to you properly? And I would. I would have done it to you right there and then in the lift, Romy.’
Romy’s cheeks flamed. She doubted whether he had ever spoken quite so crudely to another woman. And the trouble was that she didn’t even dare to deny his words, not even to herself. Because she suspected that they were true. Would they have done? Made love in the lift? With the possibility that they could have been discovered at any moment?
‘Then, when no word came that the wedding was to be cancelled, I naturally assumed that you had not had the courage to tell Mark either,’ he continued inexorably. ‘So I thought you wouldn’t show up at the church.’ He shook his head from side to side, as if the memory still had the power to astound him, even after all this time.
‘I couldn’t believe it when I saw you tripping down the aisle towards us,’ he ground out bitterly. ‘With that virginal white veil covering your cheating face! It took every effort of will I possessed not to shout the truth to the rafters when the vicar asked if anyone knew of any just impediment why you should not wed—’
‘Why didn’t you?’ she whispered.
He shook his head again and met her eyes with an accusing silver stare. ‘God only knows. Because of Mark, I guess. Because I could not bear to inflict such hurt on him.’
Romy felt strangely calm. She was still alive, after all. Still breathing. He had berated her, clearly hated her, and she had let him get it all out of his system. Like removing poison from a festering sore. It was when things were left unsaid that they caused most damage.
And surely if he continued to show how much he despised her then that would kill all her residual feelings for him stone-dead? For surely she couldn’t still hanker after a man who thought she was the lowest of the low?
Automatically, even though she had not eaten, she dabbed at the corners of her mouth with the heavy damask napkin and gave him her most professional smile.
‘It’s getting rather late, Dominic...’ Good, Romy, she thought. Good! She had used just the right mixture of apology and regret—as she would to any client if the evening was drawing to an end. ‘And I think it’s time I was going.’
She saw him frown. He had probably been expecting a hysterical little outburst, she decided with a distinct feeling of triumph.
She composed her face into a placid mask. ‘It might be best if you could have a list of your guests drawn up and sent over—with any of their known likes and dislikes. Anything I’m not entirely sure about.’
She stood up and prepared to make a dramatic exit. ‘I’ll pay the bill on my way out.’
‘Don’t bother. I settled it in advance when I arrived.’
‘You shouldn’t have done that,’ she objected.
‘But why wouldn’t I? After all, it was purely business.’ His eyes glittered. ‘Wasn’t it?’
‘Well, it certainly wasn’t pleasure!’ she snapped back.
He gave a benign smile. ‘So you see, Romy, there was really no need to scrimp and only eat pasta. You could have ordered the most expensive thing on the menu and I wouldn’t have batted an eyelid!’
Fury bubbled up inside her. So he was accusing her of being mean now, was he? She itched to empty the remains of the Bardolino bottle over his head, or to up-end the bread basket all over those thick ebony waves.
‘I can assure you that my choice was not dictated by economy!’ she told him. ‘As it happens, I eat so much rich food in the course of my work that I always opt for something plain when I get the opportunity.’
‘Just a simple girl at heart?’ he mocked.
‘Yes. Simply dying to get away from you!’
‘And at home?’ he murmured. ‘Does London’s finest party planner knock up lots of cosy candlelit suppers for two?’
Well, there was no need to make it sound as though she was running a brothel! ‘I hate to disillusion you, Dominic,’ she told him drily, ‘but I seem to exist on ready-made salads and chocolate mousse, eaten on the run. I’m much too busy for candlelit suppers.’
He gave her a frankly disbelieving smile. ‘Except for tonight, of course. And yet you’ve hardly touched a thing,’ he observed, glancing down at her plate.
‘No.’ Romy gave an exaggerated sigh. ‘Unfortunately I had no appetite—but then, that’s not really surprising.’
‘Oh?’
Her smile was icy. ‘You see, Dominic, I really do need a stimulating dinner companion in order to eat with any kind of enjoyment—boredom just kills my appetite stone-dead.’
He had risen too, so that now he towered over her, all dark masculine power which stirred some powerful response deep in her body. And there didn’t seem to be a damned thing she could do about it!
‘Stimulating, you say?’ he murmured silkily. ‘Well, that’s easily remedied. Why don’t you come home with me tonight, Romy? And I’ll show you that they don’t come any more stimulating than me...’.
And, even though a million smart comments had sprung to her lips, Romy took the coward’s way out.
She fled.
When Romy walked into her flat, it was twenty past midnight and the telephone was ringing. And she knew who it would be even as she picked the receiver up.
‘Romy?’
She was right. No one else of her acquaintance had a voice that deep and that sexy.
‘Hello, Dominic,’ she answered.
‘You left in rather a hurry, Romy.’
‘Understatement of the year,’ she observed sarcastically.
He laughed. ‘Some people might have interpreted that as a desire to terminate our agreement.’
‘They might,’ she agreed crisply.
‘And are you going to?’
‘No.’ Her reply was thoughtful; she knew that if she backed out now the matter of Dominic Dashwood would remain unresolved for the rest of her life.
Maybe Stephanie was right. If she didn’t get him out of her system once and for all then maybe she would spend the rest of her life alone. And who in their right mind wanted that?
‘But I must have your agreement on several issues first.’
‘You drive a hard bargain, for someone who is supposed to be the employee,’ came the dry response.
‘It isn’t a rigid relationship like that, Dominic,’ she corrected him acidly. ‘If I’m organising events in your home then we need to be flexible about the roles we’re each going to be playing.’
‘Oh, really? Now that does sound interesting,’ he murmured.
Romy heard his voice deepen and her skin iced into goosebumps in immediate response. It really was astonishing how your body could betray you, she thought as that familiar stinging pleasure began to tighten her nipples. Why, she was virtually melting just at the sound of his voice!
‘As well as being issued with a budget and the guest list I mentioned earlier, I need to know...’ Her voice faltered as she wondered if he would choose to misinterpret the question.
‘Know what, Romy?’ he prompted sardonically.
She chose her words carefully. ‘Whether you will have a—a... woman there.’
‘A woman? Why, yes!’ An undercurrent of mockery coloured his reply. ‘There will be five women there, as it happens.’
If Romy had been a tiger, she would have snarled. ‘You’re deliberately misunderstanding my question!’
‘Maybe