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Should she be craving such pleasure now? It was bizarre! It made a mockery of her engagement to Sean. This man’s tongue was locating erogenous zones inside her mouth that had her seizing his lapels. What in the world had taken possession of her? Maybe she was getting the pain and humiliation out of her system? More likely it was the sheer power of this man, the way he handled himself. Even as she clutched him, he moved her closer in.
She was receiving the full impact of his superb male body. A natural scent came off his skin—warm fine leather, sunshine, the great outdoors, just the right touch of aftershave. Both of them were behaving like lovers in the white-hot grip of passion. She had no history of such extravagant behaviour.
Did he?
One didn’t associate this unbridled behaviour with perfect strangers. It had to be something else. Both of them were playing a role. That was it! Playing it to the hilt! Either that or she had morphed into an entirely different person. Only as recent as five minutes ago, she had thought herself desperately unhappy. Now, heat was spreading through her body, into her stomach, plunging lower…
Oh, Amber, Amber, have a care!
Could shock and unhappiness derange a woman’s body as well as her brain? Did being jilted loosen a girl’s morals? Or was this a temporary state of dementia?
Whatever it was, the incandescent glow behind her eyes remained even when she was able to lift her heavy lids. She had never felt such sexual excitement with Sean. Now this tumultuous reaction with a kiss! Had it something to do with the dominant male? Had Sean been a subordinate male? She would have to give that a lot of thought. But it would have to be later on, when she was safely on her own.
“Well, it didn’t take us long to make friends,” he remarked with breathtaking coolness.
The tricky part was to find her voice. “Is that what it was? I thought it was more a spur of the moment bid to shut me up.”
“And there’s no doubt it worked! Further, Ms Wyatt, it was an absolute pleasure.”
“You could have shown a bit more restraint.” She put a trembling hand to her mussed hair.
“Don’t be picky. You were going for broke. Anyway, don’t let’s worry about it. Look, your beautiful hat has floated off.” It was now wedged in a cool dark corner, the petals of the pink and cream silk roses softly gleaming. He moved in what seemed like slow motion to pick it up, brushing off a speck of dust before restoring it to her. Amber, never short of a word, couldn’t even utter thankyou. Her heart was pounding hard and fast. Her legs were weak. Had there been a smoke alarm in the loft, she was sure it would have gone off. What did it all mean?
Cal found himself stretching out a hand to smooth her glowing hair. It was in disarray and such an indescribable shade! Tone on tone, from golden through to dark copper with glossy strands of apricot and Titian woven through. She wore it pulled back into a lustrous updated chignon—appropriate, he supposed, when wearing a picture hat like that.
“Look, I’m sorry,” he said, when he clearly wasn’t. “But it seemed like a good idea at the time. I had to stop you. Whatever you had in mind, you would only have regretted later.”
“Is that an apology?”
“Could be.” His laugh was slightly off-key. “Maybe we can discuss it more fully over dinner?”
She drew back, astonished. “Wh-a-a-t?”
“Not a trick question. Let me break it down. Are—you—free—for—dinner?”
“Are you serious?” Her beautiful golden eyes grew huge.
“Of course I am.” He smiled at her confusion. “We can relax now. It’s all over.”
“So it is.” Amber exhaled a deep sigh. “So what do we do now?”
“Well, I’m up for anything,” he mocked. “We could continue kissing until you can’t remember you ever had a fiancé?”
“Who is now married to your cousin. Thank you, but no, Mr MacFarlane. I don’t think you could top the first kiss anyway.”
“Well, I’d like to give it a shot,” he returned smoothly. “You’re not still looking for a husband, are you?”
She met the sparkling ironic gaze that was fairly centred on her. “I could very well remain married to a career. I may have climbed the ladder in television, but actually I want to be a writer. You know, another Colleen McCullough. Love her.”
“Another Thorn Birds?”
“I wish! But I can write.”
“You might have to make a start after today,” he suggested dryly. He may have prevented Ms Wyatt from causing further disturbance and bringing down the full force of Rosemary’s wrath on her beautiful head, but a lot of people had marked her imprudent attendance. Cal had a hollow feeling that there could be unpleasant repercussions for Ms Amber Wyatt. They were a vengeful lot, the Erskines.
“Is that a warning?”
“I’m putting you on your guard.” He looked serious.
“I see. Your dear aunt was giving me the evil eye.”
“Aunt by marriage,” he corrected.
“Well, she does lack your style. I take it one wouldn’t want to cross her.”
“Believe me, when Rosemary is crossed, heads roll.”
“That’s the downside of having too much money,” Amber murmured caustically. “I can’t imagine her getting the better of you.”
“Well, I do have the advantage of living well over a thousand miles away. But don’t worry, Ms Wyatt, I’m going to put in a good word for you.”
“Why, exactly?” She stared up at him. It was, she found, a very pleasant sensation. He made her feel almost petite.
“I was engaged once,” he remarked, offhandedly. “I didn’t exactly catch my fiancée in the arms of her stop-gap lover, but a good friend of mine happened to bump into them when they were taking a little holiday together in Bangkok. That’s classified information, by the way.”
“My lips are sealed.” Amber made a little sealing gesture with her pearl-tipped fingers, astonished by his admission. “How could she possibly have preferred the other guy to you?”
His laugh was off-key. “Thanks for that little vote of confidence, Ms Wyatt. You would have to understand my ex-fiancée. Sexual encounters on the side she didn’t regard as meaningful.”
“But it was the end of the engagement for you?”
“Most definitely, though she tells it differently. That, again, is between the two of us, okay?”
She nodded. “Mr MacFarlane, I am to be trusted. Besides, I owe you one. So what now?”
He looked down into the fast emptying church. “You stay here until the church clears. I have to join the family—stick around until the happy couple embark on their wedded bliss.”
“They’ve already done that,” Amber said tartly. “Don’t be surprised if Sean takes it into his head to run off with one of the bridesmaids.” She settled her lovely picture hat back on her head, looking at him to check the angle. “Have I got it right?”
“Perfect! No woman could look more ravishing. Now, you can follow when the coast is clear. Everyone will be focused on getting to the reception. You should be able to make your escape.”
“I didn’t come here to make a spectacle of myself, you know.” Suddenly she wanted to explain herself to him. She didn’t want him to think badly of her. “Or disrupt the service, as you seemed to think. Sean really deserved it, but that wasn’t my intention. That would have been cruel and I’m not a cruel person. The plan was to calmly walk out when the Bishop called for any objections—you know the bit—but I just felt so angry I momentarily lost control.”
“You’re free of him now.”
“So I am.” She couldn’t conceal the bitterness and the pain.
“So what about dinner?” He repeated the invitation bracingly, as if dinner would be a form of therapy. “Are you up for it? I think it might do you a lot of good to be seen out on the town enjoying yourself. Or making a good show of it.”
She felt a moment of turmoil, not knowing if it was a good or a bad thing. Was it possible she was getting into very deep water? Being with Sean, it had only come up to her ankles, she now realised. “Why are you being so kind?”
“I’m not being kind. Not at all.” He cast a quick look at the near-empty pews. “I just don’t feel ready to say goodbye to you, Ms Wyatt. That’s all. I fly home in a few days.”
“In your own little Airbus?” She lifted her high arching brows. “It’s so nice to be rich.”
“I assure you it’s quite an effort holding on to it. However, where I come from, having your own plane is a necessity, not a rich man’s toy. I have a couple of helicopters as well.”
“I’m terrified of those,” she said. “I was involved in a scare in the TV station’s chopper some months ago. Anyway, aren’t you supposed to be attending the reception? It will go on for hours and hours.”
“Not for me it won’t,” he said firmly. “Where do you live?”
She held up her hands. “Please…no. This is madness!” She wasn’t at all sure she could handle a man like this. Sean had been one thing. This man was really, really something else.
“Maybe that’s why I like it.” He smiled. “Address, please?” He checked again on the remaining number of guests. Maybe a dozen. The organist was still playing triumphantly, although the soprano, probably with perforated eardrums, had made her escape.
“I don’t know if this is a good idea.” Amber, who never dithered, dithered. How could a woman feel like jumping off a cliff one minute and be going out to dinner with a handsome stranger the next? But then she realized that it did happen.
“Just give me your address,” he prompted.
Bemusedly, she did so. She might need him to put in a good word for her with his Godzilla of an aunt by marriage.
“I’ll pick you up at nine,” he informed her briskly. “I’ll be able to make it by then. You’ll feel better if you’re out and about.”
“Just don’t alert the paparazzi.”
He laughed, lifted a hand in salute, then began moving lithely down the flight of stairs.
His grandfather, accompanied by Rosemary, lost no time in seeking him out. They looked an incongruous duo, propelling their way towards him like two ocean-going liners breasting the high seas. Rosemary was a big woman who had become ever more substantial over the years. She towered over her father-in-law. But whereas Rosemary had reduced her doomed husband, Ian, to a tiny planet in orbit around her, his formidable grandfather radiated power, authority and a kind of physical indestructibility.
It had always been like that. Cal’s mother, the bolter, Stephanie, was Sir Clive’s only daughter. Her brother, Ian, was Georgie’s father, the only son. Their mother, Rochelle, had been killed a week after her fortieth birthday when her high-powered sports car, a birthday present, had slammed into a brick wall, doing one hundred miles per hour. Ian had taken after his father in looks if nothing else; Stephanie had inherited Rochelle’s beauty, wit and high octane nature. Stephanie had been idolized by Sir Clive and endlessly indulged, whereas Ian had never been able to cope with a stern and exacting father’s expectations and demands.
Georgie, the Erskine heiress, had never worked a day in her life. But then she hadn’t lived a life devoted exclusively to the pursuit of pleasure either. Georgie, like her father, lived her life under Rosemary’s thumb. How then had a moral lightweight like Sinclair hoodwinked Rosemary, let alone his grandfather, into thinking he would make Georgie a good husband? Cal had believed them more than capable of sniffing out a rat. Well, they would know soon enough. Ms Amber Wyatt had made a very lucky escape. He didn’t doubt that for a minute.
His grandfather laid a steely hand on his arm. “I want to thank you, Cal, for getting that outrageous young woman out of harm’s way. What was she thinking of, coming to the church? Simply not done!” he huffed. “Especially not to me or my family. She’d behaved herself up until now. I had every intention of offering her a holiday. Anywhere in the world she cared to go. Certainly not now. That’s gone by the board.” He nodded his large balding head several times, then pulled his right ear lobe.
“Why not forget it?” Cal suggested. “Maybe she shouldn’t have turned out for the wedding, but she must have taken the public humiliation hard. A lot of women in her shoes might have been prepared to do a whole lot worse.”
“That was bad enough,” Sir Clive grunted, still red in the face. “You’re not defending her, surely, m’boy?”
“I suppose I am,” Cal admitted. He was in no way intimidated by his authoritarian maternal grandfather. Not even as a child.
“I can’t believe this!” Rosemary shook with rage. “Seeing that girl arrive was almost the death of me. To think she would try to spoil our Georgie’s big day!”
“It could have been a lot worse,” Cal said provocatively. “As I understand it, Ms Wyatt has drawn a lot of public sympathy.”
“Cheap! She’s cheap, cheap, cheap!” Rosemary glared back, shoulders shuddering. “Of course she’s very beautiful.”
“Dangerously so,” he suavely agreed. “But she didn’t intend to do anything too dreadful.”
“That’s your view, is it?” Sir Clive gave a sudden bark. He stared back at Cal as if he had suddenly gone mad. Worse—disloyal. “This was your cousin’s—my granddaughter’s—big day, might I remind you, Cal? A bloody fortune has gone into it.” Even he had been gobsmacked by the cost.
“You know it was well worth it, Grandfather, dear,” Rosemary appealed to her father-in-law, who had fronted the monumental bill.
That didn’t curb Sir Clive’s rage. “That young lady made one very big mistake today. It has turned me against her. The whole thing will be reported in the newspapers. I don’t take kindly to being made a fool of. What exactly did she intend to do?”
“Nothing really. She just took it into her head to attend.”
“You’re covering for her, Callum,” Rosemary said with fierce disapproval. “There’s only one explanation—she intended to cause a massive scene. You couldn’t let her do that.”
“No, of course I couldn’t,” Cal agreed quietly; he had known Ms Amber Wyatt was a bundle of trouble from the moment he had laid eyes on her. “But I’m defending her because she came quietly. Always a good sign. If she were as bad as you seem to think, she could have turned on quite a show. Instead, she let me escort her up to the organ loft.”
Rosemary showed her mean eyes. “I think it had more to do with the fact she knew she wasn’t any match for you. All through the ceremony my Georgie would have been frantic with worry. Sean too. Which brings me to why he said he had to be free of her.”
Cal kept his eyes fixed on Rosemary’s face. “Do tell, Rosemary. You’re dying to. Why did your son-in-law have to make the break? A physical description of Ms Wyatt would have to be glorious.”
“Be careful you’re not giving yourself away, Callum,” Rosemary retaliated, nostrils flaring. “You always were susceptible to a beautiful woman. Take Brooke now—”
“That will do, Rosemary,” Sir Clive sternly intervened. “Kindly remember this is my grandson you’re talking to. Brooke Rowlands wasn’t anywhere near good enough for Callum. Now, we have to go in to our guests. This is supposed to be a joyous occasion. I have to tell you I’m none too happy about Georgie’s new husband, but the deed is done. We would have had to admit her to a psychiatric facility if any of us had tried to stop her. That doesn’t excuse Ms Wyatt’s part in the day’s proceedings, however. She looks such a lady too. I’m disappointed. However, for this outrage she might find herself behind the cameras for a while. Give her time to reflect.”
It was as good as done, Cal thought. His grandfather was way too powerful.
CHAPTER THREE
AMBER had only been inside her apartment six or seven minutes when Jono knocked on the door, his mobile face bright with anticipation.
“Well, how did it go?”
Amber stood back, waving him in. “It was very, very sad.”
“Really?” Jono spun. “What happened? Remember you can’t keep it private, sweetie.”
Amber led him into the stylishly decorated living room. “Like a coffee or something?”
“Let me make it. You just sit down and talk to me. You don’t look sad.”
“Oh, how do I look?” She was quite unaware that she looked radiant from head to toe.
“Like you’ve just met some new guy, hot on the heels of the old?”
“What makes you think I want a new guy?”
“You mightn’t think so now, dear, but you will,” Jono told her with certainty. “When that dirty rotten scoundrel Sean committed to being a love rat he made up his mind to be the best one around. But there are good men out there, Amby. Never doubt it. Sometimes I wish I weren’t gay.”
“Don’t tell Jett that.” She had to smile. She did a lot of smiling when Jono and his partner, Jett, a fellow computer whiz, were around. “But there was a new guy. The bride’s cousin, of all things. He was the one who dealt with me.”
“Lord sakes! He didn’t chuck you out?” Jono paused in what he was doing.
“No. He whisked me off to the organ loft and stayed with me throughout. He’s a Cattle Baron by name of Cal MacFarlane.”
