One Passionate Night: His Bride for One Night / One Night at Parenga / His One-Night Mistress. Robyn Donald
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a woman’s voice answered when he punched in the number six.
‘This is Mr Bannister in the Arabian Nights suite. We’d like to order some breakfast.’
‘Yes, of course, Mr Bannister. What would you like? Lots of newlyweds opt for the champagne breakfast.’
‘I don’t think so.’ They’d had more than enough champagne last night. ‘We need something far more substantial this morning. We’ll have muesli, freshly squeezed orange juice, bacon and eggs, wholemeal toast and brewed coffee.’
‘Yes, Mr Bannister. And when would you like that delivered?’
‘Make it eleven.’ That gave him time to shower and shave.
‘Very good, sir.’
Daniel hung up, got up and glanced around for something to put on, but there was nothing but the clothes he’d worn the day before. His bag was in the dressing room and the only access to that was through the bathroom. Not wanting to burst in on Charlotte again, he strode out to the sitting area, where he knew he’d left a towel during the night.
As he swept it up from where it was spread over the coffee-table, images flashed back into his mind of an abandoned Charlotte spread out across that table whilst he’d made love to her.
Daniel’s chest contracted at the memory of how it had felt, taking her like that. It had been wild. She’d been wild.
For a girl with so little experience, Charlotte had been very quick to embrace the delights of the flesh. If Daniel had any worries this morning, they lay in the fact that sex might be the only thing Charlotte would ever want from him. However, she’d been quite adamant the other day about wanting marriage and children, and having no intention of settling for less.
Which rather left Daniel in a dilemma. Because no way was he marrying any woman, no matter how much he loved her!
Daniel froze, with the towel dangling in front of him.
Love. He loved her.
Well, of course you do, you idiot, came the exasperated voice of long-ignored logic. Why else do you think you’ve been acting the way you have? Pursuing her like some madman. Going through with that pretend wedding. Turning yourself inside out last night to make her feel fulfilled.
No man does all that if he’s not in love!
Daniel slumped down on the nearest sofa, stunned. Somehow, admitting that he loved her changed everything. And forced him to face a fear far greater than his fear of marriage.
What if Charlotte never loved him back? What if, after the next few days were over, she said ‘Goodbye, Daniel. Thanks for all the great sex. Off you go, lover. No, sorry, I don’t want your love and I don’t want you. I want a man capable of true caring and commitment, not some man who has no confidence in himself being a good husband and father’?
Daniel bristled at these imagined insults. Of course he could make a good husband and father. Now that he realised he was capable of love, he was capable of anything!
His sigh carried relief. That felt better. Much better. In fact, once the idea of marrying Charlotte took hold, Daniel liked it a lot. He even liked the idea of having children with her. She’d make a wonderful mother.
One problem still remained, however. Getting Charlotte to fall in love with him. Lusting after him was one thing, love something entirely different. He knew that now.
Daniel might have succumbed to a crisis of confidence if his male ego hadn’t galloped to the rescue.
You’ve had no trouble getting women to fall in love with you in the past, he was reminded. You have a hell of a lot going for you.
Still, it might help to tell Charlotte he’d fallen in love with her, and that he’d changed his mind about getting married.
He would have to pick his moment, however. Not too soon. She might not believe him. No, he would have to wait. Meanwhile…
Daniel stood up, wrapped the towel around his hips and headed for the bathroom. The sound of water running had stopped. Hopefully Charlotte was dressed by now. Still, he would knock and make sure.
Charlotte was about to start blow-drying her hair when a firm tap came on the bathroom door.
‘Yes?’
‘I’ve ordered breakfast for eleven,’ Daniel called through the door. ‘I need to shower and shave before then. Are you finished in there?’
She wasn’t. Not even remotely. But the hair-dryer wasn’t one of those connected to the wall, so she could finish her face and hair elsewhere. There was a carved wooden desk in the sitting area, she’d noted last night, with a gilt-edged mirror on the wall above it. That could serve as a dressing table.
But she was disappointed that Daniel would see her as Louise did most mornings. She’d wanted to be all made up for him, with her hair looking as if she’d just stepped out of a salon.
Oh, well. At least she had a new outfit on, one of the ones she’d bought to wear on her honeymoon. Crisp white hipster jeans—the stretch kind that clung and didn’t crush—teamed with a buttercup-yellow halter-necked top and white slip-on sandals. Strappy ones with sexy little heels.
Thinking of sex brought Charlotte’s mind to her underwear, which was very sexy but not altogether comfortable. Her bra was a silky cream push-up number she’d bought in that expensive lingerie shop. There was a matching G-string with a lace edging, which looked great.
Picking up the hair-dryer and her toilet bag, Charlotte reluctantly clip-clopped across the black marble floor and opened the door.
Daniel tried not to stare at her. Love, they often said, was blind. In his case, however, it was anything but. As he looked down into her freshly washed face and clear blue eyes, he was overcome with emotion.
He almost told her he loved her right then and there.
Instead he swore, which brought a startled glance to her beautiful eyes.
‘Sorry,’ he apologised rather grumpily. ‘But you have no right to look so damned gorgeous this morning. You should be all bleary-eyed. Like me.’
Bleary-eyed! Was he kidding? He looked scrumptious, that designer stubble on his chin only adding to his sex appeal. As did his only having a towel draped around his hips. Daniel had a great upper body, with broad shoulders, well-defined pecs and a flat, hard stomach.
Charlotte knew she was staring at the man quite shamelessly. But she didn’t care. She was totally besotted.
‘I’ve been thinking,’ she said. Anything to get her mind off ripping that towel off him, right here and now. ‘What’s your sister going to say to your going away with me today? I mean…she’s the one you’ve come all this way to visit, after all.’
‘She won’t mind,’ he returned abruptly. ‘I can always extend my visit.’
Charlotte’s heart jumped at this news. ‘Really? I thought you had to return to LA in a fortnight.’
He shrugged. ‘I’m my own boss.’
‘Oh. I see. Good. I wouldn’t want you getting into trouble because of me.’ And with a supreme effort of will she pushed past him. ‘All yours,’ she said blithely over her shoulder as she walked off.
Once the bathroom door was safely shut behind her and she heard the shower taps snap on, Charlotte bolted for the other room, dropping her things on one of the sofas and picking up the phone. Once she had an outside line she punched in her home number. She simply had to talk to Louise, had to have some common sense talked to her. And fast!
‘Yes,’ a foggy voice answered.
‘Louise, it’s me. Wake up.’
‘Charlotte! Brad, it’s Charlotte!’
‘I don’t want a three-way