Appointment at the Altar

alarming desire to laugh.

‘You know perfectly well that I didn’t mean you,’ she told him, turning to walk once more. ‘I told them my boyfriend was called Guy, but that’s all you’ve got in common. He’s nothing like you!’

‘That’s a shame.’ Guy fell into step beside her. ‘So what’s he like, then?’

‘My boyfriend, Guy? Well, let’s see.’ Lucy tilted her head and considered. Why should Guy have all the fun? ‘He’s utterly gorgeous, of course.’

‘Is he?’

‘He’s kind and sweet and chivalrous, and he absolutely adores me. He’s always bringing me little presents, and telling me how much he loves me.’

‘He sounds a bit sickly to me.’ Guy made a face.

‘He’s not sickly. He’s lovely,’ said Lucy firmly.

‘I suppose he’s a real man, too?’

‘Naturally. He’s steady and intelligent and very responsible. He never makes stupid jokes or gives people silly nicknames.’

Guy sighed and took her hand to tuck it into the crook of his arm. ‘I don’t think he’s the man for you, Cinders.’

‘He’s perfect for me.’

‘Perfect is dull,’ he told her. ‘I think you need someone who’s a bit more fun. Someone who doesn’t always play by the rules.’

‘What rules?’

‘The rules that say you don’t kiss a girl when you know she’s in love with someone else,’ said Guy, stopping so that Lucy, her hand still in his arm, ended up stopping too and, before she had realised quite what was happening, he had pulled her round to face him.

With his free hand, he reached up and pulled the clip from her hair so that it tumbled down to her shoulders. ‘The rules that say you should just take her home and say goodnight,’ he said softly. ‘The rules that say you shouldn’t keep her standing out in the cold and the dark so that you can do this…’

Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion. Every sense in Lucy’s body seemed to be quivering, although whether with alarm or anticipation she couldn’t quite be sure. Certainly when Guy’s mouth came down on hers the earth seemed to tilt and her heart gave a great jolt that could only be shock, but instead of pulling away, as she knew that she could have done, some different message was parting her lips, was thrilling to the taste of his mouth and urging her to lean into the warmth and sureness of his touch.

She could move away, Lucy knew. She could stop this, and really she ought to do it, she ought to do it now, in fact, but kissing him felt so right somehow. It was almost as if there were something inevitable about finding herself in his arms, something that left her in thrall to the feel of his lips, to the tantalising exploration of his tongue, to the shudder of desire that ran through her when he pulled her closer, one hand caressing her spine, the other possessively curved beneath her hair at the nape of her neck, his palm warm against the sensitive skin as the kiss deepened.

Lucy was twenty-six and without any vanity had always known herself to be a pretty girl. She had been kissed lots of times before, but never-never-like this. Never before had she felt her bones dissolve beneath the upsurge of honeyed pleasure. Never had she felt this deep, dark, delicious thrum of possession and power. Her fingers might clutch his jacket, but she wasn’t a weak, helpless thing. She was an equal in passion, an equal in the kiss, an equal in the slow burn of need.

The kissing was lovely, but it wasn’t enough. Inside her, the excitement was rapidly uncoiling, whipping round and round until Lucy had lost control and was so tangled in it that she didn’t know where she was or what she was doing. She just knew that she wanted more…

And that was when Guy slowly, reluctantly, lifted his head. For a long moment, he just looked down into her face with a twisted smile. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I shouldn’t have done that. I just couldn’t resist.’

His words reached Lucy through such a fog of confusion and churning emotions that none of them made sense.

‘Wh-what was that for?’ she stammered.

‘What is any kiss for?’ said Guy lightly, and then frowned at the dazed expression in her eyes. ‘Are you all right?’ he asked, touching her cheek lightly with his fingers.

No, Lucy wanted to shout. I’m not all right! She was shaken and confused by the abrupt return to reality, shocked by the strength of her own reaction to his kiss and appalled by the impulse to throw herself back into his arms.

Horrified by how easily she had succumbed to his kiss.

She hadn’t even made a token protest, Lucy realised, burning with humiliation.

‘I’m fine.’ With an enormous effort, she pulled herself together. ‘Absolutely fine.’

‘Are you sure?’ asked Guy in concern. ‘You look as if you’ve been knocked for six.’

Lucy wasn’t up in cricketing metaphors, but she felt as if she had been knocked for a lot more than six. She wasn’t ready to admit to that, though, least of all to Guy.

‘I’ve been kissed before,’ she snapped, terrified in case he guessed how much that kiss had affected her.

‘I don’t doubt that for a minute,’ said Guy, and Lucy eyed him suspiciously.

‘It’s not a big deal,’ she insisted.

‘Good,’ he said, ‘because I really am sorry. I shouldn’t have kissed you just now.’

Putting his hand under her elbow, he turned and started walking as if nothing whatsoever had happened. ‘Usually I do stick to the rules,’ he said wryly. ‘I blame that boyfriend you invented. He’s clearly the kind of man who takes liberties!’

‘I hope he’s not expecting to take any more tonight,’ said Lucy, who had recovered somewhat, although she was still a lot more shaken than she wanted to admit.

‘Absolutely not,’ said Guy. ‘Scout’s honour, in fact.’ Solemnly, he held up crossed fingers, only to spoil the effect by adding, ‘It was only a kiss, after all.’

Right. Just a kiss.

She had told Guy that it wasn’t a big deal and it wasn’t, Lucy told herself repeatedly that night. Jetlag was the only reason she couldn’t get to sleep. Obviously.

Lucy sighed and turned over and thumped her pillow but she couldn’t get comfortable. She was buzzing with the memory of the way he had kissed her, and just when she thought she had pushed it firmly into a box at the back of her mind marked No Big Deal, it would come bursting out again in heart-shaking detail.

The touch of his lips, the taste of his mouth, the feel of his hard hands…Worse, her own eagerness, the shameful ease with which she had been seduced by sensation and abandoned herself to pleasure. How she had clutched at him, how her tongue had teased his, how she had returned kiss for kiss as if they were lovers.

‘Aaargh…’ Lucy groaned and buried her face in the pillow. How could she? She had had plenty of opportunity to push Guy scornfully away, so why hadn’t she done it? She didn’t even like him! Well, not much, anyway. She was in love with Kevin, who would never have kissed her like that-if only he had!-and you didn’t kiss other men when you felt like that, no matter how little a deal it was.

Sighing, she threw herself over on to her back once more and stared resentfully at the ceiling. What a great evening! She had been accused of laziness and cowardice, and then humiliated with a stupid kiss. Well, she would show Guy that it took more than that to get her down! Tomorrow, she was going out to get herself a job, and they would see who was humiliated then.

Lucy paused outside Dangerfield & Dunn and looked up at the striking soaring facade, the glass reflecting the blue of a spring sky. It was nothing like her idea of an investment bank. Instead it was all sleek design and cutting-edge technology and the unmistakable hush of serious money.

She could hardly believe that she had blagged her way into a job in such a place, but even investment banks oozing wealth and power were not immune from day-to-day hassles. One of the receptionists, an actress who had suddenly been offered a part, had left without warning that Friday, and when Lucy had called in to see if she could wheedle her way into an interview with Human Resources the surviving receptionist had been struggling to deal with a queue of people wanting information while the phones buzzed frantically.