown—despite the fact that it was tightly belted about his slim waist—was enough to make any poor, susceptible woman feel distinctly lightheaded.

Viewing the soft, silky material clinging so closely to his damp body, emphasising his broad shoulders, slim hips and strong, muscular chest covered in dark curly hair, Olivia could almost physically feel her senses being assailed by his overpowering aura of sheer, rampant masculinity.

‘I think that I’ve got everything,’ she muttered helplessly, moistening her lips, which had suddenly become dry and parched. ‘I expect...I’m sure...that you must be as tired as I am...’ Her voice trailed away as she noticed his eyes gleaming with amusement at her obvious confusion.

‘Are you quite sure that you’ve got everything you want...?’ he drawled softly, the low, sensual note in his voice playing havoc with her nervous system, her pulse almost racing out of control as she took another step backwards.

But then, as she felt her spine jar against the wall beside the door, she made a desperate effort to pull herself together.

‘I—I’m not interested in playing stupid games,’ she told him as firmly as she could, bitterly aware of the breathless, hoarse note in her voice as she clutched the towel tightly about her slim figure. ‘So, will you please leave this room—and return to your own bedroom.’

‘Of course I will,’ he murmured, continuing to move forward until his figure was virtually touching her own. ‘I was merely intending to kiss you goodnight before I go.’

‘Cut it out—Dominic!’ she protested huskily as she felt the weight of his hard, firm body pressing her up against the wall. ‘I thought you’d promised not to lay a hand on me?’

‘You’re absolutely right!’ he agreed with a low rumble of laughter, before placing the palms of his hands flat on the wall either side of her head. ‘And I have every intention of keeping my promise,’ he murmured, leaning forward to brush his mouth across her quivering lips with a teasing, erotic sensuality that left her breathless with desire.

‘Goodnight, Olivia,’ he breathed softly against her mouth as his kiss deepened, his lips and tongue seducing her into a state of helpless, trembling rapture. And then, quite suddenly, he raised his dark head and she found herself released from the heavy pressure of his hard body.

For a brief, fleeting moment, it seemed as though the gleaming grey eyes held a strange message as he stared intently down at her, an oddly tense, strained expression on his handsome tanned face. But by the time she’d managed to pull her dazed mind and body together Olivia realised she must have been mistaken. Because he appeared to be regarding her with a perfectly normal, light smile on his lips.

‘I’ll see you in the morning,’ he murmured, running a finger gently down over her soft cheek before swiftly leaving the room.

CHAPTER THREE

DESPITE being tired, and weary from having been on her feet all day, Olivia found herself tossing and turning as she stared wide-eyed up at the ceiling of the guest room in Dominic’s house.

There seemed no immediate, obvious reason why she was finding it so difficult to go to sleep. Not only was it a very comfortable bed, but she’d also enjoyed the luxurious comfort of a hot bath: two of the items normally recommended for those seeking oblivion in sleep.

Sighing heavily, Olivia realised that there was no point in trying to fool herself any longer. Because that goodnight kiss from Dominic had left her feeling not only dazed but utterly shattered by her own response to the mere touch of his warm lips on hers. Even now, some hours later, her body still seemed to be trembling and throbbing with excitement, her senses aching with a mixture of desperate longing and thwarted desire.

Deeply ashamed of the fact that she’d made no protest—not even the mildest attempt to wriggle free from the heavy, muscular body which had been pressing her so closely to the wall—Olivia could feel her cheeks burning fiercely in the darkness. She seemed unable to prevent herself from recalling the heat of his flesh through his thin silk robe, and the clear evidence of his arousal matching her own, breathless excitement.

So it was no wonder she was finding it difficult to sleep all these hours later. Because it was Dominic, and the disastrous effect he was having on her long-dormant emotions, who clearly lay at the root of her problem.

Eventually giving up the unequal struggle, she threw back the sheet and blankets and slipped out of bed. Putting on the warm dressing gown, she padded across the carpet towards a large window on the far side of the room.

Drawing aside the heavy curtains and letting the bright moonlight flood into the room, she found herself gazing down on a formal town garden—a far cry from the rolling hills and valleys of the Kent countryside where both she and the owner of this large house had spent their childhood.

Because while it might have been ten years since she’d last seen Dominic FitzCharles, she had, in fact, known him all her life. With only a small stream dividing her family’s land from that of the huge Charlbury estate and its medieval Norman castle belonging to Dominic’s family, it wasn’t surprising that her own father, Lord Bibury, and the elderly Earl of Tenterden, had been both close neighbours and lifelong friends.

That was in the good old days, of course. When her mother had still been alive and her father had yet to lose virtually everything he possessed.

However, in what now seemed on looking back to have been a happy, golden childhood, both Olivia and her older brother, Hugo, had been on casual, friendly terms with the three FitzCharles children: the two older sisters, Blanche and Constance, and their much younger brother, Dominic.

Whether spending the summer riding freely over the lands of the Charlbury estate, or, at Christmas time, joining the children of other local families for the traditional Boxing Day party in the old castle, Olivia couldn’t remember a time when she hadn’t been wildly and foolishly in love with Dominic FitzCharles.

Not that he’d ever taken any notice of her, of course. And why should he have, when she was five years younger than he was? An almost insuperable gulf when she’d been an awkward thirteen-year-old and he a glamorous, if wild young man of eighteen, roaring around the countryside in a fast sports car and already capable of breaking the hearts of so many pretty young girls.

And then, following her mother’s death when Olivia was aged fourteen, her whole life had dramatically changed.

The advent of a new stepmother, Pamela, whom her father had married only a year after his first wife’s death, had devastated both her brother Hugo and herself. Particularly when her stepmother had lost no time in packing Olivia off to a strict boarding school, which had left the young girl feeling utterly rejected and bitterly unhappy.

Arriving when most of the other girls had already made friends with one another, Olivia had been thoroughly miserable, rapidly becoming a difficult, turbulent teenager, seemingly determined to cause as much trouble as possible. Although if her life at school had been bad enough, her home—when she returned for the holidays—had hardly been much better.

Her father, a charming but weak man, had allowed himself to become totally dominated by the woman whom Olivia had referred to openly as her ‘wicked stepmother’.

It was possible, of course, that she’d been unfair about Pamela—although the older woman’s subsequent history had merely underlined her stepdaughter’s sharp dislike and distrust. However, as a teenager, every issue had seemed quite clearly either black or white—with Olivia refusing to accept that there might be a point of view other than her own, and being as difficult and obstructive as possible. And so, fighting her stepmother every inch of the way, it had seemed as if her previously happy, secure home had become a cold, grim battlefield.

Nevertheless, Olivia now knew that she’d been much luckier than many children raised in a town environment. At least she’d been able to escape from her unhappy home life by hiding in the barns of the home farm during the winter. While, during the summer, she’d only had to grab a can of some fizzy drink and make up some sandwiches before saddling up her pony, Rufus, and going off to spend a day roaming around the countryside.

And it had been in the summer just before she’d turned eighteen that she’d often seen the distant figure of Dominic FitzCharles riding about the large estate which he’d recently inherited, following his elderly father’s death the previous year.

Local gossip had been full of stories of how Dominic was busy sowing his wild oats, both in Charlbury itself and at Cirencester Agricultural College, where he’d been learning up-to-date techniques of land management. In fact, it had probably been his reputation for youthful wild behaviour—coupled with the exciting reports of the thrillingly dangerous, lethal damage he’d been causing to young female hearts—which had added to his attraction.