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Da
‘I’m not in my dotage, Da
The younger man’s cheeks were slightly flushed. ‘No, of course not. I just…well, I didn’t think… It’s good to see you, Marcus,’ Da
‘Is it?’ the older man drawled, dark brows raised mockingly.
Joy looked more intently at Marcus Ballantyne; he obviously shared her opinion that Da
As he turned that probing blue gaze in her direction, Joy suddenly knew exactly why.
There was no mistaking the admiration in that gaze as it swept over her appraisingly. Joy felt a quiver of awareness down her spine as she seemed unable to break that searching blue gaze.
This had never happened to her before. She had never been instantly physically aware of a man in her life before. But there was something about the hard lines of Marcus Ballantyne’s face that was mesmerising; the lean length of his body in the casually expensive clothes exuded a physical magnetism that Joy couldn’t help being completely aware of.
She shifted uncomfortably as he continued to look at her. This was ridiculous! She wasn’t some star-struck teenager, but a grown woman of twenty-seven, and certainly not the type to be impressed by a man whose face was famous enough for him to be recognised wherever he went. Hadn’t she instantly recognised him herself, although she rarely watched television or went to the cinema?
She turned away abruptly as she realised how stupidly she was behaving, and looked at Da
‘Introduce us, Da
Da
‘Why?’ Marcus Ballantyne addressed the question to Joy, totally ignoring the younger man now as he pulled out the chair beside her and sat down without being invited to do so.
Which brought him all the closer to her, and Joy could feel her hands shaking slightly as she clasped them together beneath the table. This man was something else, unlike anyone she had ever met before. No wonder he was so much in demand both on television and the big screen; he was magnetic. And Joy could feel herself being drawn unresistingly towards him. Unresisting because she simply couldn’t break the spell of that steady gaze.
‘Why Joy?’ he repeated huskily, leaning forward slightly, effectively cutting Da
She moistened lips that felt suddenly dry. ‘Casey is…It’s an old family name,’ she told him truthfully, wondering if that slightly breathless voice could really be her own. But she knew it was, knew she had never felt such emotional confusion, knew her usual capable efficiency was deserting her. ‘I prefer my other name—Joy.’ She had refused pointblank to spend the whole evening with Da
‘So do I,’ Marcus Ballantyne told her huskily. ‘Much more…feminine.’ His tone implied that that was exactly what he thought she was.
Joy swallowed hard, knowing she was—subtly— being flirted with. Ridiculous. She was a librarian from a small rural town in the south of England—
‘And what do you do, Joy?’ That cobalt-blue gaze continued to hold hers.
It was almost as if by doing so he had been able to read her thoughts. He obviously knew she wasn’t an actress, otherwise their paths would probably have crossed before. But, somehow, just baldly stating that she worked in her local library didn’t seem appropriate—
‘Joy lives out of town.’ Da
She gave him a startled look at this explanation. What on earth…?
Marcus Ballantyne relaxed back in his chair now, watching her from beneath brooding brows. ‘She doesn’t look that old to me,’ he finally drawled.
Da
Joy knew what he was implying too—and she didn’t like it one little bit! Why was Da
‘Yes,’ the older man acknowledged gratingly, still looking at Joy. ‘But that still doesn’t tell me—’
‘Marcus, I think your group of friends are trying to let you know they’re leaving,’ Da
A rather attractive blonde, probably in her early twenties, was looking pointedly over at Marcus Ballantyne now as the rest of the group prepared to leave. Joy vaguely recognised her as an actress who had briefly appeared in a long-ru
He studied Joy for several more long, lingering seconds before turning uninterestedly towards the other table, his mouth twisting with irritation as he saw the young blonde looking so longingly towards him. ‘Excuse me for a few minutes.’ He stood up in one fluid movement. ‘But I’ll be back,’ he added, looking down at Joy again before turning to walk purposefully across the room to his friends.
Joy wasted no time, once he had gone, in turning accusingly to Da
Da
It was all suddenly clear to Joy: Da
‘Please, Joy.’ Da
She could understand why he didn’t want the older man to know he had been a prize in a competition, and was sure Marcus Ballantyne would never have put himself in such a position. Obviously it had fed Da
‘I’ll tell you what,’ Da
‘No! Er—no,’ she refused, less desperately than her initial outburst. “That really won’t be necessary, Da