The Pleasures of Spring (28 page)

Roz splashed water over her face, not caring that it was ruining her make-up. The door to the ladies room opened and footsteps sounded on the tiled floor. Please don’t be Poppy. Roz lifted her head and saw the last person she wanted to see. Philomena O’Sullivan.

‘I didn’t mean to upset you. Mrs Campbell McTavish caught me off guard with all the talk about weddings.’

‘I bet you’re relieved you won’t be doing it.’ Roz couldn’t resist biting back. How dare her grandmother pretend that she actually cared about her at the table? It was all for show. Don’t sully the precious O’Sullivan name in public.

Philomena stiffened. ‘Nonsense. Didn’t I do the weddings for the other girls?’

This was too much. She couldn’t control herself any longer. Roz glared. ‘I wouldn’t know. I didn’t get an invite.’

For a moment she thought there was a flash of hurt in the faded blue eyes. Eyes, she realized, that must have been the exact colour of her own fifty years ago.

Then the older woman squared her shoulders. ‘I’m your grandmother, young lady. The only one you have. And you will not take that tone with me.’

Roz gasped. ‘How dare you? This is the first time we’ve met. You have no right to tell me what to do.’

‘As Tim said, you knew where I was. You could have contacted me at any time.’

Roz could hardly believe her attitude. How dare she do this? How dare she pretend that she would have welcomed
her? The O’Sullivans never gave a damn about her. ‘Oh yes, I’ll go crawling to the woman who threw her own daughter out of the house. You killed my mother.’

The older woman’s face blanched with shock. ‘I did not.’

‘You told my mother that if she stayed with my father, you would have nothing to do with her. You told her she wasn’t welcome in your home. Her home.’

For long seconds, Philomena held Roz’s gaze. A single tear rolled down her powdered face and she didn’t bother to wipe it away. ‘Whatever you’ve been told about me, I loved my daughter. Maggie was a hothead, always getting into trouble and I didn’t handle her well.’ Her eyes clouded and she shook her head. ‘We were too alike.’

There was a betraying quiver in her voice, and despite herself, Roz was shaken. She patted the old woman’s shoulder, unable to think of anything to say. When her father talked about her, Philomena O’Sullivan was a virago, a fire-breathing dragon, not a tearful old woman.

Philomena gathered herself. ‘Maggie was a beautiful girl. She could have had anyone she wanted. I couldn’t bear to watch her throw herself away on a useless bla’gard like him.’

Roz snatched her hand back. ‘That useless bla’gard is my father.’

How dare she blame her father for what happened? Roz turned and marched back into the large dining room, furious at the entire O’Sullivan family. She had almost fallen for it. Almost believed that they weren’t a crowd of new-money, snobbish bastards.

Roz paused at the entrance to take a deep breath and calm down. The price for Nagsy had just gone up. Forget
half a million. Roz was going to take Tim O’Sullivan for at least a million. She was going to take every spare penny he had, and when it was over, she would tell everyone and make him a laughing stock. It would serve him right. It would serve all of them right.

She pushed open the door to the ballroom. In her absence, the orchestra had tuned up and started to play.

She saw Anton Fox heading straight for her, and decided she couldn’t deal with him without a whip in her hand. Instead, she made a beeline for Rory Baxter. ‘I have a sudden urge to dance,’ she told him.

Mesmerized, and ignoring Ariana, he rose to his feet and held out his arms to her. She smiled as they took to the dance floor.

The traffic on the road back north drove Andy crazy. It was the weekend, and every lunatic in the city seemed determined to get in his way. He took one hand off the wheel to rub his jaw. It ached from the punch Hall had landed. His parents would go crazy when they saw the state of his face.

He was looking forward to relaxing when he got home. His parents would be at the ball, and Roz would be there all on her own. Wicked ideas of what he could do to her made him smile. As soon as Maggie left, he was going to chase a naked Roz around the house, armed with a bottle of oil and a feather duster. He wondered how fast she would run.

And after that, they would have to talk.

He had no clue what he was going to say to her. A declaration of love would make her laugh her head off and he couldn’t blame her. Mr Love ’em and leave ’em didn’t have a plan for this – fate, karma, or whatever it was that had turned around and bitten him on the ass.

Andy thought of the women before her. He remembered most of their names – he wasn’t a complete bastard – and wondered if any of them, well, any of them other than Ariana, had ever cared for him, or whether he was no more than a passing fancy. The thought set off another ache in his jaw. Damn Roz for making him feel like this.

The traffic ground to a halt and a chorus of beeping horns sounded, followed by the sound of a siren. Accident. He was going to be late.

It was dark by the time he arrived at Lough Darra. The lights in the library were off. Good. His parents had already left. Grabbing his bag from the trunk, he headed into the kitchen. ‘Hi, Maggie.’

‘Oh, you’ve missed them. Poppy had to drive and she wasn’t too pleased. You know how she hates driving that antique thing.’

‘The Rolls?’ The Phantom was a souvenir from his grandfather’s time. It was a beautiful car if you didn’t like heating or air conditioning, and apart from the occasional car rally, it rarely came out of the garage.

‘Well, your dad said that it was a special occasion. He had the lads polishing it all day.’

Andy grinned. Dougal was worse than an army sergeant and there was quite a lot of chrome on the Phantom. His stomach growled. He had missed lunch and something bubbling away on the top of the range smelled appetizing. ‘Has Roz eaten yet?’

A puzzled look crossed Maggie’s face. ‘Eaten? No. Sure, they’ll be having a five course dinner at the ball.’

‘She went with them?’ He had warned her that the place would be full of photographers. The last thing they needed was Hall making an appearance at Lough Darra.

‘Oh, she looked beautiful. Poppy made Dougal take a photo of the pair of them together. Your mother was so proud of her.’

Fuck. He was going to tan Roz’s hide when he got his hands on her.

‘Will you be wanting dinner?’

‘No thanks. It looks like I’m going to a ball.’

Andy dashed upstairs and had a tepid shower. He riffled through his wardrobe until he found a tux. Slinging a bow tie around his neck, he raced downstairs again, almost colliding with a startled Maggie in the hall.

‘Don’t wait up.’

Ignoring the speed limit, he kept his foot to the floor until he reached the FitzWilliam hotel. The former mansion was now a five-star hotel favoured by visiting heads of state and golfers with more money than sense. He tossed his car keys to the valet stationed at the entrance and made his way inside.

At the entrance to the ballroom, he paused, scanning the tables until he found the one he wanted. Andy whistled under his breath. Holy hell. His parents, Tim O’Sullivan and his mother, the French minister for something or other – he couldn’t remember her name – and Anton Fox. He hadn’t seen him since the party at Versailles. What was that bastard doing here? Roz must think she’d fallen into the seventh circle of hell.

And speaking of hell, where was she?

The small orchestra was playing a waltz. Older couples circled the floor sedately while the show-offs displayed their best
Strictly
moves. At the centre of the floor one couple moved gracefully. The figure-hugging dress flared out around her calves as she moved. The demure jewelled collar was the only thing that stopped the dress being indecent. He made a mental note that she wasn’t allowed to wear such an outrageous garment in public again, not unless he was with her. Some of her hair was artfully
pinned with silver stars that sparkled under the lights. The rest of her curls cascaded down her bare back like a Titian waterfall.

Rory fucking Baxter was touching Roz. No one was permitted to do that except him.

As Andy watched, Rory bent his head to whisper something in her ear and she threw back her head and laughed.

Andy was going to kill him.

‘Welcome, sir.’ The maître d’ obscured his vision of the dancing pair and Andy was temporarily dragged away from his homicidal fantasies. ‘I’m afraid you’re a little late for dinner. Can I get the chef to prepare something for you?’

As if on cue, his gut rumbled again. He couldn’t beat Baxter to death on an empty stomach and there was one guaranteed cure for the munchies. ‘I’ll have a basket of bread and a cheese plate, please. And some brown sauce.’

‘Brown sauce?’ The man’s horrified expression was quickly hidden behind a polite mask. This was a five-star hotel, after all. Nothing was too much trouble for a guest, even one with a battered face, not as long as he was wearing a tuxedo.

‘Yep,’ Andy replied, taking perverse enjoyment from the maître d’s discomfort. ‘The kind that comes in a bottle will do fine. Drop it over to table ten.’

Andy made his way carefully around the outskirts of the ballroom. There was no point in alerting Fred and Ginger that he was here. Nodding to the other guests, he kissed his mother on the cheek and ignored her hissed questions about his appearance. He didn’t take his eyes off the dance floor for a moment.

He would eat, then he would deal with Roz.

The music changed to a sultry rumba and Andy smiled. He was willing to bet that Rory didn’t do Latin American. The guy waltzed as if he had a poker up his ass. It was time to lock on to his target.

As he left his chair, his mother placed a warning hand on his arm. She glanced at the dance floor where Rory and Roz were swaying. ‘Andrew, I know you’ve had some sort of argument, but –’

‘Don’t worry, Mum. I’m only going to dance.’

He approached the couple with the stealth of a predator. Roz had her back to him. Either she hadn’t noticed his arrival or she was doing a damn fine job of ignoring him. Rory spotted him first. From his shocked expression, his face must be worse than he’d thought.

Andy tapped Roz on the shoulder and she whirled around. Up close, he could see that the dress was a perfect match for her eyes. The expression ‘hotter than hell’ popped into his head, but the facial expression that greeted him was colder than ice.

‘Care to dance?’ He didn’t wait for her to reply, but pulled her into his arms. Automatically, she placed her hand on his shoulder and before she could protest, he whirled her onto the dance floor.

He was a good dancer, but she was better. Roz lived the music. She had a natural rhythm that drew the eye of every man in the place. If it weren’t for the storm brewing in her eyes, it would have been one of the most erotic experiences of his life. Andy pulled her closer. He’d almost forgotten how good it was to hold her in his arms.
Drawing a deep breath, he inhaled the fragrance of her hair. Her scent was soft, like flowers. ‘Miss me, baby?’

She held herself stiff and unyielding in his hold. ‘Not a bit, but I’m sure Abbie Marshall does. Why don’t you go back to her?’

‘Because I don’t want her and, besides, Jack would probably kill me.’

‘Are they selling tickets? I’d pay money to see that.’

Roz almost managed to twirl out of his arms, but he yanked her back and clamped his hand around her wrist, holding her tightly against him. ‘That sounds like jealousy,’ he murmured against her ear.

She pulled away from his embrace. ‘I’ve known from the start exactly what you were. Any woman that falls for you would have to be crazy. Why should I be jealous?’ Her glare would have melted a glacier. ‘Don’t flatter yourself. This
thing
between us is nothing more than fucking. We had fun and now it’s over.’

Ouch. She didn’t believe in pulling her punches, but Andy could sense the hurt welling behind her words. Something had happened. It would take more than a Photoshopped picture in a tabloid newspaper to make her this mad at him.

Her cheeks flared with colour as she continued, ‘I’ve had enough of you and your imbecile friends. I’ll be glad to get back to Paris.’

‘That’s what we need to talk about.’ He glanced around him. They were drawing attention and it wasn’t entirely to do with the way they were dancing. ‘But not here. Let’s go to the lobby.’

‘If it will stop you clomping all over my feet, I’d be happy to.’ She twisted out of his arms and headed for the door.

Ignoring the bemused stares of the other dancers, Andy followed her.

The lobby was thronged with a party of golfers checking in with enough equipment for a tournament. Andy glanced around, searching for a quiet spot to talk but he was out of luck. They needed somewhere private. A wicked grin curled his mouth. He knew the very place. Placing his hand in the small of her back, he propelled her towards the exit.

Outside, the air was crisp and cold. The warmth of the spring day had faded to a wintery evening. A gust of wind caught the hem of her dress and set it fluttering. Roz shivered.

‘Will this take long? I’ll freeze to death out here dressed like this.’

Andy shrugged out of his tux and draped it around her shoulders. Maybe cooling down would do them both good. He guided her along the gravelled path towards the artificial lake. It had been one of his favourite playgrounds when he was growing up. Interminable Sunday lunches had been made bearable when he and Robert were released to play in the ‘jungle’.

Back then, there had been ornate metal seats at intervals around the water. He hoped they were still there. As they walked, the music from the ballroom faded into the distance. A mournful saxophone solo echoed across inky black water. It would have been the perfect romantic setting for a proposal.

Except that she was mad at him.

The power of speech deserted him. Was that what he was about to do? Ask Roz to marry him? That might be a bit hasty, but they could live together in France until the trial was over. The prospect both thrilled and terrified him.

She stumbled and he offered her his arm to steady her. ‘Bloody stones,’ she muttered. ‘What is so important that you had to drag me away from the ball?’

‘You’re supposed to be at home. What happened to avoiding the media and staying safe?’

‘Sod the media. Have you any idea what it’s like to always be Cinderella?’

The bitterness in her voice made him wince. Compared to her sister Sinead and her wealthy cousin Summer, Tim’s daughter, Roz was the poor relation. But that didn’t give her an excuse to put herself in danger. ‘You might be the belle of the ball but I should put you across my knee for disobeying me.’

She whirled to face him. The rise and fall of her breasts beneath the fine silk of the dress made his cock ache. She might be the most infuriating, maddening, reckless woman in the world, but, god, she was beautiful. And she would be his.

‘Don’t even think about it. If you touch me I’ll –’

He didn’t wait for her to finish. Andy hauled her against him and took her mouth in a savage kiss. Roz gave a surprised squeak and wriggled in his arms, but he had no intention of letting her go. He had missed her, ached for her, worried that she was in danger and she had ignored his warnings to stay out of trouble.

He fisted one hand in her hair and tugged. Roz might
play at being in charge, but he knew how to get her attention. She stilled and her mouth softened ever so slightly. Taking advantage, he changed tactics, flicking his tongue against her lips, begging for entry.

She complied, opening to him with a soft murmur that set his heart racing. Her tongue duelled with his and she wound her arms around his neck. The jacket slipped from her shoulders onto the ground. Andy didn’t care. He was lost in her kiss, lost in her scent. Forever wasn’t long enough to kiss her.

A gust of wind blew across the lake. She would freeze if he didn’t get her back inside. Maybe they could get a room? He would order champagne and show her how much he had missed her. Reluctantly, he pulled away and stared into her deep blue eyes. ‘You make me crazy.’

‘Not half as crazy as you make me.’ She pressed her palms against his shoulders and shoved hard.

Andy caught a glimpse of grim satisfaction on her face as he pitched over backwards and his last thought before he hit the water was that it would be freezing. The icy shock knocked the breath from his lungs. He sank beneath the surface and got tangled in the plants growing from the bottom of the lake.

Andy gasped as he broke through a mass of leaves floating on the surface. Water lilies – the lake was full of them. He headed for shore, dragging the foliage with him. He was going to kill her. No, he was going to give her a bath in the lake and then spank the ass off her.