Ginny did a swift mental double-take. Daniel made the visit sound as if she was being presented for inspection, and whether or not he married her depended on his mother’s report. She didn’t much care for the sound of that, for good reason. Her father had insisted on vetting her boyfriends, and for the most part had found them wanting. They had not been welcome in his house and she had been compelled to follow his dictates until she was old enough not to need his approval.
To find herself on the receiving end of a similar situation now, when she had put all that behind her, made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. There was no way she was prepared to go through that.
‘Does it really matter if she likes me, Daniel? After all, I’m going out with you, not her.’ She tried to make light of it, seeking reassurance.
She got it—of a sort. ‘I suppose not,’ he agreed uncomfortably, then laughed. ‘No, no, of course it doesn’t. Though I would prefer her to like you. There’s no reason why she shouldn’t, of course. It’s simply that I’ve always sought her opinion on the important things,’ Daniel explained, as if that would make it acceptable.
Ginny swallowed her unease. The situations weren’t the same. All she would be doing was meeting his parents. It had to happen eventually. ‘I shall do my best to make her like me, if that will make you happy. All we have to do is postpone the visit for a few weeks.’ If it was important to him, then she would bite the bullet. As he said, there was no reason why his mother shouldn’t like her. She shouldn’t allow the past to cloud the present.
Daniel looked relieved. ‘That would be wonderful. I just know she’s going to like you. My mother has a very discerning eye.’
Ginny let the matter rest there, but later, when she was lying in her bed trying to sleep, the conversation went over and over in her mind. An uncomfortable feeling of déjà vu came over her. Daniel was the man she’d settled for, but she didn’t want to have to battle his mother for him, and that was what she feared was going to happen. She had been through that, and wasn’t about to let it happen again. But maybe she was seeing bogeymen where there were none. After all, she was predisposed to balk at the idea of being inspected. It would be best to reserve judgement until she had met his parents.
They couldn’t be as bad as her own. Nobody’s could. With which comforting thought she was finally able to drift off to sleep.
The rest of the week was hectic, and Friday came round all too quickly. As she packed for the trip that evening, Ginny decided she was out of her mind. Not only had she bought a new outfit for the occasion, which would have been acceptable, but she had bought several other things as well. For a trip she hadn’t wanted to go on, and certainly wasn’t looking forward to. The truth of the matter was that she couldn’t just turn out in any old rag. Never mind she was going to be playing a part, these people were Roarke’s family, and a wedding was a very special occasion. She couldn’t bring any sort of disharmony to the day by treating it as a non-event. Besides, she had the feeling Jenna Adams would be dressed in only the best, and there was no way she would let the woman upstage her.
A glance at her watch told Ginny that Roarke would be here soon. Closing the case, she took it out to the hall, then double-checked that she had her passport in her handbag. Which left her with nothing to do but wait, and nerves started to churn in her stomach. They had nothing to do with flying, because she was well used to it. Nor was it due to the fact that she was travelling with Roarke, for she had done that countless times too. No, the nerves were due to the fact she hated waiting. Waiting gave her time to think, and her thoughts were rarely pleasant.
She had learned to keep herself busy, to always have something on hand in which to engross herself, but she couldn’t do that now because Roarke was due any minute. She paced to the window of her flat and stared down at the road, but no car was pulling up. Where was he?
The silent question triggered a memory, and she could see herself looking out of the window of that grotty bedsit, waiting for Mark to come home so she could tell him her news. He had never come. Instead he had abandoned her to a terrifying future which had ultimately led to tragedy. She had waited that night, too. Alone in the dark, in pain.
‘No!’ With a low moan Ginny spun round, closing out the thoughts. She wouldn’t go there. Not again.
The sound of the intercom buzzing made her jump, but it was closely followed by a sense of relief. He was here. She crossed to the intercom.
‘Hello?’
‘It’s Roarke,’ his disembodied voice informed her.
‘Top floor, on the right,’ she directed him, pressing the door release. She just had time to catch him muttering, ‘It would be, wouldn’t it!’
Ginny went to the door to meet him. To her eyes he didn’t look the least bit out of breath when he reached her.
‘Hasn’t anyone ever thought of installing a lift?’ he complained, and she shook her head at him.
‘It’s only three floors.’
‘But six flights,’ he was quick to point out.
‘Quit complaining. You’re the fittest man I know,’ Ginny responded dryly. She knew for a fact that he worked out regularly, and though she had never seen it, she suspected there wasn’t a spare ounce of flesh on the whole of his body.
‘Remind me never to come to you for sympathy,’ Roarke muttered as he glanced around. ‘Is this it?’ he asked, pointing to her single case.
Ginny nodded. ‘It’s all I shall need for a few days,’ she confirmed, though she was well aware she had packed too much.
Roarke hefted her case and laughed. ‘My mother never travels with less than thirty pieces of luggage.’
Ginny couldn’t imagine having the clothes to fill them. ‘Think about the excess she must have to pay!’ she exclaimed in amazement.
‘Think of the pandemonium that arises every time she thinks a piece is missing!’ Roarke countered sardonically, and Ginny winced.
‘Ouch. Does that happen often?’
‘Nearly every time. You see, life has to be a drama for her. She’s the prima donna to end all prima donnas. It wouldn’t surprise me if my sister is marrying this man just to get away from our mother,’ he declared outrageously.
‘Oh, but surely she loves him,’ Ginny protested, uneasy at the idea that any woman would do such a thing.
Roarke shrugged indifferently. ‘She probably thinks she does.’
‘Thinks she does?’ Ginny challenged as she pulled the door closed behind her and checked it was securely shut.
Roarke started down the stairs. ‘Caroline is very much like our mother. She can convince herself of anything. If she wants to get away from Mother’s influence, she could well have convinced herself she loves this guy.’ He took time out to shoot her a mocking glance over his shoulder. ‘You might have gathered that relationships aren’t our thing. Caro’s a brilliant flautist, but emotionally she’s caught in the fallout of our parents’ broken relationships like the rest of us. I give this marriage a fifty-fifty chance at best.’
Having reached the ground, Roarke held the door open for her. ‘You don’t expect it to last?’ Ginny asked as she walked outside.
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