The Baby Claim. Catherine GeorgeЧитать онлайн книгу.
‘Not if you’d prefer to stay,’ she said indifferently, but hoped he would. In the dim light all she could make out was the man’s impressive height, topped by a strong-featured face under thick dark hair. But what she could see she liked very much.
‘Take this.’ He shrugged out of his jacket and draped it round her shoulders, enveloping her in a warm aura of healthy male spiked with spice and citrus. ‘Otherwise you might get pneumonia in that dress,’ he said, his voice a tone deeper.
Joss gave a laugh rendered slightly breathless by the intimacy of the gesture. ‘You don’t approve of my dress?’
‘No.’
‘Why not?’
‘If you were mine I wouldn’t let you out in it.’
Joss gave him a sub-zero stare. ‘Really!’
‘I’m not famous for tact,’ he said, lips twitching. ‘You asked a question and I answered it.’
‘True,’ she acknowledged, and thawed a little. ‘The dress was very expensive, in honour of the occasion. I like it.’
‘So do I!’
The dress was an ankle-length tube of black crêpe de Chine, edged with lace at the hem and across the breasts, held up by fragile straps and side-slit to the knee. Joss looked down at herself, then shot an amused look at her companion. ‘But you don’t approve?’
‘No.’
‘And I was so sure I looked good in it,’ she said with mock regret.
‘Every man present thinks you look sensational,’ he assured her.
‘Except you.’
‘Especially me. But it’s a very ambiguous dress.’
Joss found she was enjoying herself. ‘A strange word to describe a frock.’
His deep-throated chuckle vibrated right through the fine bespoke suiting, sending a trickle of reaction down her bare spine.
‘It may be a party dress to you,’ he went on, ‘but to me it smacks of the bedroom.’
Her chin lifted. ‘I assure you it’s not a nightgown. I don’t sleep in this kind of thing.’
‘Which makes me even more curious about what you do—or don’t—sleep in,’ he said softly, sending a second trickle down her spine to join the first.
‘We shouldn’t be having this conversation,’ she said brusquely.
‘Why?’
‘We’ve never met before.’
‘Then let’s introduce ourselves.’ He took her hand in a hard, warm clasp. ‘Tell me your name.’
Joss stared down at their hands, amazed to find herself flustered by his touch. ‘Let’s not get into names,’ she said, after a moment. ‘I don’t want to be me tonight. Just call me—Eve.’
‘Then I’ll be Adam.’ He shook her hand formally. ‘The party’s almost over. Take pity on a lonely stranger, Miss Eve, and have supper with me.’
Joss gave him a very straight look. ‘I thought you came with a friend.’
‘I did. He won’t mind.’ He bent his head to look in her eyes. ‘What was your original plan for the evening?’
Joss turned back to the view. ‘Originally I did have a date for tonight,’ she admitted shortly. ‘But it fell through. Which accounts for the lack of party spirit. Consequently—Adam—I don’t much fancy bright lights and a restaurant.’
‘Then I’ll get a meal sent up to my room here,’ he said promptly, and grinned at the incensed look she shot at him. ‘All I offer—and expect—is dinner, Eve.’
‘If I say yes to a meal in your room,’ she said bluntly, ‘you might expect a lot more than that.’
‘I was watching you long before you vanished out here,’ he reminded her. ‘I know you’re not the archetypal party girl out for a good time.’
‘Do you?’ Joss detached her hand and gave him his jacket. ‘But you have the advantage, Adam. If you watched me earlier you obviously know what I look like. I haven’t even seen your face properly yet.’
He shrugged into his jacket, then moved to the centre of the balcony. From the room inside a shaft of light fell on a strong face with an aquiline nose and a wide, firmly clenched mouth. His cheekbones were high, the eyes slanted, one heavy dark eyebrow raised towards his thick, springing hair as he bore her scrutiny.
‘Well?’ he said dryly. ‘Will I pass?’
With flying colours, she decided. ‘All right—Adam. I’d like to have supper with you,’ she said quickly, before she could change her mind. ‘But not in your room.’
He smiled wryly. ‘Then tell me which restaurant you prefer and I’ll arrange it.’
Just like that. Joss eyed him curiously, in no doubt that if this man asked for a table no restaurant, however sought after, would refuse him. She thought it over for a moment, then gave him a straight look. ‘As you’ve gathered, I’m not in party mood. But we could have supper at my place—if you like.’
His lips twitched. ‘Can you cook?’
‘I offered supper, not haute cuisine,’ she retorted.
He laughed, then moved into her shadowy corner to take her hand. ‘I’m delighted to accept your invitation, Miss Eve.’
The charge of electricity from his touch hinted at danger she chose to ignore in her present reckless mood. ‘Let’s go, then,’ Joss said briskly. ‘But not together. You first.’
He nodded. ‘Allow a discreet interval for me to thank your friends. I’ll have the car waiting at the main entrance in twenty minutes.’
When she was alone Joss leaned on the balcony for a while, almost convinced she’d imagined the encounter. But a furtive peep through the curtains showed her new acquaintance dominating the group clustered round Anna and Hugh. Very nice indeed, thought Joss, reassured, and much too tall to be a figment of anyone’s imagination. She waited until he’d gone, then emerged from her hiding place and joined Anna and Hugh.
‘We were about to send a search party for you, Joss,’ said Anna indignantly. ‘Where on earth have you been?’
‘Communing with nature on a discreet balcony,’ said Joss demurely.
‘Alone?’ asked Hugh, grinning.
‘Of course not.’ She batted her eyelashes at him. ‘Anyway, must dash—supper for two awaits. Thanks for a lovely party. See you soon.’ Joss hugged Anna, kissed Hugh’s cheek, then did the rounds, saying her goodbyes, made a detour to tidy herself up in a cloakroom, and at last took the lift down to the foyer, where a man in hotel livery ushered her outside to a waiting car.
‘You’re late,’ growled an impatient voice as she slid into the passenger seat.
‘Sorry. Couldn’t get away.’ Joss gave him her address with sudden reluctance, hoping this wasn’t a colossal mistake.
‘I’d begun to think you’d changed your mind,’ said Adam as he drove away.
He was very nearly right. ‘If so I would have sent a message,’ she said crisply.
‘Ah. A woman of principle!’
‘I try to be.’ Joss turned a long look on the forceful profile, and saw the wide mouth twist a little.
‘I hear you, Eve, loud and clear.’
‘Good. What happened to the friend, by the way?’
‘When told I was dining with a ravishing