Their Engagement is Announced

Their Engagement is Announced Carole Mortimer Griffin Sinclair had announced that he and Dora Baxter were going to get married. This was a complete shock to Dora?he hadn't even asked her!Griffin had created the fictitious engagement to avoid his mother's matchmaking?and it seemed Dora had no choice but to go along with it. Now she had to spend all her time with the gorgeous Adonis?. But it wasn't going to be that easy?because secretly, Dora had been in love with Griffin for years, and there was nothing she wanted more than his genuine proposal! ?Of course it?s my business, Griffin,? his mother dismissed scathingly. ?You?re my son.? ?But being your son does not give you the right?especially at thirty-four years of age!?to choose my friends for me! Or the woman I marry,? he added forcefully. ?But?? ?You seem determined that I marry someone, Mother, so?? he moved slightly so that he could place his arm around Dora?s shoulders ??I would like you to meet your future daughter-in-law, Isadora Baxter!? Dora drew in a sharp breath, not sure who was the more shocked by his triumphant announcement?his mother or herself! CAROLE MORTIMER says, ?I was born in England, the youngest of three children? I have two older brothers. I started writing in 1978, and have now written over one hundred books for Harlequin?. ?I have four sons? Matthew, Joshua, Timothy and Peter?and a bearded collie called Merlyn. I?m married to Peter senior, we?re best friends as well as lovers, which is probably the best recipe for a successful relationship. We live on the Isle of Man.? Their Engagement is Announced Carole Mortimer www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk) Peter, As Always. CONTENTS CHAPTER ONE (#u191fccde-ee3d-55ee-9186-9d7d4c17750a) CHAPTER TWO (#u4e196502-1b4c-5d1a-897e-d78d4ea286c3) CHAPTER THREE (#litres_trial_promo) CHAPTER FOUR (#litres_trial_promo) CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo) CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo) CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo) CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo) CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo) CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo) CHAPTER ONE THE bell over the shop doorway rang as cheerfully as usual to announce the arrival of a customer. Its innocent sound did nothing to alert her to the fact that this customer was going to be any different from any other she?d had in today, that Griffin Sinclair was about to burst into her life?again! ?Izzy? Izzy! I just called in to? Good God, woman, what the hell have you done to yourself? Your erstwhile fianc?, my dear brother Charles, has been dead almost a year now. Did no one tell you that the deceased?s nearest and dearest no longer have to wear black for a whole year, let alone throw themselves on the funeral pyre with them?? She had felt her blood turn to ice at the first sound of that mocking voice, but the words that followed shocked her so much that she couldn?t even speak! She had always found this man?s outspokenness, his whole overpowering personality uncomfortable to be around. And despite the fact that she hadn?t seen him since Charles?s funeral ten months ago?it was exactly ten months ago?today was no exception! ?Izzy, are you ill?? He frowned across at her where she sat behind the desk that also housed the till, his brows narrowed over emerald-green eyes. ?Izzy?? he prompted again, impatient now at her lack of response. ?Dora.? She finally spoke softly. ?What?? Griffin scowled his irritated impatience. ?My name is Dora,? She told him more firmly, recovering slightly from the shock of seeing him again. ?And would you either come in or go out of that doorway? You?re letting in a draught!? He came fully into the shop, the bell over the door ringing again as he closed it behind him. ?You know, I?ve never liked the name Dora.? He arrogantly dismissed her first statement, grinning his satisfaction now that he had at least got some sort of response from her. He looked, Dora decided, completely incongruous in the intimate confines of this speciality bookshop. His denims were as old and faded as the brown boots he wore, a black tee-shirt was tucked in at his flat waist, and a brown leather jacket seemed to have been thrown on carelessly over this. But for all his seeming indifference to the clothes he wore, his physique was powerful with vitality, like a lion about to pounce. Dora just wished she didn?t feel quite so much like the prey he intended pouncing upon! He really was the most unorthodox man she had ever seen, Dora decided. His hair was even longer than when she had last seen him, golden waves of it reaching to his shoulders now, looking as if the most he did with it was run his fingers through it in the mornings just to push it back off his face. And the length of that unruly hair was totally off-set by the rugged strength of his face, which looked as if it had been hewn from stone: a square chin, full lips, straight, arrogant nose, and those deep green eyes. At the moment he was still grinning at her, those green eyes laughing at her, forcing lines to appear beside his eyes and mouth. In fact, Griffin Sinclair was so altogether male that he set Dora?s teeth on edge! A fact that had always made it difficult for her to believe he really was Charles?s younger brother. ?I don?t believe it?s actually significant whether or not you actually like my name, Griffin?? ?Oh, I love your name?Izzy,? He drawled pointedly. ?And I quite like Isadora. It?s only Dora that I can?t stand.? He grimaced with feeling. ?It makes you sound like a Dickensian heroine!? She raised her auburn brows. ?You meant you dislike the name Dora, of course,? she taunted dryly?no one ever called her Isadora. Griffin strolled further into the shop, his derisive expression showing exactly what he thought of the shelves and shelves of non-fiction and classical books that surrounded the two of them. ?Of course,? he agreed softly, standing only feet away from her now. ?Dora sounds like an old maid, and old-fashioned to boot.? Once again his critical gaze swept over her sombre clothing. And Dora knew exactly what he would see, too. The black calf-length skirt and black jumper were completely unflattering to either her figure or the natural paleness of her complexion. Only the vibrant red of her own shoulder-length hair gave her any colour at all, and that was secured at her nape with a black ribbon. ?Isadora is coolly elegant,? Griffin continued consideringly. ?But Izzy?well, Izzy is something else!? he murmured appreciatively. The red colour that flooded her cheeks at this comment almost matched the colour of her hair. ?I thought we?d agreed never to refer to that again!? she bit out stiffly. He shrugged unconcernedly. ?That was before. Things are different now.? ?Not for me, they aren?t,? Dora cut in sharply, her hands tightly gripping two books she had picked up to replace back on the shelf. That green gaze swept scathingly over her appearance once again. ?Obviously not,? he derided, shaking his head reprovingly. ?Charles was my brother, Izzy, and as such I loved him but nevertheless I was also aware of his faults. And one thing I?m damned sure of?he was not the type of man to inspire a love that would result in a lifetime of mourning at his death!? Dora gasped. ?You?re so?? ?Good God, woman,? Griffin continued, as if she hadn?t spoken, ?even my mother has picked herself up from the blow Charles?s death was to her plans of continued glory for the family name! And we all know how determined she was that Charles should have a respectable marriage?so that he could follow our father into politics and eventually obtain a Knighthood!? Griffin?s mouth twisted derisively at the latter. But he was right, of course. Dora had always known of Margaret Sinclair?s ambition for her eldest son to take over in the political arena where her late husband had left off after his death twenty years ago. And as the daughter of Professor Baxter, famous university lecturer until his retirement ten years ago, Dora had been the perfect choice as a wife for Charles. Unfortunately Charles had been killed in a car accident ten months ago, and all of Margaret?s plans with him. Because even if Griffin Sinclair had been in the least bit interested in politics?which he most assuredly wasn?t!?he was not a man, at aged thirty-four, to be moulded into anyone?s else?s ambitions, and least of all those of his mother! ?Something else I?m damned sure of,? Griffin continued, his eyes glittering. ?If the boot had been on the other foot?if you had been the one to die in that crash instead of him? Charles wouldn?t still be mourning you! After a period of grief, followed by a respectable time-lapse, he would have been looking around for your replacement! Or my mother would?so that he could get on with his career!? Dora knew that he was right about that too, her face pale now at the deliberate cruelty of his words. ?And how about you?? Griffin challenged. ?Hasn?t your father found you another rising star yet, who can be moulded into a suitable son-in-law for him?? Dora thought briefly of Sam, a doctor she had seen several times during the last few months, and knew that he didn?t fit that description at all. Sam was dedicated enough; it was just that Dora didn?t feel that way about him. And her father, she knew, on the one occasion he?d happened to meet Sam, hadn?t been impressed. ?You know?? Griffin shook his head disgustedly, his smile humourless now. ?I always thought, with both their partners passed away, your father and my mother should have been the ones to marry each other?they?re both ruthless, conniving, manipulative?? ?My father died last week, Griffin,? Dora cut in flatly. ?That?s the reason I?m wearing black.? He looked stunned for a moment, and then his mouth twisted wryly. ?Are you sure? Did you double check before they??? ?Griffin!? she gasped, incredulous at his complete lack of feeling for her loss, as well as the death of another human being. In their short acquaintance, Griffin had struck her as many things, but unfeeling wasn?t one of them? ?His sort don?t die, Izzy,? Griffin maintained grimly. ?They?re usually stuffed and put on exhibition?? ?He wasn?t a ??sort??, Griffin,? she bit out tautly. ?He was my father.? ?Oh, I know who he was, Izzy,? he dismissed scathingly, ?I also know what he was,? he added grimly. She shook her head. ?I?ve never understood this dislike you had for my father.? What had he ever done to Griffin? Except disapprove of the younger man?s whole lifestyle, of course! Griffin was everything her father despised in a man: no permanent home, a job that he did if and when he felt like it?and Dora would be surprised if he even so much as possessed a suit! And as for that overlong hair?! No, Griffin wasn?t a man her father could ever have approved of. But she had never quite understood why Griffin felt the same aversion towards her father? Maybe it was the reverse, and Griffin had despised her father?s own respectable lifestyle? Whatever it was, the two men had heartily disliked each other from the moment they had been introduced. ?I realise that,? Griffin answered harshly. ?And I?m not about to be the one to shatter your illusions about him!? She sighed. ?Griffin, when you arrived you said you had just called in to do something,? she reminded him firmly. ?Perhaps you would like to tell me what that ??something?? was, and then I can get on with my work?? She looked at him with steady grey eyes. He looked about them pointedly at the bookcases of mainly leather-bound books. ?Not exactly bursting over with customers, are you,? he said dryly. ?What are you going to do with this place now that your father is gone? Sell it, I suppose.? He nodded in answer to his own statement. ?There can?t be too much call?? ?I have no intention of selling this shop,? Dora burst out indignantly. ?I?have plans of my own. Changes in mind,? she added guardedly. It still sounded more than a little disrespectful to talk of making changes in the shop which had been her father?s work for the last ten years of his life when he had only been dead for ten days. Her father had been?difficult; she acknowledged that. Since her mother had died, ten years ago, when Dora was sixteen and studying for her A levels, it had been just the two of them. And, once her A levels had been completed and attained, Dora had spent her time taking care of their home and helping her father in the shop, putting her own plans for going to university on hold. Until her father no longer needed her, she had told herself at the time, not realising that that time would never come. Her father?s health hadn?t been particularly good after the death of Dora?s mother; his heart-attack ten days ago had been devastating, but not exactly unexpected. So now, at twenty-six, Dora was at last free to pursue her own aborted plans. But after all this time she felt it was too late. She had the house, and this shop, and had every intention of making something of her life. Despite Griffin Sinclair?s derision! He really was the most incredible man. It seemed he abided by none of the conventions that most other people lived by. His remarks concerning her father?s death, for example, had been disgraceful. Oh, Dora accepted there had been no love lost between the two men, her father considering the younger man to be a Bohemian reprobate while Griffin had believed her father to be?what had he called him earlier??ruthless, conniving and manipulative. Dora didn?t completely agree with either of those opinions, but she had been left in no doubt that the two men disliked each other intensely. And as for Griffin?s reference to ?Izzy??! That wasn?t just something they had agreed never to talk about; it was something she preferred not to even think about, either! ?What sort of ??plans???? Griffin was watching her with narrowed eyes. ?Don?t tell me you?re actually going to drag this place into the twentieth century?? He could mock all he liked, but her plans were her business, and she wasn?t about to discuss them with him. Griffin was the last person she would tell her plans to! ?I know this is difficult for you to believe, Griffin,? she told him tauntingly, ?but not everyone wants to travel the world, calling no place home, living out of a suitcase?by the way, what could possibly be important enough to have brought you home this time?? she added pointedly. His mouth had tightened grimly at her deliberate barbs. And, in truth, she wasn?t being exactly fair. The last she had heard of Griffin he?d had an apartment in London he called ?home?, and when he ?lived out of a suitcase? it was usually in first-class hotels. And as for ?travelling the world?, that was Griffin?s job; the travel books he wrote after making those trips were highly successful, being amusing as well as informative. Not that there was a copy of any of those books in this shop. Her father had considered Griffin?s writing to be too light and frivolous to be taken seriously, let alone take up any space on his shelves! Once Dora had picked up a copy of one of his books at a hotel she?d stayed in on a business trip for her father. She?d found that Griffin?s personality came through in every word; concise, humorous, derisive, but with warmth and charm also apparent if he had particularly liked the place he was writing about. ?Family crisis,? he abruptly answered her mocking question. ?Which brings me to? Aha,? he murmured softly as the bell pealed over the door as it was opened once again. ?I?ll browse through the books and try to look like another customer,? he told Dora conspiratorially. ?That way it will look as if you have a rush on!? Dora had trouble keeping her face straight as that was exactly what he proceeded to do. The woman who?d entered the shop, probably aged somewhere in her sixties, glanced across at Griffin as he began to amass a pile of books in his arms. Books, Dora was sure, that he chose from the shelves at random, and was convinced of the fact when she saw him put a copy of a book about the Titanic on the pile. The elderly lady?s own attention seemed to be only half on the row of books she was perusing too, her glances in Griffin?s direction becoming more and more frequent as the minutes ticked by. Griffin pointedly ignored her glances, his attention seeming enrapt now on a shelf of books on prehistoric animals! It was almost Dora?s undoing when he glanced across at her sideways, waited until the other woman wasn?t looking at him, and gave Dora a knowing wink! She gave him a reproving frown. Dreadful man! His irreverence?in any situation?was unbelievable! ?I say, miss.? the elderly lady had now sidled up to her, talking to her in a whisper. ?That young man over there.? She nodded in Griffin?s direction. ?Young man?? At age thirty-four, Griffin hardly fitted that description! But with a definite lack of any other young men in the vicinity? ?Yes?? Dora prompted attentively. ?He looks very like Griffin Sinclair,? she told Dora avidly. ?You know, the man who does those travel programmes on the television,? she prompted at Dora?s blank look. ?Do you suppose it could be him?? she added excitedly, looking quite youthfully flushed at the idea it just might be Griffin Sinclair. As Dora knew only too well, it definitely was him. But it was the first she had heard of him being involved in a television programme. Not that that was exactly surprising; they didn?t possess a television at home for her to have seen him on. Her father had never liked that form of entertainment, and preferred to listen to the radio if he bothered with anything at all. Or rather?he had? ?Why don?t you go and ask him?? Dora suggested lightly, looking across at Griffin with new eyes. He would be good on television, Dora thought to herself. He had the looks and presence to carry off such a role. And if this elderly lady?s reaction to him was anything to go by, he obviously had quite a female following of the programme, at least! ?Do you think I should?? The woman gave another nervous but also coy look in Griffin?s direction. Dora definitely thought that she should?if only so that she could witness his reaction to the obvious admiration this woman had for him. ?I?m sure you should,? she encouraged lightly. ?You don?t think he would be offended by a perfect stranger going up and talking to him in that way?? The woman looked quite concerned that he might be. ?How could he possibly be offended when you are obviously an admirer of his television programmes?? Dora was beginning to feel sorry for the woman now, and regretted her subterfuge in not owning up to being completely aware of Griffin?s identity?if not the television programmes the woman was talking about. ?But if it isn?t him?? ?I?m sure that it is.? Dora put a reassuring hand on the other woman?s arm. ?Besides,? she added mischievously, ?I doubt that any man could look that much like him and not actually be him!? As she knew only too well herself, Griffin was a one-off, if only in his unorthodox ways. The woman looked across at him with adoring eyes. ?He is rather unique, isn?t he?? she sighed wistfully. ?Unique? described Griffin completely?at least, Dora had never met anyone remotely like him, either in looks or outspoken manner. ?Exactly,? she agreed with the other woman emphatically. ?I suppose you think I?m rather silly; I know that my husband does,? the elderly woman acknowledged ruefully. ?But the truth of the matter is, I absolutely adore novels that have swashbuckling pirates and rogues in, and Griffin Sinclair looks just like a modern-day version of one to me!? Dora glanced across at him. The pile of books that he carried reached up to his cleanly shaven chin?she really wasn?t that desperate to make a sale! But with his long blond hair, that ruggedly handsome face, and with his complete disregard for outward appearances, she had to admit he did look a bit like a modern-day pirate?! ?Come on.? She put her hand lightly in the crook of the other woman?s arm. ?We?ll go and face this particular pirate together.? It was the least she could do after not being completely honest with this woman from the outset. Dora was sure Griffin was well aware of the two women approaching him, but he continued to maintain his interest in the shelves in front of him. ?Mr Sinclair?? Dora tilted her head questioningly in front of him. ?This lady is a fan of yours, and would like to say hello.? Was it her imagination or did he raise mocking brows in her direction before placing his pile of books down on the table beside him and turning the warmth of his charm on to his fan? No, Dora decided wryly as she walked away and left the two of them to their conversation?gushing on the woman?s part, huskily warm on Griffin?s?she hadn?t imagined that mockery at all. She didn?t doubt for a minute that Griffin knew damn well that until the woman had told her so a few minutes ago she had had no knowledge that Griffin did anything to merit having fans! He was well aware of the fact that the Baxter household did not possess a television, because of her father?s aversion to them?and she would hardly have been out and purchased one in the ten days since his death. Although, she acknowledged with a frown, just the sight and sound of one might have been preferable to the silence that had fallen over the house in the last week. Not that her father had been a great conversationalist; he?d usually been busy either reading one of his beloved books or restoring one, a hobby that had become a profession over the last few years. But just knowing the house was empty, apart from herself, had made the silence seem all the more oppressive? ??so kind of you, Mr Sinclair.? Dora was brought back to an awareness of her surroundings by the elderly woman?s gushing thanks. ?I?ll treasure it always!? she added breathlessly. ?It? was a book that Griffin had insisted on buying for the other woman, gallantly opening the door for her too, a couple of minutes later, so that she could leave. ?Take that look off your face, Izzy Baxter,? Griffin drawled as he strolled back to where she sat behind the till. ?And don?t say, What look?? He sat down on the edge of the desk. ?I know you too well to be in the least fooled by the innocent calm of your grey eyes!? A shutter instantly came down over those ?calm grey eyes?. ?The truth of the matter is, Griffin,? she told him coolly, ?you don?t know me at all!? ?I beg to differ?Izzy.? He raised one blond brow pointedly. ?But enough of that,? he dismissed lightly as she continued to look at him coldly. ?I bet that?s the first time you?ve ever sold a biography of Dickens with a Griffin Sinclair autograph in the front of it!? He hadn?t? He couldn?t have? He had, she realised increduously as she saw the laughter in his eyes. ?I doubt that has increased its value,? she bit out waspishly. ?Ouch!? he murmured ruefully, his gaze lingering on her face. ?But it?s good to see that, between the two of them, Charles and your father didn?t knock all the spirit and fun out of you.? His expression was grim now, green eyes hard as the emeralds they resembled. ?Neither Charles or my father ever raised a hand to me,? she defended indignantly. ?They didn?t need to,? Griffin scorned. ?Verbal abuse, in the form of constant put-downs in your case, can be as effective as a physical blow.? Dora looked up at him wordlessly for several long seconds. But finally, seeing in his demeanour no hint of apology for what he?d just said, she turned away, before getting restlessly to her feet, needing to put some distance between the two of them. ?You?re talking absolute nonsense,? she dismissed impatiently. ?Now I wish you would just state your reason for being here and then go.? Because, as always, he was shaking her natural calm. And after the recent strain, she needed to hold on to that. ?I?m sure your mother?for one?would not approve of your paying a visit to your brother?s exfianc?e!? Dora couldn?t resist making a dig of her own; Margaret had always disapproved of Griffin?s apparent familiarity with Dora in the past, and Dora had no reason to think it was any different now, even with Charles dead. Griffin relaxed. ?I?m sure my mother?s opinion???for one??!?is of no interest to me!? It had always amazed Dora in the past that it never had been of much interest to Griffin. Margaret Sinclair was tall and autocratic. Widowed while her children were all still quite young, she had taken over as the head of the family, seemingly without pause for mourning her husband?s demise. Charles, as the eldest son, had been groomed for the family?s re-entry into the political arena his mother had loved so well. Charlotte, as the youngest child and only daughter, had been brought up to be a wife and mother?although she was neither of those things yet, as far as Dora was aware. Griffin, the second son and the middle child, was as different from his siblings as night was from day?his blond good looks against their darker colouring. He was also the rebel in the family, fitting into none of the careers Margaret would have liked him to follow. It was a role, Dora had learnt after a very short acquaintance with the whole family, that Griffin nurtured and loved! She gave him a rueful grimace. ?How has she taken to your television career?? He gave her a sideways glance, green gaze openly laughing. ?What do you think?? he drawled mockingly. ?Oh, no.? Dora laughed softly. ?You aren?t going to draw me into that one!? Although she could well imagine how Margaret had reacted to her middle child being on public television in a programme that, knowing Griffin, would be slightly less than serious. But, as in the past, Dora had every intention of keeping well out of the feud that existed between Griffin and his mother. Anyone caught in the middle of that animosity was likely to get trampled underfoot by one or both of them! ?She?s horrified.? Griffin cheerfully confirmed Dora?s suspicions, at the same time giving the impression?once again!?that his mother?s opinion was of no interest to him. ?In fact,? he continued dryly, ?she was so angry with me when the first programme was televised that she didn?t speak to me for a month. That was the most peaceful month of my life!? he added with feeling. Dora gave another laugh, realising even as she did so that it was the first time for a very long time she had found anything to laugh about? She sobered, feeling almost guilty at her humour now, with her father only dead a matter of days. And here, too, of all places, in the shop he had spent so much time in. ?And yet,? Dora murmured softly, ?it?s you who she called when there was a family crisis.? This last was said half questioningly; Margaret had always been so in control, so self-possessed, it was hard to imagine a situation she couldn?t deal with herself. Griffin shrugged. ?Mother hasn?t been quite her?autocratic self since Charles?s death.? He frowned, as if he had only just realised that particular fact for himself. ?In fact, it was that that caused the row between Mother and Charlotte.? ?Charles?s death?? Dora looked at him sharply. The two brothers hadn?t always seen eye to eye, being far too different in outlook and temperament for that, but Margaret and Charlotte had both adored Charles; Dora couldn?t imagine the two women arguing about him. ?The time-scale of it.? Griffin nodded grimly. ?Charlotte?s finac?, Stuart? I?m sure you remember him? Well, he?s been offered a job in the States,? Griffin continued at her affirmative nod. ?Which he is due to start in a couple of months? time. Charlotte, quite naturally, wants to go with him.? ?And your mother isn?t happy about the two of them living together?? Dora nodded?although she still didn?t see how that involved Charles. Griffin gave a mischievous grin. ?She certainly wouldn?t be happy if that were the case,? he acknowledged tauntingly. ?Although, at twenty-eight, Charlotte is old enough to make up her own mind how she wants to live her life! But, no, Charlotte and Stuart are going to do the decent thing and get married. It was the date Charlotte set for the wedding that caused the problem. Four weeks on Saturday,? he explained as Dora still looked confused. ?That way the two of them will be able to have a honeymoon before Stuart is due to start his new job.? By which time Charles would only have been dead for eleven months? And, bearing in mind Griffin?s earlier comment to her today about wearing black for a year, it all began to make perfect sense. ?Your mother believes the wedding date is disrespectful to Charles?s memory,? she guessed knowingly. Once again Griffin gave her that sideways glance. ?Don?t tell me you agree with her?? ?No, of course I don?t,? she answered impatiently. ?You have a very strange opinion of me, Griffin.? She frowned, remembering some of his earlier remarks concerning her father and Charles. ?I?m very pleased for Charlotte and Stuart.? She had always been very fond of the other couple; in fact Charlotte was the only member of the family that she had continued to see for coffee occasionally after Charles died. ?Because they?re getting married?or because they?re moving far away from my mother?? Griffin muttered grimly. Dora shook her head at him. He really was the most disrespectful man! ?I?m sure your mother means well, Griffin,? she reasoned evasively; she had been more than aware, during her brief engagement to Charles, that Margaret would make a formidable mother-in-law?! ?Are you?? Griffin looked at her with narrowed eyes. ?I wish I had your confidence,? he added disgustedly. ?Whatever, the wedding is going ahead as planned in four weeks? time.? ?How did you manage that?? Dora wondered curiously. If his mother could stop speaking to him for a month simply because he appeared on public television in what she considered amounted to a role of entertainer, how much deeper would her response have been to Charlotte thwarting her wishes? ?Bribery and corruption,? Griffin bit out grimly. ?But it?s done now, and?well, that?s why I?m here today.? He searched in the pockets of his leather jacket. ?To personally bring you your wedding invitation. Sorry.? He grimaced as he finally found it. ?It seems to have got a bit crushed in my pocket.? He handed her the dog-eared envelope. Dora looked blankly at the envelope, making no effort to take it. Her invitation? Not just to the wedding, but back into the midst of the Sinclair family?! ?It isn?t going to bite,? Griffin mocked as he still held out the envelope. She hadn?t seen Charlotte for several months now, both of them having other commitments, otherwise she would probably already have known about the hastily arranged marriage. And it was very kind of the other woman to invite her to her wedding, but, in truth, Dora felt her own involvement with the Sinclair family had ended with Charles?s death. And the way Griffin had just breezed in here today, on the basis of delivering this invitation, proved to her she was right to have made that decision! She shook her head. ?I doubt I?ll be able to make it.? ?Why not?? She gave Griffin an irritated frown. ?In view of your mother?s initial reaction to the wedding date, and the reason for it, I would have thought I was the last person she would expect to see there!? He raised blond brows. ?Scared, Izzy?? he taunted. ?Don?t be ridiculous, Griffin,? she snapped dismissively. ?I was trying to be sensitive to your mother?s feelings.? ?In view of the fact that she is never ??sensitive?? to other people?s feelings, I wouldn?t bother!? He pushed himself up off the desk, instantly making the shop look small once again. ?Besides, now that we?ve settled her initial?misgivings, she?s thrown herself into the wedding arrangements with a vengeance! Charlotte?s ??quiet wedding?? has been turned into a social circus!? he explained disgustedly. All the more reason, Dora would have thought, for her not to attend. Oh, she still had all the social attributes Charles?and his mother!?had found so suitable for her future role as Charles?s wife: she found it easy to converse with people from all walks of life, on most subjects?themselves, she had learnt, was usually a pretty safe bet for most people!?she was attractive enough, in a quiet and unassuming way, and, best of all, she was sure, there was no hint of scandal attached to her name. She just didn?t particularly relish her role now as ?poor Charles?s fianc?e?, the object of pitying curiosity. And surely her father?s recent death was excuse enough not to accept. ?In view of the fact that none of the family were aware of your father?s death, he was, of course, included in the invitation.? Griffin seemed to have read at least some of her thoughts. ?But don?t give that another thought; it will be simple enough for you to come to the wedding as my partner for the day.? Now Dora did stare at him. His partner? ?I don?t think so, Griffin?? ?Well, I do,? he returned in a voice that brooked no argument. ?Now, could you ring through the sale of these books?? He indicated the pile he had accumulated when the elderly lady was in the shop, having put them down on the desk. ?I have another appointment in an hour.? Dora frowned. ?Surely you don?t really want all these books?? He grimaced. ?As well as not talking to me for a month, my mother decided to clear out the bedroom she keeps for me at the house. The ??clearing out?? included throwing away a collection of classics I had had since I was a boy,? he told her grimly. ?I?m attempting to replace them.? Mother and son never had really got on, Dora knew, but even so! Griffin might dismiss his mother?s behaviour now, but she was sure he had been far from pleased at the time. ?If you can remember some of the others that are still?missing, I might be able to get them for you,? she offered helpfully. Books had always been a big part of her own life, and she could imagine nothing more awful than losing any of the collection she had amassed over the years, and still read over and over. ?Thanks.? He nodded. ?I?ll make a list and give it to you.? She wished he wouldn?t watch her so intently as she totalled up the books; he made her feel nervous, and she had trouble concentrating at all. But he continued to watch her with those knowing green eyes, and it seemed to take her for ever to get through the twenty or so books he had picked up. ?You must have had quite a library,? she said lightly as she stacked them into carrier bags, having noted that some of them were copies of books she had in her own library at home. ?And there you were thinking I couldn?t read!? he drawled mockingly. ?You?re being ridiculous again.? She looked up at him with calm grey eyes, able to breathe again now that she knew he was on the point of leaving. ?I am aware of the fact that you?ve written several books of your own.? His mouth twisted derisively. ?I?ll lay odds on there not being any of them in here, though.? He looked about him pointedly. She stiffed at his deliberate mockery. ?We do have travel books?? ?But not by Griffin Sinclair,? he said with certainty. ?Your father didn?t approve of me any more than I liked him!? He was right, of course; her father had never made any secret of his disapproval of Charles?s ?disreputable? younger brother. Although Dora very much doubted the oversight had been deliberately because of who Griffin was; the shop simply didn?t stock the sort of books Griffin had written. ?I told you I intend making changes,? she replied abruptly. ?And books written by well-known television personalities are sure to be good sellers,? she added teasingly. ?Very funny!? Griffin grimaced, picking up the two bags of books. ?I?ll see you in four weeks? time, then.? He strode across the shop to the door. ?The wedding is at three o?clock, so I?ll call for you at your home at about two o?clock.? Then she would accompany him to his sister?s wedding, as his partner? ?Oh, and Izzy??? He paused at the open doorway. She looked at him warily. ?Yes?? He grinned at her obvious reluctance. ?Don?t wear black, hmm? For one thing, it isn?t an appropriate colour to wear to a wedding,? he continued before she could make any comment. ?And for another,? he added tauntingly, ?it doesn?t suit you!? Dora sank down weakly into her chair once Griffin had gone, closing the door softly behind him. Griffin Sinclair, she decided?and not for the first time!?was the most outrageous man she had ever had the misfortune to meet. But how strange it was that the elderly lady had earlier likened him to a modern-day pirate, because when Dora had first met him he had seemed like a man from another time to her, too. Of course, their surroundings had added to that illusion. At least, she had felt they did then, and she had made that excuse to herself since as a way of explaining her behaviour. Whatever the reason, she had allowed herself to be cast under some sort of spell. If only for a brief time? CHAPTER TWO THE prospective dealer, a man with a book for sale that her father had wanted, had sounded eccentric enough over the telephone, but when Dora had seen the Devon hotel he?d recommended for her overnight stay, she had known her business visit there was going to be a memorable one. She could have had no idea as she walked into the entrance hall, past huge open oak doors, just how memorable it was going to be! She had felt as if she?d stepped back through a time warp as she?d walked inside the hotel. Dungelly Court had been restored, it had said in the brochure she?d picked up just inside the door, as much as it was possible to its past glory. Old paintings and huge tapestries had adorned the deep purple walls, and ornate mirrors hung on those walls too, with a deep red carpet on the floor that should have clashed with the colour of the walls and yet somehow hadn?t. And in the two rooms that had led directly off the hallway there had been fires lit in the massive grates, logs burning warmly. And welcomingly. It had been unreal. Surreal. ?Someone will come and see to you shortly.? Dora?s overnight bag almost slipped from her fingers at the sound of that rich male voice. She looked cautiously into the deserted room to the right of the main doorway. At least, a room she had assumed to be deserted! A man now stood to one side of the huge open fireplace, a man dressed completely in black, only the golden blondness of his long hair alleviating that impression of darkness. Where he had come from, Dora had no idea, but she had been sure that when she?d glanced into the room a few moments ago it had been empty. The bar that stood at one end of the room was still closed at this time of the morning, the tables and chairs placed casually about the room were all empty too, although candles burned in holders on every tabletop, despite the earliness of the hour. Her gaze returned nervously to the man. One of his hands rested on the huge wooden lintel above the fireplace. ?Where is everyone?? Her voice sounded hushed and hollow. Understandably so?not only did she seem to have stepped back in time, but she had done so with this blond giant of a man, who now stood looking at her with cool green eyes. ?Couldn?t tell you.? The man shrugged dismissively. ?Do you have a room booked? They don?t seem too busy at the moment so I don?t think it will matter whether you have or not, but?? ?I booked,? Dora put in quickly. ?Miss Baxter.? The man moved behind the bar, glancing in a red leather-bound book that lay open on its top. ?Yep.? He nodded. ?Miss I. Baxter.? He looked up at her with those compelling eyes. ?What does the ??I?? stand for?? He quirked one blond brow. ?Isadora,? she admitted reluctantly. ?But my family has always called me?? ?Izzy,? the man put in with satisfaction as he strolled back from behind the bar, seeming to savour the way the name rolled off his tongue. ?I like it.? He nodded, tilting his head to one side as he gave her a considering look. ?It suits you,? he finally murmured. Finally, because Dora found she had been holding her breath as she waited for his next comment! And no one had ever called her Izzy?! It had always been Isadora if her parents were displeased with her, and Dora if they weren?t. But, strangely enough, she found that she liked the name Izzy. It seemed to make her sound different, and, as such, was perfectly in harmony with the surreal quality of this country inn. ?Griffin Sinclair.? The man held out his hand, a hand that was cool and firm to the touch, the clasp firm, as Dora discovered when she touched it politely. ?I was named after my mother?s least favourite uncle,? he added by way of explanation, grimacing his feelings about that. ?Least favourite, but the man with all the money,? he added dryly. ?Can I get you a drink while you?re waiting?? he offered lightly. Just listening to this man was like having arrows hurled in your direction. In his case they were arrows of information, but after Dora?s long drive here, and the strangeness of her surroundings, her head was starting to spin! ?I?m so sorry.? She gave a wan smile. ?I didn?t realise you worked here.? ?I don?t,? he assured her cheerfully. ?I?m a guest too. But I would be happy to get you a drink.? Dora frowned. This man had appeared as if from thin air, he chose to call her Izzy, when no one else ever had, he had been named Griffin after his mother?s rich but disliked uncle, and he?d casually offered to get her a drink as if he owned the place, when in fact he was merely a guest, like herself! She certainly didn?t need a drink; in fact she already felt as if she were slightly drunk! ?I?ll wait and have a coffee, thank you,? she replied somewhat dazedly, looking about her thoughtfully. ?Isn?t it a little?odd, that there?s no one here to book me in?? she murmured awkwardly. ?Part of the hotel?s charm.? Griffin shrugged dismissively once again, sitting down on one of the high stools that stood in front of the bar. ?That?s something you?ll learn this place has by the barrel-load,? he added with satisfaction. ?Right down to its secret passage that leads down on to the beach. For the smugglers,? he added as she still looked blank. ?It used to be quite a lucrative business in these parts.? Secret passage?? ?I don?t suppose its source is in this room?? Dora wondered ruefully; after all, he had to have appeared in this room from somewhere! Griffin grinned, obviously now guessing the reason for her initial discomfort. ?Behind the suit of armour.? He nodded towards the niche in the corner of the room where the armour stood on display. ?One of the panels moves. You go down a flight of stairs, and the passageway leads down to a cave that opens out on to the beach a quarter of a mile away.? Not too keen on dark, confined spaces, Dora couldn?t see herself ever making that particular trip, so he could have saved himself the explanation. Besides, she was only here overnight. She had her dealer to see later today, and then tomorrow morning she would be driving back to Hampshire, where she lived. Which didn?t leave too much time for exploring secret passages and caves on to beaches?thank goodness! ?I don?t?Good grief?!? Dora breathed in a panicked squeak as the biggest dog she had ever set eyes on stood calmly in the doorway. Dog? The huge grey beast looked more like a horse! ?Griffin!? She moved as quickly as she dared?just above a snail?s pace!?and threw herself into the protection of Griffin?s arms. Yes, Griffin, at least, was very real! Dora could feel the hard warmth of his chest beneath her cheek, smell the male warmth of him. Yes, he might be real?but the rest of this was turning into a nightmare! Griffin?s arms moved comfortably about her at the same time as he began to chuckle, a huskily attractive sound that reverberated through his chest. ?It?s only Derry,? he laughed softly. ?Admittedly, he looks rather fierce, but he?s actually very gentle. In fact, a pussycat!? A pussycat! The dog looked far from gentle as he surveyed the room with a steady gaze. Even as Dora continued to look at him in horrified fascination the dog decided to stroll further into the room, walking over to the fire before dropping his huge weight down in front of it, his massive head coming down to rest on his front paws as he proceeded to gaze at the flames, totally ignoring the two humans in the room. Although Dora had a feeling the dog wouldn?t look quite so unconcerned if either of them should try to make a move. What sort of hotel was this? She was very much afraid she would have to make a move of some sort. She still stood within the protective embrace of Griffin Sinclair. She was extremely conscious of the powerful warmth of his body, and could smell the male freshness of his aftershave, too, now. This man was a complete stranger to her; she would have to move! But before she could do so a tall blonde woman, probably in her forties, strolled into the room. Everyone seemed to stroll in his hotel, Dora decided irritably; so much for efficiency of service. And yet everywhere looked neat and clean, and the fires were well tended?as were the extensive grounds outside. Having already had the feeling that she?d stepped back in time, Dora was far from amused by the woman?s opening remark! ?So you?ve found a friend to share your four-poster bed after all, Griffin,? she drawled pleasantly, smiling warmly at Dora, pausing to stroke the Irish wolfhound?s head absently before stepping lightly behind the bar. ?Can I get you both a drink? On the house, of course.? Griffin chuckled again as Dora moved indignantly out of his arms, winking at her conspiratorially before turning back to face the other woman. ?This is Miss Izzy Baxter?your new paying guest!? he added, with obvious enjoyment at the mistake that had been made. ?And she?s already turned down the suggestion of an alcoholic drink. Izzy, this is the lady who owns Dungelly Court?Fiona Madison.? The two women looked at each other with new eyes; Fiona Madison taking on a more businesslike expression, Dora?s frown deepening. Griffin had claimed to be a guest here too, but was he a paying one? He and Fiona Madison seemed extremely familiar with each other? ?Sorry about that, Izzy.? Fiona gave a dismissive laugh. ?I thought?well, never mind what I thought,? she said briskly as Dora continued to look at her coolly. ?Would you like to sign the register? And then I?ll take you to your room. Have you had a very long journey?? she continued conversationally as Dora signed her name in the red leather book Griffin had looked in earlier. A long journey? It felt, in these unreal surroundings, as if she had been travelling for years?backwards! Fiona laughed again as she easily read Dora?s slightly dazed expression. ?This place is something else, isn?t it?? she acknowledged fondly. ?My late husband spent the last five years of his life lovingly restoring it,? she added wistfully. Late husband? This beautiful woman, probably only forty-three or four, was a widow? Again Dora looked speculatively at Griffin Sinclair. Though the other woman?s tone had borne no rancour minutes ago, when she?d made that remark about Griffin having found a friend to share his four-poster? ?He did a wonderful job of it,? Dora told the other woman politely. Mr Madison, whoever he might have been, had certainly fooled her when she?d arrived! ?Mmm,? the older woman acknowledged wistfully, definitely giving the impression she would rather have had her husband back at her side than all the visible charm he had returned to Dungelly Court. ?I?ll show you to your room,? Fiona added lightly, coming out from behind the bar. ?See you later, Izzy,? Griffin Sinclair called after her, mockery edging his tone now?as if he had half guessed Dora?s speculation concerning himself and Fiona Madison and was amused by it! He would be, Dora decided crossly; the man seemed to laugh at everything?but especially at her! And, considering she usually took life so seriously, never having time in her life for the air of frivolity Griffin Sinclair seemed to possess, she found the fact irksome to say the least. ?Perhaps we could have lunch together?? he called softly as Dora reached the doorway. She turned slowly, not sure if he were talking to her or Fiona Madison. But Griffin appeared to be looking straight at her, one of those blond brows raised questioningly over green eyes. Dora drew in a deep breath. ?I?m afraid I already have a luncheon appointment,? she was able to answer truthfully, and with not a little relief at having the prior engagement. The hotel obviously wasn?t particularly busy, and Griffin was as obviously bored with his own company, but Dora certainly wasn?t going to provide him with his entertainment. Although part of her acknowledged that, with her initial reaction to him and this hotel, she?d probably already done that! He looked unperturbed by her refusal. ?See you later, then.? He nodded dismissively, although his gaze remained on her as she left the room. To Dora?s further dismay the Irish wolfhound had stood up and now followed her and Fiona from the room. His head, when he raised it to look at her, was almost on a level with Dora?s own. Her father had always been of the opinion that keeping cats and dogs as pets in the home was a sign of man?s weakness, so Dora hadn?t grown up comfortable with either species, let alone one that looked as if it could devour her with one bite of those massive jaws! ?Derry is completely harmless,? Fiona assured her as Dora gave worried glances towards the following dog. ?He wouldn?t hurt a fly?would you, boy?? She gave the massive head an affectionate rub. ?You should see him with children.? Fiona shook her head ruefully. ?He rolls over and lets them tickle his tummy.? Dora would as soon have Griffin Sinclair roll over and tickle his tummy as she would this huge dog! ?How nice,? she murmured weakly. All thought of the dog and Griffin Sinclair fled her mind as Fiona took her up a short flight of stairs and unlocked the door at the top, throwing it open so that Dora could view her room. A room it certainly was, but like no other hotel room Dora had ever seen. Here the walls were painted yellow, but still with that rich red carpet on the floor; there were more tapestries on the walls, and another fireplace, but filled with a huge vase of dried flowers this time, and several pieces of antique furniture. Against the farthest wall stood a four-poster bed. Dora?s cheeks flushed fiery red as she recalled Fiona?s earlier remark to Griffin concerning the four-poster in his own room? ?We only have ten guestrooms,? Fiona told her lightly. ?The restaurant is our main attraction?a carvery, of course,? she added ruefully. ?Shall I reserve a table for you for dinner this evening?? she enquired pleasantly. Dora was still disoriented, and this bedroom only added to the illusion. ?Please,? she accepted gratefully, her attention caught and held by the tapestry over the unlit fireplace. A lion and a unicorn? How appropriate! ?I collect books and figures of unicorns myself,? she told Fiona Madison somewhat shyly as the other woman saw her fascination with the tapestry. It was a subject Dora and her father totally disagreed on, her father claiming the beast was totally mythical, and therefore foolish, and so by tacit agreement it was something the two of them never referred to. Dora?s collection was kept in her bedroom, where only she could see it. ?Then this room was obviously meant for you to stay in.? The other woman squeezed her arm as if in understanding. ?Make yourself at home,? she added warmly. ?And if you need anything, just come down and ask? I promise you that someone will be in the bar,? she added ruefully, after the earlier oversight. ?There are no telephones in the rooms, I?m afraid. They are totally destructive to any peace and quiet our guests might desire?as well as being totally out of keeping with the twelfth century!? They hadn?t had radiators in the twelfth century either, or running water in the bathrooms?in fact, they probably hadn?t even had bathrooms in the house! But as Dora dropped down wearily on to the four-poster bed once the other woman had left, she found she didn?t particularly care about the lack of a telephone. The complete silence in the room, apart from the sound of birds singing outside in the garden, only added to the mystery that was fast becoming Dungelly Court. In fact, the peace and quiet, and the total lack of formality from the owner of the hotel, filled Dora with a lethargy of her own, making her feel somewhat reluctant to step outside and let the real world in again. But she did have that appointment for lunch with her father?s dealer. She was sure she would feel refreshed once she had indulged in the cup of coffee she had mentioned earlier. A shower and a change of clothes would complete the transformation, and then perhaps she would be able to view this place with the detachment she now felt was necessary. Griffin Sinclair, she readily admitted to herself, was part of what she needed to detach herself from! He was aged, she guessed, in his early thirties, and the shoulder length of his hair was unfashionable to say the least?although Griffin?s confident air seemed to state he didn?t give a damn for fashion! He?d certainly made an impression on her. If only for the fact that after only a few minutes? acquaintance he had asked her to join him for lunch! Colour heated Dora?s cheeks as she remembered the way he had looked at her. She?d never had any illusions concerning the way she looked: a little over five feet in height, slender, with a pale complexion and vibrant red hair. Griffin Sinclair, she decided, must either be very bored to have asked her to join him for lunch, or else he had been playing with her. She was not too happy with either possible explanation! Forget Griffin Sinclair, she told herself half an hour later as she drove away from the hotel to go to her appointment; with any luck he might have checked out by the time she returned. He hadn?t booked out. In fact, far from it! The bar, Dora discovered when she wandered downstairs shortly before eight o?clock that evening?having taken a slight detour on the way when she had inadvertently turned left instead of right at the bottom of the stairs!?in contrast to the morning, when she had arrived, was absolutely packed with people. So much so that Dora could hardly see the bar itself, let alone find a seat. The fire was totally hidden by the sea of people standing in front of its warmth, although that heat could still be felt even in the doorway, making Dora glad she had chosen to wear a silk cream blouse over a calf-length black skirt. ?Our table is through here.? Dora looked up in time to recognise Griffin Sinclair before her arm was taken in his firm grasp as he led the way through the maze of small dining rooms that seemed to make up most of the lower floor of the hotel, warmly inviting rooms, with only three or four tables in each, log fires burning in the hearths. ?As you can see, it?s very busy here this evening.? Griffin stopped beside a table, holding back a chair for Dora to sit down. ?I assured Fiona we wouldn?t in the least mind sharing a table rather than taking up two!? Dora frowned at him. He had a damned cheek assuring Fiona of anything where she was concerned! But there was no doubt that the restaurant was very busy; most of the people that had been in the bar drinking were now starting to drift in to sit at their tables. ?And sharing the bill, too?? Dora drawled as she finally sat down. The room was illuminated by the fire and a dozen or so lit candles. Very romantic! And with a complete stranger, at that. She wouldn?t say he was a ?perfect? stranger, because she had the feeling Griffin Sinclair was far from being that! ?That would be very ungentlemanly of me.? Griffin sat down opposite her, pouring her a glass of white wine from the bottle he must already have ordered for their table. ?And although my mother may feel that she failed with me in most things,? he added hardly, ?she did bring me up to be a gentleman.? There was a slight edge to his voice as he spoke of his mother, as there had been earlier when he?d talked of being named after his great-uncle. Dora?s own mother had been dead for eight years, and she still missed her quiet calm, her air of serenity, her sense of fun. ?In that case, I thank you for dinner.? She accepted his invitation?albeit a fait accompli!?with a gracious smile. Griffin sat back in his chair, watching her. ?You look right in these surroundings, you know, Izzy,? he finally murmured. Dora had been aware of his prolonged gaze, and now the hot colour entered her cheeks. She had never been what could be considered a fashionable dresser, preferring to wear what was comfortable or smart, and, in the case of the cream blouse and black skirt, she considered them to be both. Her hair was freshly washed after her travelling and her business appointment, and fell softly to her shoulders; her make-up was light?a peach lipgloss on her lips, just a brush of mascara to darken her lashes and enhance the grey of her eyes. In fact, she had been quite satisfied with her appearance before she?d left her bedroom a few minutes ago, but she realised that she probably wasn?t sophisticated or beautiful enough for a man like Griffin Sinclair, that his taste would be for much more glamorous women than she could ever be. ?I meant that as a compliment, Izzy.? His husky voice interrupted her wandering thoughts. ?I?ve fallen in love with the charm of this place.? He looked about them comfortably. ?I only meant to stay overnight initially, but instead I?ve been here almost a week now!? ?Are you here on business, Griffin?? She deliberately chose to ignore what he considered his compliment?and the fact that he continued to call her Izzy when no one else ever did. The whole of her visit to this hotel was taking on a dream-like quality; he might as well become another part of it. And, actually, it was quite exciting to be someone other than Dora for a few hours in her life! Not that there was anything particularly wrong with her life. She kept house for her father, and helped him in his bookshop throughout the week. It was just that the very fact of being called Izzy made her feel as if she were somehow different, no longer the shy, cautious little Dora. Or maybe it was as Griffin said: the charm of this country inn just seemed to take over? He laughed softly. ?This is my business, Izzy. I write travel reviews,? he explained at her questioning look. ?For Sunday supplements, things like that?? She had never actually thought about the fact that the people who wrote those things had to actually stay in the places they wrote about. But of course they did. And Griffin was obviously one of the people who did that. They had travel books at the shop, of course, but not ones that involved visiting individual hotels and giving a rating on them. ?Things like that,? Griffin echoed dryly, with a mocking inclination of his head. ?How interesting.? She took a sip of her wine, finding it light and dry. Just the way she liked it? Griffin burst out laughing, uncaring of the female heads that turned his way as he did so. ?Take my advice, Izzy, and never take up acting?you?re lousy at it!? ?But surely it is interesting?? She hurriedly tried to rectify what he had obviously taken as an insult. This place, or being called Izzy, must be having a strange effect on her; she wasn?t usually so outspoken! ?I?ve always wanted to travel,? she added wistfully, knowing that while she worked for her father she probably never would, other than on business trips like this one. And she only made those because her father now felt he was too old for making such long drives himself. When she was younger Dora had imagined she would perhaps take a year out after finishing school and before taking up a course at university, but her mother?s death, and the need for her at home, meant that that had never happened. And now, with her father and herself both working in the shop, they had necessarily to take separate holidays. Most of Dora?s friends were now either married or had moved away from the area, and it didn?t feel right, nor would it be as much fun, for her to travel on her own. And so her holidays were usually spent at home. Although travelling for a living, while it might be fun to start with, must surely become boring after a while? ?It can be interesting.? Griffin shrugged. ?Although my family keep asking me when I?m going to get a ??proper?? job!? From what Griffin had said about his family, his mother in particular, Dora had the feeling he was quite happy to continue as he was?if it managed to annoy his family at the same time as providing him with a living! Dora couldn?t imagine living with such tension between herself and the only living member of the family she had left: namely her father. She preferred life to run smoothly and comfortably, not to be in constant conflict with those around her. Griffin gave every impression of not giving a damn about who he upset! Her mouth twisted wryly. ?I?m sure they must be proud of you.? After all, he must be quite good at what he did, otherwise he wouldn?t still be in employment. ?And I?m damned sure they?re no such thing!? he returned unconcernedly. Dora took another sip of her wine. In fact, she seemed to sip rather a lot of wine during the next couple of hours as they enjoyed their meal, and Griffin ordered another bottle halfway through their main course. Dora wasn?t sure it was exactly prudent to drink any more wine, but she wasn?t driving, and she really was quite enjoying herself. Griffin was genuinely interesting as he told her some of the funnier stories of his travels, and she didn?t want to refuse the wine and so put a dampener on their evening. Even Derry, as he wandered about the place, didn?t seem quite as big and frightening as he had earlier. In fact, he seemed to have decided he quite liked her, coming to lie on the carpeted floor at her feet. ?Five feet nothing, and yet you seem to have some sort of power over rogue males,? Griffin murmured thoughtfully. Dora gave him a sharp look, searching for some sort of hidden meaning in his comment?or one that wasn?t so hidden! There was no doubting that Griffin was male, a fact that her racing pulse had been telling her all evening, and as for rogue?he was the most unorthodox man she had ever met! He had made no effort to dress for dinner, and was still wearing his denims. He?d swapped his black tee shirt for a green one, which seemed to darken the colour of his eyes, adding to their enigmatic depth. Those eyes combined with that over-long blond hair made him very much a ?rogue male? himself. But perhaps that wasn?t what he had meant?? ?It was exactly what I meant, Izzy.? He sat forward, his expression suddenly intense as he reached out and clasped one of her hands in his own. ?Where the hell did you come from?? he muttered grimly. She swallowed hard. He was playing with her; he had to be. In fact, she had been wondering all evening why a man like him should choose to have dinner with someone as ordinary as herself. In the end she had decided he was having dinner with her because there was simply no one else here for him to have dinner with! ?Hampshire, actually.? She deliberately misunderstood him. Oh, she was tempted, so very tempted?what woman wouldn?t be??to go along with his flirtation, just once in her life to forget? But, no! She was Isadora Baxter?Dora, who had never been involved in a serious relationship in her life?and she was not about to jump into a flirtatious fling now with a man she had only met for the first time this morning. A man who was the complete opposite of everything she had ever looked for in a man. She wanted someone sober, hardworking?a son-in-law that would at last make her father proud of her. Her father loved her, she knew that he did, it was just that he?d always wanted a son, and having another child had been an impossibility after Dora was born. So it had always been Dora?s wish to give him the next best thing; a son-in-law he could be proud of. She knew he would be horrified at her attraction towards a man like Griffin Sinclair! ?Would you like coffee now, or shall we wait until after our walk?? Walk? What walk? She didn?t remember him mentioning the two of them going for a walk, let alone her own agreement to the idea. ?I?? ?It?s a beautiful evening, Dora,? Griffin added encouragingly, standing up to pull back her chair for her. Dora stood up. She was feeling too mellow?from drinking too much good wine, she freely admitted?to be bothered to argue the point. Besides, the night air might clear her head. She shivered slightly as they got outside. ?I thought you said it was a beautiful evening,? she said ruefully. ?Beautiful doesn?t necessarily mean warm!? he chuckled. ?Here.? He took off his jacket and draped it about her shoulders, lightly grasping her arm as they walked across the forecourt and into the gardens beyond. Dora tried desperately not to react to the lightness of his touch, which wasn?t very easy when wrapped in the warmth of his jacket; the material smelled of him, a mixture of maleness and his aftershave. It wasn?t doing anything to clear her head, either! She sat down at one of the picnic tables placed around the garden, lit by the lamps placed strategically to emphasise the flowers and topiary. Unfortunately for her already shaky senses, Griffin chose to sit down next to her, so close that the warmth of his breath stirred the hair at Dora?s temple. And yet she couldn?t seem to move away. She seemed to be held there mesmerised by the dark intensity of his gaze. And so she used the only line of defence open to her?words! ?I suppose you?re going to give the hotel a good write-up?? She hadn?t meant to sound sarcastic, but even as she said the words she knew that she did. Griffin tilted his head to one side. ?And just what do you mean by that?? he said mildly. He knew exactly what she meant; he was just playing with her! She could feel the hot colour of embarrassment in her cheeks. ?I just thought, being such a close friend of Fiona?s?? she mumbled awkwardly. ?I knew what you meant, Izzy,? he drawled with amusement. ?I just wondered if you had nerve enough to say it!? Her eyes flashed angrily now. ?Don?t play games with me, Griffin?? ?Then don?t jump to erroneous conclusions?Izzy,? he returned hardly. ?Fiona is a nice woman; I may deserve your derision, but I?m not sure she does!? Wonderful. Now she felt really awful! But he was right. Her sarcasm hadn?t been directed at the other woman but at this man at her side. Unfortunately, it had backfired on her? ?They are erroneous conclusions, Izzy,? Griffin murmured softly as he saw her dismay. ?Fiona was very much in love with her husband.? But her husband was dead? Besides, that explanation didn?t rule out Griffin being attracted to the beautiful widow. And Griffin was a very attractive man?even if he did give the impression he didn?t give a damn about anything or anyone! She swallowed hard. ?Griffin?? ?Izzy?!? he murmured throatily, before kissing her! And with a passion Dora had never known before! One minute they were sitting side by side on the bench-seat, the next he had pulled her to her feet, his jacket falling unheeded to the ground by both of them as he moulded her body to his, his mouth laying claim to hers. For there was no other way to describe the passionate demand of Griffin?s mouth against hers. No gentle caress, no searching for a response, simply taking. As if he had been aware of her compliance all along! Had she been so obvious in her attraction towards this man? Had she shown from the first how bowled over she was by his rakish good-looks? Worse, had Griffin taken one look at her, a single woman of twenty-four, not beautiful, but not plain either, and realised she would be an easy conquest for his undoubted charm? Was that the reason he had so arrogantly arranged for the two of them to have dinner together this evening? Dora wrenched away from him. ?That?s enough, Griffin!? she told him coldly. He kept his arms firmly about her waist. ?We?ve barely begun, Izzy,? he assured her huskily. She swallowed hard, looking up at him in the glow of the garden lights. Lovemaking with this man, she knew, would be wild and beautiful?everything she had ever dreamed it to be. But he was a stranger, a man on the make?and not for love either! ?You?re wrong, Griffin?we?ve finished!? she told him scornfully, pulling completely out of his arms, resisting the impulse to smooth down her hair where seconds ago his fingers had run through it. ?It?s been a charming interlude?? His expression hardened, his eyes glacial. ?Don?t dismiss me like someone you just picked up for the evening.? ?Then don?t treat me like someone you picked up for the evening, either!? she came back heatedly, her cheeks burning with humiliated colour. ?Dinner was enjoyable, the conversation fun?up to a point. But in the morning I go back to my own life, and you?ll return to yours. Don?t delude yourself into thinking this place is reality, Griffin!? She looked about them pointedly. Even the gardens seemed to have a magic quality to them now: the profusion of spring flowers, the shadowy corners a perfect foil for the house itself. Griffin still looked down at her with narrowed eyes. ?And just what is your reality, Izzy?? he rasped. ?Is there a man already in your life? Someone you go back to tomorrow?? Only her father. There didn?t seem to be much time or space for other men in her life at the moment. Her last date had been over a year ago, and, as she recalled, that hadn?t been too successful. But that didn?t mean she had ruled out the possibility of falling in love, of marrying, of having children. She was only twenty-four, and she had all those natural yearnings; she just hadn?t found the right man to share them with yet. But that didn?t mean she would settle for indulging in meaningless affairs until she met the right man for her. And there was certainly no room in her life, even briefly, for a man like Griffin Sinclair! She raised her head, meeting the angry challenge in his expression. ?Yes, there?s a man in my life,? she told him curtly, forgiving herself for not being exactly truthful about the role that man had in her life. ?As I?m sure there are dozens of women in yours?!? she added insultingly. ?We weren?t talking about me,? Griffin grated harshly. ?Of course not,? she scorned. ?I?m sure you never answer those sort of questions about yourself!? Her anger was bordering on tears now. Tears of dismay. At herself. For allowing Griffin to get even this close to her. No doubt he would return to his own life eventually, and he wouldn?t even remember meeting someone called Isadora Baxter. She wasn?t sure she would have the same success in forgetting him. ?I should go back inside now,? she said haltingly. ?Should you?? He was angry himself now. ?Why?? Because this man was disturbing her, was upsetting the even tenor of her life. She should never have agreed to have dinner with him. ?Because I have an early start in the morning!? she snapped, turning away. And with each step she took she expected to find her arm grasped as Griffin turned her angrily back to face him. It didn?t happen? By the time Dora reached the sanctuary of her bedroom she was shaking so badly she had to sit down on the side of the four-poster bed. What a fool she?d been. An absolute fool! Griffin Sinclair had just been teasing her after all. Just how far had he been willing to take it?? As far as she allowed it to go, Dora realised with a self-disgusted groan. The sooner she left this hotel, and forgot she had ever met someone called Griffin Sinclair, the better it would be. Most definitely for her, at least. ??? ???????? ?????. ??? ?????? ?? ?????. ????? ?? ??? ????, ??? ??? ????? ??? (https://www.litres.ru/carole-mortimer/their-engagement-is-announced/?lfrom=688855901) ? ???. ????? ???? ??? ??? ????? ??? Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, ? ??? ????? ????, ? ????? ?????, ? ??? ?? ?? ????, ??? PayPal, WebMoney, ???.???, QIWI ????, ????? ???? ?? ??? ???? ?? ????.