Читать книгу Bridesmaid with Attitude - Christy McKellen - Страница 9

THEO FELT THE tension he’d been holding on to begin to dissolve as she said the words he’d been hoping to hear.

Still, there was one thing that needed to be established before they embarked on this little adventure together.

‘Before we begin I want to make sure we’ve got this clear, Emily—I help you and you help me, then when it’s over we walk away.’

‘That works for me.’

‘Are you sure? Because I’m not looking for a relationship right now.’

She let out a long breath through her nose, an expression of irritation taking over her face. ‘Neither am I. Like I said, I don’t do hearts and flowers either. It’s not my style.’

The veracity of her statement came through loud and clear in the tone of her voice.

He nodded, feeling reassured that she meant what she said.

‘Just out of interest, why is it up to you to sort out your friend’s wedding venue? Shouldn’t it be her husband-to-be turning up here, bargaining with me?’

She leant one hip against the wall and gave him a look from under her lashes. ‘We thought you’d be more likely to want to sleep with me.’

He rolled his eyes at the trite joke.

‘Seriously, though,’ she said, grinning at his reaction, ‘Tristan’s away at the moment, and Lula has enough on her plate, so as chief bridesmaid I offered to come instead. Because she’s the person I love most in the world. She’s been my rock, and I want to do this for her because I know how devastated she’d be if her wedding plans went awry. She’s had a pretty tough life and she deserves to be happy.’

The determination in Emily’s face clinched it for him and the last bit of tension drained away.

‘Okay, then we’d better get on with it,’ he said, laying down the hacksaw he’d been clutching in his hand. ‘We only have a short time to get to know a bit about each other. My mother’s visiting friends today, but she’ll be staying here later and it’s probably better not to catch her on the hop. She doesn’t like to be put on the back foot. I’ll tell her about you first, and wait for her to insist on meeting you, then I’ll suggest I invite you over tomorrow for Sunday lunch. We’ll start small.’

‘So we’re not going to pretend I live with you here?’

‘No. That would seem suspicious. She’d expect to have heard about you already if you’d moved in with me.’

‘Still, you’d better show me around in case I need the loo or something when she’s here and have no idea where to find it. That might look a little suspicious too.’

‘Good idea.’

Walking over to a small sink in the corner of the workshop, he washed the grease off his hands before turning back and gesturing for her to step through the door. ‘After you.’

They strolled side by side from the workshop to the front entrance of the house, with Emily craning her neck to look up at the impressive E-shaped building, with its gold-coloured stone, mullion windows and carved geometric frontage.

She let out a low, complimentary whistle. ‘It’s quite a pad you’ve got here, Theo.’

He experienced a surge of pride as he took the opportunity to experience the place through her eyes. After living here for the last couple of years, ever since his mother had moved out to go and live in Spain with her new husband, it was easy to look past the magnificence of the place, but he knew how special it was. He felt a deep and meaningful connection to the place, right down to his bones.

While he rummaged in his pockets for the keys she bent down and pretended to pet the stone lions that guarded the door. ‘Hello again, my fine feline friends. Don’t worry—I come here with the full benediction of your owner this time,’ she purred at them.

He had a disquieting moment when he wondered whether he was crazy to put his faith in such an unknown quantity, and had to remind himself that he didn’t exactly have a better option.

Opening the door, he ushered her inside and introduced her to the grand hallway, with its stone-flagged floor, dark wood panelling and arched stone doorways leading off to the downstairs rooms.

‘This is where the tour begins.’

‘Should I take my shoes off?’ she asked, he suspected only half jokingly.

‘No need. Let me show you the rooms down here first.’

He led her through to the drawing-room, then the morning room, pointing out the odd period feature, then the library—his favourite place after the workshop, which smelled like history—then finally the comfortable converted kitchen-diner.

‘Very nice, Theo. I can see why Lula’s so keen to have her reception here. All this dastardly scheming is definitely going to be worth it,’ Emily said as she gazed around at the oak cupboards and bifolding doors leading out to a large tiled terrace which looked over the extensive gardens.

‘Speaking of which—we ought to get on with it,’ he said, aware that they had a lot to cover in a short amount of time.

She nodded. ‘Yeah, if we’re going to make this work we need to keep our stories simple.’

‘Agreed.’

He gestured for her to follow him back out into the hallway.

‘How about we met in London?’ she said, walking to the bottom of the staircase and propping her elbow on the highly polished oak banister. ‘Through a friend from university, perhaps?’

‘That would work. I used to have a job in the City, so she’d buy that.’

‘And we’ve been seeing each other on and off for a year?’

‘Yes. The on and off thing is good. It adds credence to me not mentioning you already. We could have been “off” when I’ve seen or spoken to her in the past.’

‘Okay. Good.’

He nodded towards the sweeping staircase. ‘Come on upstairs with me while I change, and then I’ll show you the bedrooms and bathrooms up there.’

‘Lead on,’ she said, and he felt her following close behind him as he mounted the stairs.

He stopped at the first door off the landing. ‘This is me. I’ll only be a minute.’

‘Okay,’ she said, surprising him by following him inside.

He turned and gave her a questioning frown.

‘I should probably know what your room looks like,’ she said with a pseudo-innocent smile. ‘Just in case.’

He raised his eyebrows but decided not to kick her out.

She had a point.

Emily stopped in the middle of the enormous woodpanelled bedroom and watched Theo disappear through a door on the far side, which she guessed must lead to his en-suite bathroom and dressing room.

‘Take a look around if you want. I removed all the dead bodies yesterday, so I don’t have anything to hide.’

His voice sounded muffled, as if he had his head in a wardrobe. Then she heard the sound of the shower being turned on.

She smiled and did as he suggested, walking around the room and peeking into a couple of his drawers, finding only some paperbacks and a handful of pens in them.

His bed was enormous and comfortable-looking, and made up with what looked like Egyptian cotton sheets and a large duck down duvet. She walked over and picked up one of his pillows, holding it to her nose and breathing in the manly scent of him. It had some kind of exotic undertone, like lemongrass or lime—something fresh and clean like that.

Something delicious.

Her whole body flooded with hot longing as she thought about getting close enough to him to smell it on his body.

The shower was turned off.

Tossing the pillow back onto the bed, she crept over to the door of the en-suite bathroom to see whether she could catch an illicit peek at him as he dried and changed, her nerves humming with anticipation.

‘Find anything of interest?’ he asked loudly, and she took a couple of quick steps away in case he came out and caught her spying on him.

‘Not a thing—you’ve been very thorough,’ she called from the safety of the middle of the room.

There was a pause, then a bang like a door closing, and then he spoke again. ‘You know, I think our biggest obstacle in making this thing work is that my mother’s a snob, and that means any girlfriend I have needs to come from a family good enough to meet with her approval.’

His voice was clearer now, as if he was standing right on the other side of the door.

She’d just opened her mouth to reply when he strode back in, wearing a pair of antique wash jeans and a slim-fitting black shirt, left open at the neck, exposing the deep hollow of his throat.

‘Er … we … er … don’t need to lie about that,’ she managed to utter through a mouth that appeared to have stopped working properly.

He’d been gorgeous in his work clothes but he was absolutely glorious in urban chic, with his damp hair all mussed and falling into his eyes.

He raised a questioning eyebrow and she realised she was staring at him with her mouth hanging open.

‘I mean, I actually do come from a good family and I was sent to all the “right” schools.’ She made the quotes sign in the air with her fingers. ‘Plus, my father’s the CEO of a very well respected accounting firm in the City.’

He nodded. ‘Good, that will make a difference.’

She looked down and kicked at a bit of fluff on the carpet with her toe. ‘Of course I haven’t spoken to him in ages—or my brother, for that matter. He’s been living in Australia for the last six years, so we’re not exactly on great terms. And I guess I need to tell you that my mother’s dead.’

She no longer felt the throb of brutal torment whenever she said those words. They just rolled off her tongue, unencumbered.

It worried her some days how numbed she felt to it now.

‘I’m sorry.’

She looked back up to meet his concerned gaze and gave a twitch of her nose and a shrug of her shoulder to intimate that she was unbothered by it. ‘Don’t be. I’m not some delicate little flower that needs protecting. I can look after myself. Been doing it for years.’

He held her gaze, his brow furrowed as if he was trying to work her out. She stared back at him, determined not to be the one to look away first.

Finally he gave her a sharp nod. ‘Do you want a drink?’ he asked abruptly.

Clearly she’d passed some kind of test. Either that or she’d freaked him out by getting a little too personal and he was backing the hell off. ‘I could murder a vodka and tonic,’ she joked, flashing him a cheeky grin.

He raised an eyebrow. ‘I was thinking coffee. Very strong coffee.’

‘Very strong coffee would work too,’ she said, giving another indifferent shrug.

He snorted gently. ‘Okay, I’ll show you the rest of upstairs, then we’ll go back to the kitchen.’ He walked out of the room, leaving her to follow behind.

She caught him up as he went into the next door along the corridor. ‘Guest room,’ he said, waving a hand around the room.

‘Nice,’ she said, nodding sagely. She wasn’t joking either—the whole place was beautifully done out.

‘So, what’s your big secret, then, Theo? Hmm …? Everyone has one? Let me guess.’ She folded her arms, tipped her head to one side and gave him a contemplative stare. ‘A brood of illegitimate children just poised to crawl out of the woodwork? Or perhaps a mad wife stashed away in the attic?’

‘Unlikely to the first guess and not yet to the second, but I’m sure it’s only a matter of time.’

‘Because you’re bound to drive any woman you get involved with round the bend?’

‘Something like that.’

His gaze raked her face for a moment before the corner of his mouth twitched upwards. It was the closest thing she’d seen to a smile since they’d met and a sense of satisfaction warmed her blood.

He must have been uncomfortable with the change in atmosphere, though, because he brought down the frown again, then abruptly turned and walked out of the room, leaving her to hurry after him.

Back out on the landing, he gestured down the corridor, pointing out the other guest bedrooms and bathrooms, then strode off back down the stairs—presumably to make the promised coffee.

She caught up with him as he reached the bottom step and followed him into the kitchen, where he proceeded to set up the coffee-maker.

Turning to look at her once it was gurgling away, he narrowed his eyes, as if deciding how to put his next statement. ‘Not meaning to be insensitive, but we’d better not go into detail about your lack of family harmony in case my mother thinks you’re after me for my money,’ he said finally.

She snorted and crossed her arms. ‘I don’t need your money. Not with the job I have.’

‘What job is that?’ he asked, leaning back against the counter.

‘You really don’t recognise me? Emily Applegate from Treasure Trail? It’s one of the most popular shows on TV at the minute.’

At least it was on the second-rate channel it ran on—but, to be fair, it was soon to be promoted to the big league. There was no need to mention the small hiccup of the threat of being dropped from the show to him, though. It would only complicate matters, and they’d agreed to keep their stories simple.

He scowled. ‘Never heard of it. I don’t watch television.’

‘You don’t watch television?’ She took an exaggerated step back and threw out her hands in mock shock.

He grunted in response and turned away to pour them both a mug of coffee. ‘I have better things to do with my time,’ he said over his shoulder.

‘Like tinkering with your tools?’

He turned back and handed her a mug, which she took gratefully, inhaling the wonderful aroma deep into her lungs.

‘Like making equipment for people with mobility issues to help give them some freedom,’ he said.

That brought her up short. ‘Impressive.’

He shrugged the compliment off as if it meant nothing and gestured for them both to sit down at the large oak table in the middle of the room.

‘So what led you to the business of making mobility aids?’ she asked, once they were settled.

‘I had an older brother who had severe mobility issues. I used to invent things to help him get around and carry out what we think of as easy day-to-day tasks so he didn’t feel so trapped and frustrated. I found I was good at it, and I enjoyed it, so I went on to study engineering at university.’

‘And your mother was okay with that?’ she asked, blowing across the top of her drink to cool it down before taking a sip.

‘Not really. She wanted me to go into politics. But I studied at Cambridge, and appeared to be rubbing shoulders with the right people, so she let it slide.’

‘Where’s your brother now?’

‘He died when I was twenty. He had a lot of health issues so it was always on the cards.’

‘Sorry to hear that.’

He shrugged and looked down at his coffee. ‘Life can be cruel.’

‘But you’re actively doing something to make a difference to people who’ve caught a bad break—that’s admirable.’

He took a long sip of his drink, his brow furrowed as if he was thinking about what she’d said. ‘I’d like to do more but it’s a long game, building up a business in this tough financial environment. I do a lot of work pro bono, because the people who need help the most are usually the ones that can’t afford it. They often need things custom-made to suit the ergonomics of their house. Everyone’s needs are different. Occupational therapists do a wonderful job, but there’s only so much they can achieve with their limited funding.’

‘Is that why you’ve been hiring this place out for weddings?’

‘Yeah—in an attempt to keep up with the running costs of this place, and my living expenses, until the business starts making money. And also because I like to see the place full of life. It seems perverse for me to be rattling around in it on my own all the time.’

‘If you’re so worried about it being too big and expensive for you why don’t you move out to somewhere smaller?’ she asked, taking another gulp of coffee, enjoying the smoky taste of it on her tongue.

He looked at her as though she was mad. ‘Because this is my ancestral home. It’s been in the Berkeley family for four hundred years. My mother’s not interested in living here any more, and if I wasn’t here she’d probably sell it to the highest bidder. I’m not about to let some money-focused developer get their grubby hands on it and turn it into apartments or a golfing hotel.’ He pulled his face into a grimace.

‘Not a big fan of golfing?’

‘No.’

‘Balls too small?’ She couldn’t stop a wide grin from spreading across her face.

He gave her a warning frown. ‘You’re going to have to watch your mouth around my mother—she’s pretty uptight.’

‘Don’t sweat it. I will,’ she said, draining the last drop of her drink and managing to spill a bit on her top.

‘And you’re going to have to scrub up your appearance in order to impress her,’ he said, indicating her torn jeans, biker boots and the wide-necked T-shirt hanging off one shoulder, flashing her bra strap.

Emily waved a breezy hand in the air. ‘Not a problem. Don’t worry, I’ll have her wrapped around my little finger in half a day, max.’

‘You’re very sure of yourself.’

‘Why, yes I am.’

An expression of approval flashed across his face. ‘I like it.’

She leant forward, narrowing her eyes and forcing her lips into a soft pout. ‘I know you do.’

His approval was quickly replaced with a frown. ‘I’m not going to sleep with you, Emily.’

She let her mouth fall open in exaggerated shock, hoping like mad that he hadn’t caught on to the mortified disappointment that had flashed through her at his abrupt rejection.

‘Why ever not? Surely that’s one of the perks of our arrangement?’

He leant back in his chair and crossed his arms. ‘I don’t make it a habit to sleep with women I’ve just met.’

She gave him a scrutinising look, brazening it out despite the unfamiliar turmoil she was struggling to deal with. Surely she hadn’t lost her touch when it came to charming men? It had never deserted her before. Sex was the one area of her life where she felt she had absolute control, and she wasn’t about to let him chip into it.

‘You mean with women you don’t trust?’

His expression didn’t flicker, but she could tell he was holding something in. It was there in the rigidity of his jaw.

‘What happened to you?’ she asked.

‘Nothing I want to talk to you about.’ He got up and dumped his coffee mug in the sink.

She stood up too and followed him over to the sink, putting her mug next to his and standing a little closer than was absolutely necessary, just to see if she could get another rise out of him. She was having some trouble holding her nerve in the face of his steely resistance, but there was no way she was backing down from it.

Looking up into his face, she gave him a wry smile. ‘Women, huh? We’re nothing but a bunch of harpies and hangers-on.’

The corner of his mouth twitched—she was sure of it.

Score.

‘What are you afraid of?’ she asked, putting her hand on his arm and feeling his tricep tense.

‘I’m not afraid of anything. I just prefer to get to know someone before I have sex with them. It’s a matter of principle.’

She gave a mock teasing pout. ‘Damn your principles.’

He fixed her with a long, hard stare that made her quiver inside.

‘I’m sure you’ll be able to control yourself. And, while we’re discussing it, I want you to agree not to get involved with anyone else while we’re doing this thing.’

‘What?’

‘If you’re on TV there’s a chance the papers might report on any hook-ups you have. I don’t want my mother to hear about them. It would ruin what we’re trying to do here.’

‘So I have to promise to be celibate till this thing is over?’

‘Yes.’

‘And you seriously won’t help me out?’

The impulse to push him into submission was too strong to ignore. She needed to win this now, for the sake of her pride. She ran her fingers gently up and down his arm, feeling him tense even more under her touch.

‘You’re going to leave me in a state of sexual frustration? So cruel!’

He grabbed her arm, wrapping his fingers around her wrist and pushing it against her own body, imposing a barrier between them. ‘I’m sure you can find some other way to satisfy your carnal urges. There are tools for every job. Be creative.’

‘It’s not the same.’

‘You’ll survive.’

She huffed out a sigh, hoping he couldn’t feel the tremble in her hand. ‘Okay, but you have to promise to be celibate too … until this thing is over.’

‘That won’t be a problem.’

She shook her head in disbelief. ‘Are you made of stone or something?’

‘It has been suggested,’ he said, releasing her arm and walking back to the table to push the chairs back under it.

‘Look, if you’re worried this is actually some elaborate plot to trap you into marriage and steal all your money, then don’t be. I have plenty of my own money. I don’t need to steal someone else’s.’

‘It never crossed my mind,’ he said, his back to her.

She couldn’t tell if he was being serious. His tone was so dry it almost cracked the air.

He turned back, his expression closed. ‘We’ve probably got enough information to go on for now,’ he said, ‘and I have things I need to deal with before my mother comes back.’ He pointed a finger at her in a commanding manner, as if she was a naughty puppy. ‘Wait here.’

She watched him stride out of the room, wondering what he was going to fetch. A horse whip, perhaps? Or a pair of shackles? The mere thought of it only intensified the low hum of erotic tension that had plagued her all afternoon.

How could he be immune to the heat between them?

Perhaps she’d pushed him too hard, too fast? Normally it wouldn’t bother her if she made a man uncomfortable with her brazenness, but she didn’t want to jeopardise this thing with Theo.

Truth be told, she was flabbergasted by his assertion that he wouldn’t sleep with her. No one had ever turned her down before, and the challenge of getting him to change his mind had now embedded itself firmly in her mind.

She really wasn’t looking for anything serious, so why the heck shouldn’t they have some fun together? There was clearly a spark of attraction between them, even if he was refusing to acknowledge it.

It wasn’t as if she was under any illusions about where she fitted in the grand theatre of life. She saw herself as the ruthless ex-lover that sweet, wholesome women saved their damaged alpha conquests from. In fact it amused her to think of herself as the facilitator of other people’s Happy-Ever-Afters.

According to the gutter press she had loose morals, but she didn’t cheat or mess around with men already in relationships—that was where she drew the line. She didn’t need undying love from a man; she needed hot sex, excitement and new experiences. The men she dated usually served that requirement, but unfortunately they tended to be self-absorbed and rather vacuous.

Theo was a whole other proposition. Smart, philanthropic and attractive. It was a heady mixture. One she was keen to have a lick of.

He returned a moment later, pen and paper in hand.

‘Write your phone number down on here and I’ll call you later to confirm the details about tomorrow,’ he said, dropping them onto the table.

She dipped into a low curtsey. ‘Yes, M’Lord.’

He flashed her a disparaging look, clearly not in the mood for any more teasing. ‘Let yourself out.’

Swivelling on the spot, he marched away, his feet making a heavy slapping sound on the flagstone floor.

‘You’ve been a great audience,’ she called after him, making sure sarcasm dripped from every syllable.

When she got home to London, the first thing Emily did was call Lula to tell her that she’d ninety-nine per cent sorted out the wedding reception venue problem.

‘Just give me a couple more days and I’ll have it all wrapped up and reconfirmed. Don’t worry, it’ll happen—I’ll make sure of it.’

‘How the heck did you swing it, Em?’ Lula asked, her husky DJ’s voice light with relief.

‘I used my feminine wiles,’ she replied, experiencing a surge of relief to hear her friend sounding so happy again.

‘Please tell me you didn’t sleep with him.’ Lula’s tone was jokey, but there was just a hint of expectancy in it.

‘Of course not. I just made a very good case. He is rather gorgeous, though. In fact he’s asked me out on a date. I’m going over for Sunday lunch tomorrow.’

‘Jeeze, Em, you’re a fast worker.’

‘What can I say? Zee guys, zay luurve me!’

‘So they should. You are a total goddess.’

‘Why, thank you, my darling. Anyway, I’d better scoot—got to get my beauty sleep if I’m going to impress His Lordship tomorrow.’

‘Okay—night, babe.’

‘Nighty-night.’

Emily had just ended the call when another number flashed up on the screen.

‘Hello?’

‘Emily, it’s Theo.’

Her chest did a strange squeezy thing at the sound of his voice. ‘Hi. So we’re on?’

‘I told my mother about you. I said I’d been keeping you quiet because I wanted to be sure about committing to you before introducing you to her.’

‘And?’

‘As predicted, she wants to meet you. I think she’s a little suspicious about how I’ve suddenly produced you out of thin air and wants to make sure she’s not being taken for a ride.’

‘Smart woman.’

‘That she is.’

‘So should I come for lunch?’

‘Yes. Get here for midday tomorrow and be ready to turn on the charm.’

She pinched her nose to make her voice sound nasal. ‘Wilco, My Lord. Coming through, loud and clear.’

‘Emily?’

‘Yes, my darling?’

‘You’re starting to worry me.’

She laughed. ‘Chill out, Your Earlness, it’s going to be fine.’