Page 23 of Wife for a Day

With a tug she pulled him towards the small square of wood that passed for the dance floor, manoeuvring her way into its already very crowded centre. Once there, she launched herself into a flurry of rhythmic movement that had more to do with the need to suppress the wanton direction of her thoughts than any response to the beat of the music.

But here, too, Ronan surprised her. For a big man, he danced with a natural grace and a total lack of inhibition that soon had her smiling in delighted response and adjusting her wild gyrations to something more appropriate and far more enjoyable.

Their steps matched perfectly, their bodies coming close, touching briefly and swinging away again in an expressive response to the sound of guitars and drum from the stage. Unable to suppress her feelings, Lily tapped her feet and clicked her fingers excitedly, laughing up into Ronan’s smiling eyes.

‘They’re good!’

She nodded towards the band, crammed onto the tiny rostrum. Rake-thin and crop-haired, the four young men, barely more than boys, were an unimposing sight in themselves, but their music was fresh and exciting, perfect for a night like this.

‘Perhaps you should give them a regular spot here if you decide to buy the place.’

She fought to pitch her voice above the pounding beat, then gasped as he caught her hand and swung her close.

‘Do you think I should?’ he asked, his lips once more almost touching her ear, so that she stiffened in nervous reaction.

‘Well, I like them—but what do I know about it?’

‘You’re Davey’s sister. You should know something. Surely he can’t be the only one with any musical talent in your family.’

He shouldn’t have mentioned Davey’s name. As soon as he did so the bubble of delight that had enclosed her burst with an unwelcome pop. The memory of her brother and his shattered hopes, the dreams he had had since childhood, forced itself into her thoughts, bringing her down to earth with a bump.

And with that cold realism came the unwanted recollection of the harsh, impossible conditions Ronan had imposed on her brother, driving him to despair and the ruinous situation in which he now found himself. Her mood changed abruptly, her feet stilling as if she had suddenly had iron weights fastened to them. She stood unmoving in the middle of the dance floor, oblivious to the whirling figures around her.

Fool! Ronan berated himself. You bloody stupid fool! Why did you have to go and mention Davey’s name? Just when she was beginning to relax, to enjoy herself, you had to go and remind her…

Being with Lily was like being on an emotional switchback ride, going up one moment, only to plunge right down the next. But if ever he was tempted to give up, he only had to remember how she’d looked when she was dancing. Just the thought of her smile, the sensual way she’d moved to the music was enough to spark off the gnawing hunger that was always so very close to the surface these days.

But then he looked into Lily’s stiff face, seeing the bitter reproach in her eyes, and his mood changed abruptly.

‘Yes, I’m Davey’s sister, and as such I should warn those kids not to have anything to do with you. You wouldn’t just want their music—their talent—you’d want everything they’ve got. Their lives, their blood—their souls!’

‘Not theirs, only Davey’s,’ Ronan returned coolly, and the icy conviction in his voice, in those suddenly silvery eyes, left her in no doubt that he meant exactly what he said.

The dark seam of menace that ran through his words sent a cold trickle of fear sliding over the heated skin of her back, so that she shuddered convulsively. She had to get right away from him now or be violently sick, right here in the middle of the dance floor.

‘I—must just go and powder my nose,’ she gasped unevenly, escaping before her mind could fully register the scornful curl of his lips at her transparent excuse.

In the privacy of the Ladies’ she splashed cold water on her face, ran it over her wrists in an attempt to cool her unnaturally racing pulse. She should never have come here! She hated Ronan, hated and loved him in a volatile combination that threatened to explode right in her face if she allowed one more spark of that deadly excitement he could create in her anywhere near it.

She hated him more than ever now. Because that one brief respite from her feelings that she’d had tonight had made it all the more impossible to handle things when they went back to normal, as they inevitably must. She felt like Cinderella once the clock had struck twelve. But what made matters worse was the fact that it wasn’t just her coach and horses that had changed back into a pumpkin and a pair of rodents. Prince Charming himself had turned out to be the biggest rat of them all.

She lingered in her refuge for as long as she dared, only emerging when she was sure that if she lingered a moment more Ronan was perfectly capable of breaking down the door and dragging her out by force. As it was, she fully expected him to be waiting outside to pounce on her as soon as she emerged, and so she was frankly surprised to see him standing calmly at the bar.

‘I thought you’d climbed out of a window and escaped,’ he said as she reached him, shocking her with the accuracy with which he had guessed at the craven thought that had passed through her mind. ‘Either that or you’d locked yourself in.’

‘I…’ She hunted for a suitably quelling reply, but Ronan wasn’t listening.

‘We’re moving on,’ he said abruptly. ‘Time for a change of scene.’

Time for her to stand up to him, Lily decided, and drew herself up to her full five feet six, her chin lifting determinedly.

‘And what if I don’t want to?’

‘You want to stay here?’

A contemptuous wave of his hand encompassed the cramped dance floor, crammed as tight as a tin of sardines, the grubby décor and smoky atmosphere. It seemed that everyone in the room was more than two or three sheets to the wind.

As Lily looked around one of a bunch of young men at the far end of the bar winked at her lewdly, lifting his glass in a lascivious toast. Mercifully the music was loud enough to obliterate what was obviously an obscene suggestion that he mouthed in her direction.

‘I…’ she began again, but never managed to complete the sentence.

Ronan’s hand clamped around her wrist with a force that made her wince in discomfort, and she was yanked away, forced to stumble after him as he strode from the room. His long, powerful legs covered the ground so fast that she had to trot awkwardly in order to keep up with him. It was either that or be dragged, uncaring, in his forceful wake.

‘Let go of me, you caveman!’

She wasn’t sure whether he actually heard her or not, only that he came to such a sudden halt that she cannoned into his broad back, knocking all the breath from her lungs.

‘Let me go!’ she tried again when she had recovered, using her free hand to pound against the arm that held her, feeling the hard power of muscle under the fine silk of his jacket. ‘How dare you treat me like this? Like some primitive Neanderthal dragging his woman off by the hair!’

‘If I’d known that was what you preferred…’

Ronan was deliberately needling her, she was sure. Though she didn’t like the way the hand that wasn’t holding hers moved to her head, brushing very softly against the golden fall of hair down her back. Only when her breath hissed inwards sharply did he release her with a mocking smile.

‘I wanted you out of there,’ he stated calmly. ‘I had no intention of standing by and letting those—yobs…’ the word was chosen with cold precision, his eyes glittering like ice in the moonlight ‘…make advances to my wife.’

‘Your wife!’ Lily exploded. ‘I’m not your wife! I…’

Words failed her as Ronan snatched up her left hand and held it so that the wide gold band he had placed on it over a month before gleamed in the light of an overhead street lamp.

‘You wear my ring,’ he stated, with such unruffled self-assurance that it short-circuited Lily’s brain, destroying her already shaky grip on her temper altogether.

‘I might as well wear your brand!’ she flung at him. ‘This—’

A jerky tug pulled the ring from her finger and she held it up between them.

‘This isn’t a marriage band, a sign of love and a promise of commitment! It’s nothing more than an instrument of torture. You might as well have given me a slave’s collar, like those forced on prisoners long ago by brutal oppressors who wanted only to possess and destroy, who didn’t give a damn about whether their property had any feelings! Here…’

She thrust it at him, pushing it almost into his face.

‘Take it back! It would contaminate me to wear it any longer!’

Ronan made no move to take the ring from her, regarding her stonily through eyes that seemed to be the only living part of a face that was as set and unyielding as if it was carved from marble. His long body remained totally motionless too, frozen into silent immobility.

‘No? Then let me show you what I think of it!’

Whirling round, she faced the canal that ran alongside the car park, its water black and menacing in the light of the moon. With a wordless cry she flung the ring with all her strength and watched it curve high in the air before hurtling down towards the mirror-smooth surface. Her feelings when she heard the faint splash of its landing were such a tangle of painful contradictions that they made her feel as if her heart was being twisted cruelly by some powerful, brutal hand.

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