Taking her arm, Roarke guided her to where he had parked his car. ‘None of the others have, so the odds are against it.’
‘Which is why you aren’t even going to attempt a proper marriage,’ she pronounced, and Roarke grinned at her over the boot before closing it with a solid thunk.
‘Got it in one.’
He helped her into the car, but there was very little time for talking as the traffic that evening was heavier than usual. In fact, they only just made it to the airport in time, and their flight had already been called. Ginny didn’t have time to catch a breath until they were in the air and the seat belt sign went out.
‘There’s nothing like a frantic last-minute dash to set you up for the weekend,’ Roarke drawled sardonically as he made himself comfortable in the spacious first class seats.
‘I look at it this way, things can only get better,’ Ginny responded lightly.
He laughed. ‘Don’t you believe it. You haven’t spent any time with my family before.’
Ginny frowned at him. ‘Nobody can be as bad as the picture you’re painting,’ she argued, though she knew full well that they could be as cold and unforgiving as an arctic winter. ‘Your grandfather is always a gentleman.’
‘True,’ Roarke agreed easily. ‘He’s one member of the family I’d do anything for. Unfortunately, he won’t be there. Pressure of work, he told me, but I think he just doesn’t want to run into my mother. They don’t see eye to eye on anything.’
The affection in his voice when he spoke of his grandfather caused Ginny to look at him curiously. ‘So there’s one human being you do care about. You aren’t quite the lost cause you like to make out. Why do you hide it?’
Roarke glanced round at her, a mocking smile back on his lips. ‘Wait till you meet the family. Then, if you’re half as smart as I think you are, you’ll understand.’
Ginny looked away, fixing her attention on the view from the window. She wasn’t sure she wanted to meet any of his family. Then a small smile tweaked at her lips. Well, they were the Adams family, so what else could she expect?
‘What’s so funny?’ Roarke enquired, and Ginny, who hadn’t realised she was smiling, hastily composed her features.
‘Private joke,’ she murmured with a shrug, hoping to put him off asking further, which it did, but only set him off in another unexpected direction.
After giving her a doubtful look, as if he had guessed what she was thinking, he said, ‘So what about your family? They can’t be as gruesome as mine.’
It was an automatic response for Ginny to tense, though she had battled hard to feel nothing over the years. She tensed because the memories were as painful as they had ever been. Try as she might not to care, she knew in her heart of hearts that she always would.
‘I have no family,’ she told him shortly, knowing she sounded far too abrupt, which would only pique his irritating interest.
There was a second of surprise while he assimilated this, then he frowned as he made the logical assumption. ‘I’m sorry. I had no idea your parents were dead. You must miss them.’
Ginny had no intention of explaining anything to him, but, on the other hand, he was offering sympathy, and she couldn’t take that under false pretences either. Caught between a rock and a hard place, she felt compelled to put him straight. ‘They’re not dead,’ she corrected bluntly.
Beside her, Roarke’s eyebrows rose, then drew together in another frown. ‘You’re saying you don’t know who they are? That would explain the lack of photographs in your flat.’
Gritting her teeth, Ginny swivelled her head to give him a darkling look. ‘I’m not saying that at all. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d rather we changed the subject.’ She couldn’t be more pointed than that, but, as she had expected, Roarke ignored the heavy hint.
‘Hey, you can’t leave it there. You’ve got my mind buzzing with off-the-wall scenarios here. Besides, I told you about the skeletons in my family closet, so it’s only fair you should do the same,’ he cajoled her.
‘You volunteered the information,’ she was quick to point out. ‘I could have done with knowing less.’
Roarke grinned. ‘Come on now, sweetheart. You know you found it fascinating in a sort of perverse way.’
‘I did not!’ she denied, though she knew that wasn’t totally true.
‘Did too!’ he quipped back, making them sound like two children sniping at each other. It made her want to laugh, and she hated that he could do that to her.
She narrowed her eyes at him. ‘OK, so I didn’t find it completely uninteresting,’ she admitted, and held up her hand as he started to speak. ‘But that doesn’t mean I have to tell you anything about my family.’
‘So you do have one. I was beginning to think you sprang into this world fully formed,’ he mocked her, and Ginny sighed. He wasn’t going to give up unless she said something.
There was no way she could keep the reluctance from her expression, and she wasn’t laughing when she spoke. ‘I’ll tell you one thing, but only if you promise not to ask any more questions.’
The laughter faded from his grey eyes. ‘You make it sound like the end of the world.’
She held his gaze. ‘Your promise, Roarke.’
‘OK, I promise. No more questions, no matter what you say.’
Ginny glanced down at her hands, composing herself so that she would reveal nothing, not by a look or an expression. Her gaze was bland when she looked at him again. ‘Very well, I’ll tell you this much. I no longer exist,’ she told him quietly, and saw the myriad questions forming in his head. Yet she knew he wouldn’t let one of them pass his lips, for he had given his word and she knew that, once given, he would not go back on it.
Roarke sat back in his seat, puffing out a frustrated breath. ‘You realise this is going to drive me mad?’
That wasn’t her intention, for she wasn’t deliberately cruel. It had been her only defence to his probing questions. She couldn’t tell him that her family wasn’t dead to her, but that she was dead to her family. He would want to know why. She had had to shut him up and that had been the only way.
‘Best not to think about it, then,’ she advised, picking up one of the magazines she had bought to while away the flight with.
‘God, you’re an aggravating woman! Why didn’t you just say nothing?’ he demanded testily, and that made her lips quirk.
‘I tried that, but you insisted. You only have yourself to blame. Something for you to remember in future. Curiosity can be a dangerous thing,’ she told him with a husky laugh.
The sound of her laugh brought a rueful expression to his face. ‘You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?’
Ginny couldn’t help but laugh again. ‘There’s a certain amusement in the situation.’
‘I had no idea you could be so nasty.’
She shook her head sadly. ‘I told you. You…’
‘…only have myself to blame. Thank you for rubbing salt into the wound. It’s made me feel a lot better,’ Roarke muttered grumpily, but she could tell there was no real animosity in it. He had been well and truly hoist by his own petard.
Secure in the knowledge that she had headed him off at the pass, Ginny concentrated on her magazine until her eyes began to close. Knowing sleep would make the journey pass more quickly, she settled her seat into a more comfortable position and was asleep in seconds.