Well, she wasn’t going to argue with that! ‘And also,’ she admitted, ‘I was terribly afraid that if you knew I was a virgin you would insist on doing the honourable thing.’
‘The “honourable thing” being?’
Romy shrugged. ‘You know. Insisting on me staying pure and unsullied, and not making love to me.’
He grinned. ‘I may have honourable traits, sweetheart, but I’m not completely stupid!’ He narrowed his eyes, as if a thought had suddenly occurred to him. “That—um—divine experience in the garden... How in heaven’s name did a virgin learn how to do that?’
‘She used her imagination,’ Romy told him smugly. ‘I happen to have a very vivid imagination, you know, Dominic!’
His eyes darkened. ‘Shall we go to bed now?’ he growled.
‘Oh, yes, please,’ she sighed happily. ‘And can we do it again?’
Dominic laughed aloud, feeling more light-hearted than he could ever remember feeling. ‘As often as you like, sweetheart—as often as you like.’
He suddenly noticed the telephone receiver lying on the floor by the sofa. ‘Oh, dear—one of us must have kicked it off,’ he observed drily, loving the way she blushed so sweetly.
He replaced it onto the handset and it trilled out almost immediately. Romy listened while he said, ‘Mmm. Mmm. When? Good. That’s good! Yes. Yes, she is.’ And finally, ‘I’m getting married. Yes! Of course it’s to Romy. We’ll tell you all about it. Tomorrow?’ He grinned at Romy. ‘Well. maybe not tomorrow—I have the strongest suspicion we’re going to be very tied up for the next few days! I’ll phone you.’
He put the receiver down, looking very slightly bemused. ‘That was Triss,’ he explained. ‘Archie has been trying to get through to us, but couldn’t—so he rang her and Cormack instead. He and Dolly arrived at the hospital just as their daughter-in-law produced a baby girl—she’s quite small but absolutely perfect! And they are both doing well.’
‘Oh, Dominic,’ said Romy breathlessly. ‘Isn’t that just fantastic?’
‘It is.’ He smiled indulgently. ‘In fact, everything is.’
‘Just one other thing.’ She pursed her lips together as he lifted her into his arms.
‘Mmm?’
‘How on earth did Triss know that you were going to marry me?’
He smiled. ‘Before the party, I told her that I wanted to get you out of my system.’
‘And was that why you brought me here?’ she quizzed softly.
‘I’m afraid it was.’ His expression was rueful and his eyes were as silver as the moonlit lake outside. ‘But it went even further than that. You hit the nail on the head when you accused me of wanting to make you fall in love with me, sweetheart. I did. But I didn’t question my motives for doing so too closely.
‘You see, Romy, I thought that following an appropriate period of mourning you would come looking for me after Mark died. And when you didn’t...I...’
‘What?’ she whispered, thinking of the countless times she had lifted the telephone to contact him, and replaced it again, not daring to risk his contemptuous rejection.
‘I felt used,’ he admitted. ‘No better than a stud you’d got a cheap thrill from. I couldn’t forget you—in fact, the memory of you was making it impossible for me to live any kind of normal life. And so I plotted to bring you here—wanting you to be ensnared by me so that I could inflict on you the same kind of suffering and torment I had been forced to endure while you were away from me.’
‘Revenge?’ mused Romy.
‘Revenge,’ he echoed, and his face darkened. ‘But for once I lacked the perception to see that I was still totally ensnared by you.’ He looked at her candidly, a wry smile curving his lips. ‘And I never thought that when love came it would hit me like that.’
‘Like what?’ she asked him, intrigued.
‘Like a thunderbolt. Sudden. Powerful. Irrational.’ His eyes glittered. ‘And all-consuming. That kind of wild, crazy love seemed too much part of the world I had grown up in, where instant gratification was everything. The world I had wanted to escape so badly.’
‘And how did you think that love would come, Dominic?’ she asked him softly.
‘Oh, slow...and considered. And carefully evaluated.’ He smiled. ‘Deadly dull, in fact.’
He picked her hand up and slowly kissed each finger in turn, and Romy thrilled at the expression of wonder in his eyes.
‘I also told Triss that I had an old score to settle with you.’
‘And what did she say?’
‘Just that I was straying into dangerous waters—that she knew from her own experiences that revenge has an awful habit of backfiring on you. And it has,’ he finished, on a whisper, ‘in the most delightful way imaginable.’
‘Oh, Dominic,’ sighed Romy, her heart almost bursting. ‘I love you very much.’
‘Then show me, sweetheart,’ he said, and his voice was suddenly urgent. ‘Show me.’
‘And I now pronounce you man and wife.’ The registrar beamed when—as if on cue—a blackbird began to sing its heart out in one of the trees. ‘You may now kiss the bride,’ he said.
Dominic needed no second bidding. He bent his head and briefly brushed Romy’s lips, their eyes meeting in a long, long smile which excluded the rest of the world.
And then came the low buzz of conversation as the guests all began to chatter excitedly.
‘Not a very passionate kiss,’ whispered Lola rather disappointedly. She had been hoping for a passionate clinch in the manner of Rhett and Scarlett! ‘And certainly not what you would expect from Dominic Dashwood—not with his reputation!’
‘I rather suspect,’ answered Geraint drily, ‘that Dominic is holding back—and that if he really kissed her he might get completely carried away. Did you see that look he gave her just now? Positively X-rated!’
Lola screwed up her blue eyes. ‘I see what you mean,’ she whispered delightedly. ‘Look at the way they’re gazing at each other now—they look as lovestruck as two teenagers!’
Geraint laughed, and gave her a look of mock despair as he pulled her into his arms. ‘And do you still gaze at me that way, my love?’
Lola looked smug, remembering the way he had ravished her on the bed just an hour earlier—nearly making them late for the wedding! ‘I look at you that way all the time, Geraint Howell-Williams—as well you know.’
Geraint laughed, just as Cormack and Triss wandered over. Cormack had a sleeping baby in a stripy suit flopped contentedly over his shoulder, while Triss was wearing fuchsia-coloured satin trousers, which were skin-tight, with a matching matador jacket whose orange buttons matched her outrageous hat.
‘The Italian designer?’ guessed Lola.
Triss grinned. ‘Spot on! Completely over the top, isn’t it? But I love his clothes, and I’d feel guilty about paying shop prices for them.’
‘And fortunately I love them, too,’ said Cormack, his eyes glinting as he gazed adoringly at his wife. ‘I shall never forget that excuse for a skirt you wore on our honeymoon! The gondolier almost fell head first into the canal! Remember?’
‘Mmm.’ Triss had seen far less of the canals and treasures of Venice than she had expected, but she knew every single centimetre of their rooms at