Authors Note: Sorry for the long delay, life got in the way for a while. I hope the chapter comes up to expectations and before you ask, I'm busy scribbling updates for my other stories as well. The disclaimer is in the first chapter.
Chapter Four
He felt sick. There was no other description for the churning feeling in is stomach that seemed to twist and retwist into knots. How had it all gone so wrong? The question slid through Blaise's mind like a mocking snake, taunting him until he could barely think at all. One moment all had been well between them, more than well, the next she had gone, just like that!
He rubbed a hand across the cheek Ginny had slapped mere hours ago, but what felt to him like a lifetime. He could still remember the feel of her palm, warm and slightly callused against his sensitised skin. The look of disgust she had thrown at him was enough to make him flinch even now, in the privacy of his darkened sitting room. If looks could kill, that one would be lethal.
Getting up, he paced across to the partially open French windows and let the cool breeze from the moonlit gardens wash over his flushed skin. He had to act, to try and put right the disaster of the previous night and quickly, before any more damage could be done.
The plan which had been formulating in his mind for the past few hours had to work. Again, he went over it in minute detail, trying to detect any flaws which could upset things. There were none. If all went well, she would soon be more than willing to forgive him and then he could start working his veela power over her. Before she knew what was happening, she would be his! At this thought, his body relaxed and for the first time since their argument, he breathed easily.
Going across to a teak desk set to one side of the huge fireplace, he took a piece of embossed stationary from a drawer, and picked up a quill. There was no time like the present to set things in motion. Dipping his quill into ink, he began to write:
'Dear Ginny,
As impossible as it may seem to you, I am writing to apologise for my actions of last night. I deeply regret having offended you and hope that you will forgive what was an unintentional blunder on my part.'
He paused and looked down at the parchment, deep in thought. It wouldn't do to sound too apologetic, she would see right through that. No, best to get to business – he dipped his quill into the ink again.
'You may have heard of the inter Island Quidditch match which is taking place this evening. The match is an annual event between the eastern and western sides of the Island, all proceeds of which go to a selection of charities sponsored by Ethosa. We are currently a few players short on the Western team and, remembering what a formidable Quidditch player you were at Hogwarts, I wonder if you would like to play. Of course there is no obligation on you to do so, but knowing how much you love Quidditch, it would be criminal of me not to ask. Please let one of the hotel staff know if you would like to take part and the necessary Quidditch gear will be made available for your use.
Once again, I apologise for inadvertently offending you last night,
Blaise'
He stared down at his signature wondering whether to add anything else but decided against it. Hopefully the offer to play in the match would deflect her attention from the events of the evening before and his part in them. Summoning one of the Zabini owls, he tied the parchment to its leg and watched as it soared into the dawn. All being well, she should receive the note at breakfast.
Pulling another piece of parchment towards him, he began to write a second letter, this time addressed to his holdings manager in England. The quill moved with fluid strokes as he penned his instructions to the British wizard. The letter should reach England by the afternoon and soon all Ginny's illusions about her fiancé would be smashed to dust and the skunk wouldn't be able to show his face in wizarding society. Summoning one of his mother's best trained Habetans with a flick of his wrist; he attached the letter to the bird's scaly leg.
"Tell Jones that my instructions must be carried out to the letter and as soon as possible! Don't linger on your way to Britain," he instructed the grumpy parrot.
The bird shot him a baleful look, not pleased to be sent on such a long errand and so early. "You are a rude cretin," it croaked, but Blaise ignored it, waving it out of the window before he turned away.
Now for the last but most important part of his plan. Striding across to the fireplace, he threw in a fistful of floo powder and watched as the green flames erupted into life. Sticking his head into them, he called, "Cavalack!"
He blinked as his head stopped spinning and looked around him. The room into which he was peering was dimly lit, the curtains partially drawn against the fingers of morning sunlight that were starting to cross the sky.
"Alice?" he called, hoping the old crone would be awake at this hour.
There was a sound of shuffling footsteps and an old woman came into view, wearing a dressing gown and a glower. "And what do you want so early in the morning?" she groused, coming across to the fireplace and seating herself with difficulty on a stool before it.
Alice was old, with a good few teeth missing. Her face was a mass of wrinkles out of which shone a pair of black beady eyes which could make the most confident of wizards flinch. She lived with one of her many grandsons and his family, and it was recognised by all who lived on the island that she was a force to be reckoned with. No one got on her bad side if they could help it. If you wanted something done on the island with minimum fuss, you asked Alice. All the locals of the Island, the inhabitants of Greenlawns included, were related to the old witch in some way so it wasn't difficult for her to pull strings that Blaise with all his wealth and power would have difficulty operating. His request this morning, however, was a simple one.
Instead of answering her question, he began, "I hope I didn't wake you."
"I doubt it would bother you if you did," she retorted, giving him one of her searching looks which he met head on.
"Now Alice, I would be deeply disturbed if I had interrupted your beauty sleep!"
Alice let out a loud bark of laughter in contrast to her wizened frame. "You always were a charmer, Blaise Zabini! So what brings you here so early on this morning?"
"I have a request which I hope you can help with," he said, picking his words with care.
"Oh? It's not often you ask for my help, what has got you into such a tizz then?" She made herself comfortable on her stool and leaned forward with interest.
"Have the Western team for this evening's match got their seven players?" He asked.
The old woman's eyes narrowed in speculation. "Hmm now, well let's think. Carlton, my great grandson, was saying the other day that they had but he wasn't satisfied with the quality of some of them. There's no point in having teams which aren't equally matched, it makes the game very boring!"
"Who's playing seeker for them?" he asked.
"The Johnson boy, why?"
Blaise's eyes narrowed in thought, and he ignored her question. "And the chasers?"
"Karen Adwyn, Tom Shelton, and Alex Higgs, the usual lot."
"Well, Tom Johnson can't play," he stated emphatically.
Alice's sparse brows rose in enquiry and not a little relish. "And why is that may I ask?"
"I need someone else to play in his stead. Someone who is a lot better, I might add."
"I see, and who may this be?" she asked, knobbly hands clasped round her knees as she peered at him.
"One of the Grand's guests - a young woman who arrived two days ago from Britain."
Suddenly he had Alice's full attention. She leaned forward eagerly, her beady eyes gleaming. "Ah yes, the little redhead, she's causing quite a stir. You wouldn't happen to know anything of her? "
Trust Alice to have heard all about Ginny by now. The old bat probably knew every detail about her wardrobe, what she ate at each meal and so on.
"That depends, arrange that she plays seeker and I'll satisfy your curiosity," he drawled.
Alice shifted on her stool, and took a mug of hot chocolate from a house elf standing out of Blaise's line of vision. She took a sip, lips pursed. "Hmm, an interesting bargain. What's in it for you if she plays seeker?" she responded swiftly.
"Ah, that would be telling," he countered sweetly, enjoying this battle of wits. "Do you want to know about her or not? I went to school with the girl you know!"
He waited and as he had known, she snatched the bait. "Really? Now there is something." She thought for a moment, then nodded her grizzled grey head. "OK, I'll do it. The Johnson lad will drop out and she can play seeker, though the work I'll have to do to arrange it had better be worth your information."
Blaise smiled. All she had to do, as they both well knew, was tell the hotel manager, her great grandson, to tell the boy in question he was no longer playing. "Thanks, now what do you want to know about her?"
"Everything! She's a fascinating young woman, very magical and yet unattached. I don't understand it," Alice grumbled. "Why, Candida was saying last night that she had seen the girl go underwater for hours yesterday morning without having to resurface. Most people I know can't do that!"
"She's trained to do it," he grinned. "It's what she does to earn a living."
She dismissed this with a wave, "Yes I know that, but still. Then there's that incident of the other night…"
"You mean the incident of the ring?" he asked. "No one knows what happened there, least of all me." Alice had a knack of finding things out as soon as they had happened. No doubt she already knew that Ginny had dined at Greenlawns the night before.
Sure enough, her next words confirmed this. "I hear you and she have already been catching up, so tell me about her."
"Her name is Ginevra Molly Weasley and as you probably know, she comes from an old British pureblood family," he started.
"The Weasleys have been around for generations," Alice mused. "Good blood stock. So go on."
Blaise couldn't help smirking at this casual reference to a family who prided themselves on anything but their blood status. "I knew Ginny at Hogwarts; her brother was in my year. They're a feisty lot, good friends with the famous Potter!"
Her eyes widened. "Really? Do they still keep in touch with him?"
Blaise knew that the old woman was an addicted fan of Harry Potter; she followed his movements obsessively in all the newspapers and magazines she could lay her bony hands on. To have someone on the island who had known him very well was almost as good as meeting him in the flesh.
"I don't know, probably."
"Oh Blaise, you're so infuriating! You went to school with him and have told me next to nothing about him," she scowled. This was a frequent complaint of the old bats and he ignored it as usual.
"Getting back to the subject in hand," he smirked enjoying her annoyance, "I don't know much more about Ginny than that."
"What I want to know," Alice said abandoning the topic of Potter for the time being, "is why she's still single. With looks and a background like that, she should have been snatched up the moment she left school."
He laughed, "There could be any number of reasons. She may not have found the right person yet."
"And that's where you come in is it?" the old woman guessed shrewdly. "You want the girl yourself. Interesting."
"Why?"
"Well, she doesn't strike me as your type."
He raised an enquiring brow. "Oh I don't know."
"Blaise, you love them and leave them, always have done. If you want a quickie with this girl, it won't be so easy, her family will see to that."
Deciding the conversation had strayed off course for long enough, he shrugged noncommittally. "So you'll arrange it?" he asked again.
She nodded. "Yes, but on your head be it if they turn nasty. Anyway, this girl intrigues me, I will have one of the boys take me to the match I think so I can see her for myself. Maybe have a nice cosy chat afterwards."
Blaise nodded and took his leave. A moment later, he pulled his head out of the green flames in his fireplace and stood up. The stage was set for the evening's game, now all he had to do was trust in the weather to play its part.
XoXoXoXo
Excitement washed through Ginny as she made her way downstairs into the hotel foyer, which was packed with people. A small group like herself were dressed in black, tight-fitting Quidditch outfits while everyone else sported large banners and flags.
"Ginny, there you are," Helen Langley, a well built young woman in her late thirties called, waving across to her. "Over here, I want one last meeting before we go to the Quidditch stadium."
With difficulty, Ginny pushed through the crowd to Helen's side. Waiting with her were the other five members of the team, all looking excited.
"Ready?" Karen Adwyn, one of the chasers asked, grinning. "This is one of the best matches of the lot."
"As ready as I'll ever be," Ginny replied, feeling nervous.
"You'll be fine," Helen, who was a beater, assured her. "You fly like a dream, better than any of us! Now everyone, there's a strong cross current this evening, nothing to worry about but watch out for it."
"Are you ready to go to the stadium?" Carlton, looking as excited as anyone had come up to them. "Best to check out the conditions before hand."
Everyone nodded and they moved across to the apparition point to one side of the large front doors.
"Ginny, you'd best hold on to me," Tom Shelton another chaser, said, taking her arm. "You don't want to end up at the wrong place now do you?"
She shook her head and a moment later they had disapparated to appear beside the large Quidditch pitch. The stands on the other side were filling with excited spectators, most sporting Omnioculars as they took their places.
A tall, slim witch with olive skin and bright, dark eyes was standing in the centre of the pitch, clutching a broomstick and wearing a haughty, self-satisfied smirk as she surveyed the Western team.
"Ah, I see Malina's here already," Tom said dryly, eyeing the woman with dislike.
Helen gave a snort of derision. "Well, we all know why she's here!" The rest of the team also sniggered as they eyed the haughty witch with definite hostility.
"Why's that?" Ginny asked perplexed.
"To see his lordship of course! It's well known they shag on occasion so by being nice to him during these matches, she thinks he'll take her to bed," the other woman said with contempt.
"And does he?" Ginny asked, feeling her stomach clench for no apparent reason.
"Only when there's no one better around," Philip, the other beater, a sandy haired man in his fifties smirked. "She's the only one who can't see that he uses her. Ah well, discussing those two won't win us the match!"
"No, she'll make sure it won't," Helen snapped. "Bitch, she always favours their team."
The other team, dressed in blue, were marching onto the pitch, Blaise Zabini carrying a beaters bat, among them. Ginny tried hard not to notice how his Quidditch clothes which fit him like a second skin, outlined his athletic frame leaving nothing to the imagination.
"Time to mount, good luck everyone," Helen called as Melina gave Blaise a dazzling smile and blew her whistle.
XoXoXoXo
Blaise mounted with the other players, his mind not on the game but the redhead circling well above, her eyes darting about for the snitch. She flew with a fluidity that made the others look like bumbling amateurs and he knew it wouldn't be long until the game was over. Ginny had probably been reared on competitive Quidditch, unlike most of the others who saw it as an enjoyable pastime and nothing more. He had to keep close to her until the moment was right.
In the first five minutes, Melina had awarded his team a free penalty for nothing at all, and he laughed inwardly at her pathetic attempts to ingratiate herself with him. Never again would he even look at another woman, the only one he would ever want was circling above him, indifference stamped into every line of her compact form.
The game continued and although Ginny seemed to see the snitch twice, it had flitted out of sight by the time she had turned her broom to go after it. Blaise noticed that she wasn't finding flying as easy in Ethosa as Britain, the cross currents in the warmer climate of Ethosa knocking her off course if she didn't watch out for them.
Then she went into a dive. The snitch was hovering by one of the goalposts at his team's end. She sped up, intent on the speck of gold fluttering above the goalposts. He watched, hardly daring to breathe, while she put on a burst of speed and, taking one hand from her broom, caught the struggling snitch in her palm.
He had to admire the catch; the woman did indeed know a thing or two about Quidditch, much to his satisfaction. Swiftly he closed the gap between them, hoping his chance would come soon, especially as she was distracted and not paying as much attention as she should to her broom. His nerves tightened, and he braced himself.
It was as the whistle blew and the cheers erupted that it happened. Ginny turned, intending to head down to the ground, one hand still clutching the snitch while the other controlled the broom. A current of warm Ethosian air sliced beneath her broom knocking it off course. The broom jerked sideways and she lost her balance and was almost toppled from the broom. He saw the look of panic on her face as desperately, she tried to grasp the broom with her knees and hands attempting to right herself, but she had been thrown too far to the left for this to be possible. Hovering beside her, he reached out and pulled her from her wildly spinning broom on to his own.
Gasping, she stared up at him, eyes wide with fright.
"You're ok, I've got you!" he murmured, settling her shaking form in front of him and speeding towards the ground, one arm wrapped securely around her. His plan had worked with no intervention from him.
"I…I…" she gasped as they landed and he helped her from the broom.
"What's wrong with her?" Melina's loud voice was an unwelcome intrusion into the moment and he looked up, eyes cold as he threw aside his beater's bat.
"She slipped, that's what," he answered tersely, annoyed.
"Useless! If you can't fly, why play in the match?" Melina sneered, eyes narrowed as she glared at Ginny, who was trembling with shock in Blaise's arms.
His annoyance at the other woman was growing; he would deal with her later. Ginny's team members were landing around her, wearing expressions of concern as they dismounted and hurried across to them.
"Ginny, are you ok?" an anxious Helen asked.
"Yes…I…" Ginny stammered, still dazed.
"She needs a drink and peace," Blaise said as spectators began to make their way onto the pitch. "Ginny come on, we'll go back to the Grand." If he didn't get her away from here and soon, they would monopolise her and he wanted her to himself.
"What happened?" an anxious Carlton asked, reaching them and peering down at Ginny's white face.
"I slipped sideways on my broom," Ginny explained shakily. "It happened so fast and…"
"Not to worry, no damage was done. A drink and a rest and you'll soon be back to normal," Carlton assured. "Apparating is out of the question in your condition so it'll have to be a portkey."
"What a catch though," one of her team members crowed in delight. "It must be a record!"
Ginny made to pull away from Blaise but he held her firmly. "Careful, you're not steady on your feet, lean on me," he instructed, tightening his arm round her. Then turning to Carlton he said, "Could you construct a portkey to take us back to the hotel? The sooner Ginny gets some rest, the better."
The other man nodded and pulled a comb from his pocket. In seconds, the portkey was ready and he handed it to Blaise. Ginny took hold of it, gulping as she did so. Immediately the familiar tug at his naval jerked them away from the ground and he took the opportunity to hug Ginny closer to him.
They soon arrived and the moment his feet hit the floor of the hotel, he hoisted Ginny into his arms and moved towards the stairs, relishing the feel of her curvaceous body against his. He breathed in the scent of her silky hair, under his cheek and hoped it wouldn't be long before he could do this on a regular basis without needing an excuse.
"Put me down," she demanded, struggling against his firm grip.
"Hush, we're nearly there," he soothed, holding her more securely, enjoying the closeness of their bodies.
"No, I want to be put down." She pushed against his chest for emphasis.
People were arriving back in the reception area and he quickened his steps anxious to reach the sanctuary of her suite before anyone intruded.
"Please, I'm ok now and am perfectly capable of walking," she continued, throwing an anxious look over his shoulder at the people below.
"I'm sure you are," he drawled, "but why risk it? Best to be safe." He was walking down the corridor now. "Which is your suite?"
Scowling, she indicated it. He stopped before it and with practiced ease cast the spell to unlock the door using wandless magic. The lock clicked and the door swung open.
"How did you do that?" she asked with a frown as he carried her into the cool sitting room.
"Do what?" he responded, reluctantly laying her on the sofa before going over to the bar and pouring a brandy.
She kicked off her Quidditch shoes and lay back. Sitting beside her, he put the glass to her lips. "Drink this; it'll make you feel better."
With a none too steady hand, she made to take the glass but he shook his head. "No, I'll hold it, you just drink."
She would have protested but he tipped the glass and the fiery spirit slid into her mouth and down her throat making her cough.
"I don't like brandy," she complained, wiping her eyes.
The door was pushed open and the hotel manager entered the room. "Excellent, just the thing to steady your nerves, Ginny," he said, looking with approval at the glass in Blaise's hand.
Blaise nodded hiding his irritation at the man. "One more sip," he told Ginny, and obediently, she swallowed another mouthful of the drink.
"No more," she gasped turning away and he put the glass down on the table beside them.
"How are you feeling, Ginny?" Carlton asked solicitously.
Blaise's lips tightened for a second before his face took on a neutral expression. He didn't like the familiar way the other man was addressing her, it was not professional in the least!
"I'm ok thanks. A bit shaken but I'll live."
"Shall I call a healer to take a look at you?" Carlton asked maddeningly.
She shook her head. "There's no need for that, I'm not hurt, just shaken."
"That's more than understandable. Carlton, it's best if she sees no one this evening, to allow her time to rest of course," Blaise said, his gaze on the door. If the git didn't get out soon, Blaise would hex him.
He draped an arm over Ginny's prone form as he spoke. "I'll stay with her for a while, in case she needs anything."
"Right," Carlton replied uncertainly, looking between them.
"Excellent, be sure to tell everyone that Ginny doesn't wish to be disturbed," Blaise said dismissively shooting the other man a speaking look.
"I will," Carlton nodded and finally left the room, shutting the door behind him.
Glaring, Ginny turned to a smiling Blaise. "Look, I don't need you or anyone else to stay with me thanks, so you can just go." The brandy had definitely restored her fighting spirit.
"That's a nice way to thank the man who has just saved your life, I must say," he responded silkily leaning back at his ease, her warm body pressed against his side.
He saw that she was disconcerted by his words. "As to that, I'm grateful to you of course," she said grudgingly, "But there's no need for you to stay any longer, you've done more than enough already."
He laughed softly, eyes glittering as they moved over her prone form in its figure-hugging Quidditch clothes which emphasized every curve. "Have I? I don't call sitting with you for a few hours too much to ask, do you?"
"But there's no need for it," she protested again, shielding her breasts with her arms as she noticed his gaze. "I'm fine now, honestly." Then looking as though the words were costing her dearly, she added, "I don't know how to thank you for saving me earlier."
His smile grew broader and he cupped her cheek with his hand. "Oh there are plenty of ways." Her skin was soft and smooth beneath his palm and he resisted the urge to bend his head and kiss it.
"Well, I can't think of any," she replied, not looking at him. Her shoulders were hunched in an attitude of rejection and he knew that she was contemplating without pleasure the consequences of his actions for her – most likely wondering if she owed him a wizarding life debt.
He breathed in deeply, allowing her intoxicating scent to wash over him, as nonchalantly he stretched. "That game did tire me, I must be out of practice," he drawled.
"Hardly, it only lasted ten minutes, if that," she scoffed and made to sit up.
Blaise pulled her down beside him. "Relax; your body needs the rest. Ten minutes it may have been, but you still received a nasty shock. It's the cross-currents in this place, I told you."
"I'm aware of that thanks. It was just that one moment when I was off my guard that it hit me. How do people here put up with them?" she retorted, annoyed.
"Easily. They'd have problems flying in England; it's a case of getting used to it." Her proximity was having an effect on his body and mind. The instinct to mark and take her was becoming hard to ignore and he felt his arousal, always in evidence when she was around, start to become painful. He was very glad of the disillusionment charm he had cast on that part of his anatomy earlier.
It would be so easy to make her his now, she was vulnerable and wouldn't put up too much of a fight, but she would probably not forgive him for the next fifty years and nothing was worth that! He shuddered at the thought, earning him an odd look from Ginny.
"Are you ok?" she asked brows raised.
"Fine thanks." He got up and went across to the window, which looked out onto the darkening beach. If he didn't put some distance between them, he would lose the small amount of control he had and she wasn't ready for that yet. "This is a far cry from Britain's dreary weather," he commented turning back to her.
She nodded sitting up. "You're telling me!" She paused. "I'll almost feel sorry to go back to Britain, things are so different there."
"Almost?" he questioned with interest.
"Well, yes. The weather and people here are so nice. Saying that, though, all my family are there."
"Of course!"
As though on cue, green flames erupted in the fireplace and the head of one of the receptionists appeared there. "Miss Weasley?" he called looking round.
Ginny leapt off the couch and knelt down before the hearth.
"Sorry to disturb you but you have a floo call from England. Shall I put it through?" the man asked politely.
"Err, yes, I suppose." Ginny shot a look over her shoulder at Blaise nodding at the door. It was more than obvious she wanted him to go but he pretended not to see the gesture. Who would be calling her so late?
He had wondered a lot about her family. Being magical they would accept, although grudgingly, that Ginny was his, they would nevertheless be an unwanted hindrance unless he took measures to stop this. If it was one of them calling this would be the perfect time to introduce himself. If not, he felt he had the right to know who it was, just in case!
He smiled back blandly as the receptionist's head was replaced with a balding, red-haired man wearing glasses who could only be Ginny's father.
"Ginny, there you are," the man beamed. "We've only just got back from Bill's house so I thought I'd call. How are you?"
"I'm fine thanks," she replied shooting Blaise another pointed look which he again ignored. "How are you and Mum?"
"We're fine, and before I forget, the boys all send their love."
"That's nice of them," Ginny replied dryly.
"Now, now Ginny, less of that. Your mother would have liked to talk but she was exhausted and went to bed. She passes on her love."
"Thanks."
"So tell me, what have you been doing on Ethosa? It's a lovely island and the weather must be ideal at this time of year." The older man smiled, a note of wistfulness lacing his voice.
"Oh it is," she agreed enthusiastically. "I'll almost be sorry to come home again."
"Ah well, we won't. Its odd here without you! We worry."
"Dad, please! I'm not a child any longer."
Behind her, Blaise shifted his position; it was time to make himself known. He moved to kneel behind Ginny, just out of her father's line of vision.
"Careful," he murmured, hands resting lightly on her shoulders. "You don't want to overdo things just yet."
She turned and glared at him. "I thought I told you to go," she hissed angrily, colour staining her cheeks.
"Ginny, who are you talking to?" Mr Weasley demanded, craning his neck in an attempt to peer round her.
"It's no one Dad," Ginny said hastily, turning back to him and trying to block Blaise from view.
Blaise however had no intention of being casually dismissed, and moved to her side, wearing a bland expression. The other mans eyes widened as they took him in, and then flickered to his daughter, while his brain was no doubt working overtime to put 2 and 2 together and make 5, much to Blaise's satisfaction.
"He's just going," Ginny gritted out through tight lips, shooting Blaise a cold look which he affected not to notice.
"Please excuse my interrupting your conversation," Blaise addressed the older man, "But as I was here when the call came in, it seemed rude to just disappear without saying hello first."
Mr Weasley eyed him with interest. "I suppose so; you're a colleague of Ginny's?"
"Well, no. We knew each other at Hogwarts and bumped into each other here. I brought Ginny up to her suite after a tumble off her broom while playing Quidditch," Blaise said casually.
"What's that?" the older man spluttered, while Ginny cringed. If looks could kill, Blaise would be a dead man now. "Ginny, fall?"
"It was nothing Dad, just this lot worrying-".
"You fell, how?" her father interrupted concerned.
"No harm was done, Mr Weasley, we made sure of that. It was just the cross-currents here that knocked her broom off course, that's all," Blaise reassured smoothly.
Relief swept the other man's face as he eyed his daughter closely. "I've heard the cross currents in the Caribbean take some getting used to. What possessed you to get on a broom without practice first? You could have been seriously hurt!" he chided his daughter.
"They were a seeker short on one of the teams so I filled in! Anyway, nothing happened so why the fuss?" Irritation laced Ginny's voice and from the look on her father's face, Blaise guessed that this wasn't the first time the two were arguing.
"Ginny was up here resting when you called," Blaise consoled.
"You'll be the death of me," Mr Weasley sighed smiling affectionately at his daughter. It didn't take a genius to work out that she was his favourite. "What will your mother say when she finds out?"
"Why should she find out?" Ginny countered swiftly. "If he," she shot Blaise a narrow eyed look, "hadn't been here, you wouldn't have found out either."
Blaise's eyes widened. The girl was definitely devious.
Mr Weasley was silent for a moment then nodded. "All right, I won't say anything, but any more such escapades and I will tell her! Please be careful Ginny. Ethosa, although hot and so on, is not Britain and you're not used to the climate there." He then turned to Blaise. "I'm sorry young man, but I didn't catch your name."
"It's Blaise Zabini," Blaise replied. "I take it you're Ginny's father?"
"Yes, Arthur Weasley. It's nice to meet you."
Ginny sighed loudly, clearly annoyed at the turn of events.
"Likewise, Ginny talks a lot of you all," Blaise smiled back, pleased.
"Have you two known each other long then? I don't recall Ginny mentioning you at Hogwarts," Mr Weasley said thoughtfully.
"Well, we knew of each other, being in different years," Blaise replied easily. "Imagine my surprise when we met here!"
"Yes. Still It's nice for you to know one person on the island at least, Ginny," the older man smiled in relief. "By the way, do you get the Prophet much on Ethosa?"
"No, thank Merlin!" Ginny answered grimacing. "Who wants to read that rag anyway?"
Blaise's interest however was caught and he made a mental note to check that evenings Prophet as soon as he could. Mr Weasley had asked that question for a reason, it was probably the main reason for his calling so late.
"Yes, well, I just wondered."
"Why? Is there something in there I should know about?" Ginny asked suspiciously.
"No, no, not at all, I just thought –"
"Dad, what's happened?" she asked cutting across him. "You'd never ask something like that unless you had a damned good reason for it."
"I told you, it was just curiosity."
She snorted in disbelief while Blaise held his breath.
"Out with it, what's happened?" she persisted glaring into her father's face. He didn't meet the look but sighed deeply.
"Well, it's probably nothing but…"
"But?"
"As I say, it's probably just the Prophet making things up again, but there's a picture of Brian on the front page."
There was a deafening silence as Ginny digested his words. Blaise could feel the tension radiating off her and hardly dared breathe. He was sure that, like him, she was putting two and two together and making four.
Finally she asked in such a quiet voice that he almost missed the words, "Who was she?"
Mr Weasley shook his head looking both unhappy and angry. "Elizabeth Greengrass. At least that's what the Prophet said."
From what Blaise could remember, Elizabeth Greengrass had a reputation of stealing other women's boyfriends. No doubt she had ensnared Brian Forcett just for the hell of it, probably with a little help from his holdings manager.
"And what were they doing?" Ginny asked her expression hardening. She too seemed to know of Elizabeth's reputation.
"Well," Mr Weasley hedged, clearly uncomfortable, "the photo may not be accurate-"
"Get to the point Dad, what were they doing?"
"They were in a passionate embrace, just outside Ollivanders," he muttered.
Ginny absorbed this news with apparent composure. Blaise couldn't tell what she was thinking as she gazed unseeing at the wall opposite her.
"Ginny?" her father said tentatively, looking anxious.
She seemed to come out of herself and focused on her father's face. "It's ok Dad, don't worry about it."
"But he was with someone else," the older man protested clearly hurt by what he had seen. "We had hoped the snapping of the ring was temporary and…" he tailed off shaking his head.
She nodded, and shot Blaise a sideways look before saying, "That's up to him. As far as I'm concerned, he can do what he likes. We're no longer together, not after this."
Blaise knew that she must be very angry to admit something like this in front of him, especially after her declarations of the night before.
"I'm sorry," her father sighed. "Brian seemed to be such a nice young man; we had such high hopes for you both."
"That's life, Dad," Ginny grimaced. "Unexpected."
"Well, you just enjoy yourself on Ethosa, You've every right to."
She grinned suddenly taking Blaise by surprise. "Oh I will, don't worry about that. Dad, I'd better go, it's getting very late and I have to be up early tomorrow."
"Of course, take care of yourself. I'll bid you both good night, and Ginny, don't do anything dangerous will you!"
"Don't worry Mr Weasley, I'll keep an eye on her," Blaise assured the other man.
"I'm perfectly capable of looking after myself thanks," Ginny snapped glaring at both men. Hurriedly her father said his goodbyes and a moment later the grate was empty.
Scowling Ginny got up to face Blaise. "You know, it's polite to leave the room when people get floo calls," she snapped. Whatever her feelings about the revelations of a few moments ago, she wasn't showing them.
"Is it? I'd say it was just as rude not to make your presence known if you were in the room, wouldn't you?" he countered calmly, enjoying her anger. She really was a little spitfire; he hoped she was this energetic in bed.
"You really are the limit, you know that? Merlin knows what Mum and Dad will be making of the fact that you were with me just now," she flared.
"What's so wrong with that? We both know that my reasons for being here are entirely innocent, surely that's all that matters."
"No, it isn't. After everything that's happened, I don't need them speculating about you as well."
"You're over reacting," he placated, "they won't think anything of it and anyway, so what if they do?"
"They'll presume that you… we..." She tailed off.
"Been seeing each other? So what?"
"I don't want them to think that because it isn't true!" she spat.
Seeing she was going to argue further, he forestalled her by raising a hand. "I want to talk to you, and nothing will be achieved by this pointless conversation."
Not waiting for an invite, he crossed to the bar and poured himself a dry sherry, while raising a brow in enquiry.
She shook her head, throwing herself in a winged chair while he took the seat on the sofa opposite her.
He would have liked to discuss her father's revelation but decided against it for the time being, and reverted to his original plan. "I trust you got my letter this morning?" he asked in a quiet voice. It was time to undo the damage of the day before.
She blinked, taken aback. "What? Oh yes, I did."
"And?"
"And what?" she gave him a puzzled look as she spoke and he bit back a sigh of irritation.
"Do you accept my apology?" As he had suspected, this was proving harder than he had envisaged.
Ginny was silent for a long moment, then shrugged. "It doesn't matter one way or the other, does it?"
"Of course it does. I inadvertently offended you and that matters a great deal."
"Why?" she persisted. "From what I remember, other people's feelings never played a part in your life. I can't understand the sudden change."
"Ginny that was a long time ago when we were young and innocent. Like most other teenagers, I was selfish, I admit it, but things have moved on since then."
"It's difficult to look past first impressions," she replied guardedly. "Thanks for the apology though, it was unexpected." She stood and yawned. "If you don't mind, I'm shattered and want an early night."
Blaise however was not content. "Ah, but do you accept my apology?" he pressed determined to get an answer from her.
Wearily, she nodded and a weight seemed to slide off him.
"Thanks, it means a lot. Maybe I can take you on a tour of the island, as compensation for my behaviour," he suggested hopefully.
"No thanks, that's ok," she smiled politely.
He took a deep breath, fighting back disappointment, and asked, "Why are you so determined to avoid me?"
She gave him a searching glance before replying. "Look, there's no point in denying that we're very different people who want different things from life. I just don't think we have anything in common."
"You mean, you've decided we don't have anything in common. Your problem is that you read too much into things; this isn't Britain you know! Here people like to help others without ulterior motives. In offering to show you round the island, I have no intention of murdering you on a deserted beach or whatever other ideas you may have."
She blushed and looked away. "Yes, but you have a reputation, I mean….well…."
"Ah, now we're getting to the crux of the matter," he smiled thinly. "Don't tell me you don't want to be seen with me due to my so called reputation with women?"
"What's wrong with that?" she flashed back heatedly.
"Only that at school you could hex better than most of the seventh years. I doubt you've changed. Anyway, your family would hang, draw and quarter me if I so much laid a finger on you without your say so, the floo call with your father was enough to tell me that." He grinned. "Only a fool would risk such treatment for a quick roll in the hay. No thanks, I value myself far too much for that!" To emphasise this, he strode over to the mirror on one wall and gazed at himself.
"I see you're as much of a poser as always," Ginny commented dryly watching him.
Blaise took his time rearranging the lapels of his top, hoping that her suspicions had been allayed. Finally he turned back to her. "So what do you say? We could go clubbing together, there are some wonderful places both here an on Barbados, which isn't too far."
He saw her eyes light up with interest although she tried hard not to show it. "Maybe."
"Excellent, it'll be nice to go out with a woman who isn't after my gorgeous person."
She gave a derisive snort. "Merlin, you really haven't changed have you? Just because some women seem to find you attractive, it doesn't mean that everyone does!"
"I'm wounded." He gave a theatrical sigh. "Most women would be honoured to go out with me."
She gave him a calculating look from beneath raised brows. "You have your uses I'll admit, but as for being honoured to be with you, I disagree."
Deciding not to push his luck any further that evening, he moved towards the door. "I'll let you know when I next go clubbing. It's up to you whether you want to accompany me. Sleep well." Not waiting for a response, he sauntered out, shutting the door behind him.
XoXoXoXo
"Blaise, look at this!" Adriana said, entering his sunlit study and handing him the evening Prophet from the day before.
"I've already seen it," he drawled glancing at the newspaper before turning his attention back to the papers strewn across his desk.
"And?" she asked with impatience, perching on the window seat. "What do you think of it?"
He shrugged. "They look very busy."
"Oh Blaise, do not be so flippant, I wonder if Ginevra has seen it?"
He picked up the paper and studied the entwined couple on the front page with dispassion. "Definitely. Her father flooed her last night to tell her but as I was there, they didn't discuss it much."
"I hope she is not upset by it."
"When have you cared about such things Mother?" Blaise couldn't help asking at this unusual display of concern for someone she barely knew.
"She will be your wife, naturally I care," Adriana responded dryly. "It will make things difficult for you if she carried a torch for him." She nodded at the paper, the front page of which showed Brian Forcett busily ravaging a tall blonde.
"I don't think she did. She didn't look to upset when her father told her, but then she doesn't give away much," he mused, leaning back in his swivel chair.
"She was very determined to get the engagement back on track the other night," Adriana put in, but Blaise shook his head.
"I suspect that was more for our benefit than because there was any truth in it."
"You cannot be sure of that," she protested. "The girl was very determined."
"Mother, I know how Ginny and her family operate, pride and not showing weakness means a lot to them. Trust me, she just didn't want us to know about the broken engagement. The ring would never have broken with such ease had she and Forcett been in love. All I did was touch it the once during the meal and that was it."
Adriana was silent for a moment, then nodded. "I suppose, but you never know."
"Mother I think I do. Even if she did want to renew things with him, which from what I saw last night is extremely unlikely, her family would never let her. They're very protective of her."
"You realise they could prove to be a real stumbling block?"
He laughed. "Mother, they're magical. They'll understand as well as the next person what it means to have Veela blood and about Ginny being my mate. They won't like it, but they won't stop it. After this," he nodded at the paper, "they may prove to be an asset."
"Possibly."
"What do you think of Ginny?" he asked with interest.
She paused. Then choosing her words with care said, "She is not what I expected."
"And what was that?"
"I do not know precisely, but not her. I had expected a spoilt, pampered girl whose main aim was to find a rich husband, most pureblood girls are like that, you cannot deny it. But Ginevra, she is different. Spoiled most certainly, but she has a mind of her own which is unusual in one of her breeding."
"I'd never stand for a stupid woman, you know that," Blaise protested, looking revolted. "Such females are two a knut."
"Well, they have their uses," she retorted stung. "For one thing, they make the chase easier."
"Hmm, from what I remember, you didn't make father's life very easy when he was pursuing you."
She smiled slightly. "I'm not an empty-headed female! Who can resist making the best looking man in the country chase after one? It is very good for the ego."
"Ginny can, I'm sure," came his dry response.
"No, you know she cannot, her need of you will not let her. The sooner she realises that, the better for all of us."
"She's as stubborn as they come and will take a lot of convincing." His doubts, usually pushed to the back of his mind, were coming to the fore.
"Not if you give and seal the first mark she cannot," his mother responded briskly.
He shrugged. "Let's hope it won't come to that, I'd much prefer to give her the mark without having to use force. For one thing, it will be a lot less painful for her."
A dreamy smile settled on Adriana's countenance. "Yes, I well remember it. There is a little pain but the pleasure is incredible."
"Hmm, I suspect time has dimmed your memory of the pain."
"Oh, it has not. The pain is bad but it lasts no more than a few seconds, but the pleasure…"
Trying not to think of his parents engaging in sexual activities, Blaise got up. "Yes well, we'll see."
"Oh, I almost forgot to ask, what happened to Ginevra in the match yesterday? She is such a good flyer, I cannot understand how she fell from her broom."
"The cross-currents of air of course. She's not used to them and was so busy enjoying capturing the snitch that a current caught her unawares."
"So it had nothing to do with you then?" She shot him a disbelieving look.
"No! I merely thought it may happen and was on hand when it did."
"Hmm, convenient. You're as scheming as your father was."
"Each for himself, as they say. If I don't do everything I can to ensure she's mine, no one else will."
"I will," she protested, eyes flashing.
"Apart from you, then."
"So what now?" she enquired in a bored voice which belied her interest.
"She owes me a wizarding debt for saving her," he smirked. "I can call on that any time I like if she doesn't cooperate."
"I hope for her sake that she does then. You are a formidable opponent when you want something," Adriana said as she left the room.
Blaise sat back, hands linked behind his head as he contemplated the events of the day before. Things were falling into place nicely, and soon Ginny would be his. He wondered what she was doing, but more importantly how she was feeling, especially after lasts night's article. Once he had given her the first mark, he would be able to tell, but for now, had to rely on guesswork and astute observation.
Brian Forcett, though, was permanently out of the picture and for that, Blaise was deeply thankful. It meant that he had a bit more time, although the longer he delayed claiming her, the more unstable he would become. Also, she was an extremely attractive young woman and it wouldn't be long until someone else tried to take her, something which he could not risk. He now had to work on the second part of his plan, to give her the first mark, thereby putting into place the first strand of the magical link between them. After that, things would go a lot more smoothly, for she would start wanting him in return. If he played his cards right, he would be able to speed up the process until she surrendered and he could make her his.