Not a Marrying Man

Just one night, he’d told himself at the time.

To see how it would feel to make love to someone wholesome. Someone who blushed when you looked deep into her eyes. Someone whose attraction for him shocked her enough to make her resign.

Well, he’d found out what it was like—and, come the next morning, he hadn’t been able to let her go.

But now the time had come for him to do so.

Time to be cruel to be kind.

‘Please don’t start sounding like a wife, Amber,’ he said coldly.

MIRANDA LEE is Australian, and lives near Sydney. Born and raised in the bush, she was boarding-school-educated, and briefly pursued a career in classical music, before moving to Sydney and embracing the world of computers. Happily married, with three daughters, she began writing when family commitments kept her at home. She likes to create stories that are believable, modern, fast-paced and sexy. Her interests include meaty sagas, doing word puzzles, gambling and going to the movies.

MIRANDA LEE

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Excerpts from Amber Roberts’s diary during September of her twenty-fifth year.

Tuesday

What a tiresome day! Arrived at work to find that the hotel had been sold and the new owner would be visiting the premises mid-morning. He’s a British businessman called Warwick Kincaid. According to Jill, he’s a rather infamous entrepreneur with fingers in lots of pies and a reputation for not holding on to anything for long—his girlfriends as well as his many and varied commercial ventures. How she knew all that I have no idea. But then I’m not addicted to gossip mags the way Jill is. Naturally, everyone went into a flap, wondering if their jobs were safe. Not me so much since I’m not all that wrapped in mine. Though I don’t want to lose it just at the moment. Hard to save up a deposit on a house without a salary. Anyway, Warwick Kincaid never showed up in the end. Too busy, we were eventually told. Not sure if that’s good news or bad news. He’s supposed to reschedule for tomorrow.

Wednesday

Well, he showed up this time. Seriously wish he hadn’t. What can I say? He’s as up himself as I imagined. But younger. Late thirties, maybe forty. He’s also the best-looking man I’ve ever met. I couldn’t stop staring at him. He noticed of course. And he stared right back. I’ve never blushed so much in all my life. He didn’t stay all that long but he’s coming back tomorrow to talk to all the staff, one at a time, on a mission to find out why a stylish boutique hotel situated in one of the best areas of Sydney isn’t turning over a profit. His words, not mine. Jill said afterwards that he fancied me and that I should watch myself. I laughed and told her not to be so silly, that I was in love with Cory and no man, no matter how tall, dark and handsome—or rich—would get to even first base with me. But you know what? When Cory picked me up tonight, I looked at him and didn’t feel anything like the buzz I felt today when I looked at Warwick Kincaid. Later, I was relieved when Cory said he wanted an early night. It sounds crazy, but meeting Warwick Kincaid has made me wonder if I’m really in love with Cory. Maybe I’m just in love with the idea of getting married and having the house and family of my own that I’ve always wanted. It’s a worry all right. So’s the way I’ve been fussing over what I’ll wear tomorrow. I have a feeling I’m not going to sleep too well tonight. But I have to if I want to look beautiful in the morning. Oh, goodness, did I just think that? Maybe it would be better if I didn’t sleep. Must go now. Have to do my nails and put a treatment in my hair.

Thursday

I’m almost afraid to write down what happened today. Because if I do, it will become more real, more powerful, and even more disturbing. Not that anything really happened. I mean, he didn’t make a pass at me or anything like that. He just talked to me about the hotel, the same way he talked to everyone else. Seemed happy with my suggestion that the hotel needed some more in-house facilities like a gym and a restaurant. At least a lounge bar where guests could relax and have a drink. On the surface our conversation was strictly business, but all the while those piercing blue eyes of his never left mine. Not for a second. And it wasn’t just the way he stared at me. There was something else. I know it wasn’t just me. It wasn’t my imagination. Something was there, zapping back and forth across the desk that separated us. An electric charge that was both exciting and enervating. When our discussion was over and I had to stand up, I found that my legs had almost gone to jelly. Somehow I made it out of the office and back to the front desk where I slumped down into my chair. I felt faint. I still feel faint thinking about it. And all I’ve done this evening is think about it. My whole world has been tilted on its axis. How can I get engaged to Cory now when I know that I don’t love him? I mean, how could I love him but want to sleep with another man? And I do. I want to have sex with Warwick Kincaid. I can’t believe I just admitted that, but what’s the point of keeping a diary if you lie to it? So, yes, I want to sleep with Warwick Kincaid. But that isn’t love, is it? That’s just lust. Can you be in love with one man and in lust with another? Maybe you can. What do I know? I’ve never felt anything like this before. What I need is to talk to someone about it. Not with my girlfriends, though. They’re all silly as wet hens when it comes to the opposite sex. Not Mum, either. She’d be dead shocked. She thinks I’m a good girl. Which I thought I was too, till today. Maybe Aunt Kate. She’s seen a lot of life. I’ll ring Aunt Kate tomorrow and ask her. She’ll tell me how it is, warts and all. Yes, that’s what I’ll do.