Читать книгу A Convenient Groom - Darcy Maguire - Страница 9

‘SORRY I’m late.’ Riana rushed into the fashion end of the bridal boutique that her family owned and ran. Nothing had gone right this morning. The power had gone out some time in the night so her alarm hadn’t gone off, the hot water service had broken and she’d missed her train.

‘Late?’ Joe glared at her from a director’s chair set up in the middle of the room, as though he was lord and master. ‘You call this late? I call this a total disaster.’

‘What?’ Riana glanced around her. The room was filled with people, lights and camera equipment. A few of the men that milled around looked a lot like the guys who had accosted her with the bad pick-up lines that night at the club.

She crossed her arms over her chest. The room was usually where the friends and family of the bridal party could audience a private showing, with the bride-to-be having her very own fashion parade. She’d decorated the place so it felt intimate and cosy. Today, it was wild.

‘I said I was going to be here at eight a.m. sharp.’ Joe narrowed his eyes, scrutinising her as though she had where she’d been written all over her. ‘After all the trouble you went to to get me here I expected you to at least show some interest and have everyone ready to go.’

‘Of course.’ She sidled towards the heavy red curtains at the back of the room. ‘And they will be.’

Joe’s features darkened. ‘It’s after nine.’

She straightened tall. No way was she going to make excuses. She was his boss today and nothing he said could change that.

Sure, he’d caught her off-guard that time at the club, but not today. She’d keep distant, professional and absolutely cool when it came to Joe Henderson and his golden-flecked eyes and nicely built body.

She pulled her shoulders back. The lights were on, and there was no alcohol involved…There was no reason for her body to react to the guy at all.

Joe slipped off his seat and reduced the distance between them as though he were a charging bull. ‘I need to talk to you.’

He stopped an arm’s length away.

Her breath caught in her throat. ‘Why?’ She wet her lips and swallowed hard, trying to dispel the strange sensation in her belly.

He was cuter in the light than he’d been in the dimly lit club. Sure, his jaw was as shadowed as though he’d forsaken shaving in favour of the rugged look. And his blue jeans did hug his hips and long legs, driving home to every traitorous nerve in her body the perfection of his. And his chest—spread wide before her beneath a too-tight black T-shirt—screamed bad boy.

‘How’s it going?’ Riana said calmly, meeting his brilliant eyes. ‘I don’t mean with the shoot—obviously, because you’ve just told me and I’m late. And not personally, because frankly I don’t care what you’re feeling personally.’ She bit her tongue. She was babbling!

‘Thanks.’ Joe pursed his lips as though reconsidering something. ‘I just wanted to say how sorry I am about that other night,’ he stated dryly. ‘It’s been on my mind. I need to say that in no way did I want to hurt you by misleading you into thinking that I wanted a date with you.’

‘Yes, you did.’ She glared up at him. ‘Evening the score I think you called it.’

Joe shrugged. ‘You were hard on some of the lads.’

She stared up into his golden eyes, determined to get over whatever it was that being near him was doing to her body. ‘It was no picnic for me.’

‘I’m sorry.’

Riana stiffened. He sounded pretty sincere.

‘Don’t think for a moment that I wanted to go out with you.’ She forced a laugh. ‘I already have a wonderful man in my life.’

He crossed his arms over his wide chest. ‘Really?’

She nodded. ‘Absolutely.’

‘Serious?’

What did he think? That she was devastated because he hadn’t taken her number and needed his pity because she was oh-so-desperate? ‘I have a date with him tonight actually.’ She lifted her chin. ‘It’s at the romantic D’Amore and everyone knows that’s where certain special announcements are made.’

He frowned. ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’

Typical. Only an absolute romantic-heathen wouldn’t be aware that everyone who was anyone in Sydney got proposed to at the cosy little French restaurant. ‘Stuart is going to propose to me tonight.’

‘Oh.’ He stiffened, his mouth thinning. ‘And are you thinking of accepting?’

She smiled. ‘Hell, yes. My two older sisters are happily married, you know.’

He tilted his head sideways, frowning. ‘And that means…?’

Riana stared at the man. For someone purported to be savvy in business and getting quite a name in the industry for his expertise with the camera, he was absolutely hopeless. ‘That it’s my turn,’ she said with emphasis.

‘O-kay.’ He rubbed his bristled jaw. ‘I thought marriage was about love.’

Riana pressed her lips together tightly, holding the flood of retorts on the tip of her tongue. She let out her breath, crossing her arms over her chest. ‘What’s that supposed to mean? Just because you haven’t got someone special in your life who loves you doesn’t mean you can go and—’

He shrugged and turned away from her. ‘Maybe you could get back there organised so I can stop sitting around and I can start doing my job.’ And he strode away from her.

Riana gritted her teeth. As if she cared that she’d blurted out her most personal thoughts to a complete stranger and he’d walked away on her. Fine. Absolutely fine. He was the one who had stopped to chat in the first place…It wasn’t as if it mattered who knew that Stuart was going to propose to her tonight. Tomorrow it would be in all the papers.

Riana slipped out the back, her chest tight. Maggie had assured her she wasn’t needed at the six a.m. start the models would make to get organised with their make-up and hair, and she’d set out all the gowns days ago.

What had gone wrong?

The back room was in bedlam. Tall, lanky models stalked around, robes on, make-up and hair done to perfection.

Riana couldn’t see there’d be a problem. The place was intact. The models all present and apparently accounted for. The gowns all hanging where she’d left them. ‘Maggie?’

Maggie stuck her head out from one of the sewing rooms they were using as a changing-room. ‘Thank goodness you’re here. No one can agree who gets to wear what.’

‘That’s it? That’s what all the fuss is about? For this I’m being harassed by Joe Henderson and his inflated self-importance?’

Maggie shrugged sheepishly. ‘He’s the best in the business.’

‘Which is why I’m going to put a great big smile on my face and not wrap my hands around his neck.’ Riana grabbed the first lanky model and a gown off the rack. ‘This, for you. Quickly.’

The woman dropped her robe and stepped into the gown. Riana adjusted the fit of the bodice, turned her around and laced up the back of the gown.

‘Maggie, hand me the tiara with the medium veil.’

Riana took the tiara from Maggie and stood on tiptoe. She secured the tiara and veil to the woman’s hair and gave her a gentle shove in the back. ‘Right. Go.’

‘He’s a genius, that Joe, you know,’ Maggie said, snaring another model by the arm and shoving her towards Riana. ‘Have you seen his work?’

‘Yes.’ Riana took another gown off the rack. ‘But the man’s a monster. An arrogant self-absorbed, self-inflated—’

The model dropped her robe. ‘Joe does demand a lot from everyone around him,’ she said softly. ‘But he’s great, once you’ve got to know him.’

‘That’s good to know.’ Riana zipped up the back of the dress and added a long veil, rolling her eyes at Maggie. The man probably knew every model on the continent, intimately.

‘No truly, he helped out one of the young models who had got into drugs,’ she said reverently. ‘He’s so nice. Always there for us all, you know.’

Riana stared at the tall, lithe blonde. She didn’t want to hear how nice the guy was. She didn’t care. She had Stuart, and Stuart was head over heels about her.

‘He cares, that’s all I’m saying, I guess.’ The woman rotated slowly as Riana adjusted the fall of the skirts. ‘Joe got her into rehab. And back with her family. They’d had a falling out over her modelling instead of going to university.’

‘Thanks for sharing.’ Riana managed a smile and pushed the model towards the front curtain. She didn’t want to think about the guy a second more than necessary, especially how exactly all the models knew him so well. ‘Next.’

‘He is sort of cute in a rugged sort of way.’ Maggie handed her a long, flowing veil.

She cringed. ‘I’ve got Stuart.’ And the last thing she needed was a crush on Joe, no matter what he made her body feel.

Maggie took a gown from the rack. ‘Have you seen Stuart?’

Riana helped the next model into the gown, biting her lip. ‘No, but he’s so busy at work at the moment.’

Maggie zipped the gown up and fluffed up the flowing satin. ‘Bummer.’

‘Yes, I know. Just when I’m thinking that it’s time we get more serious and spend more time together…But his work is very important.’ Riana fixed the veil in place.

Maggie put her hands on her hips. ‘He’s an economist.’

Riana shrugged. ‘Yes. Well, he takes the economy very seriously.’

‘U-huh.’

Riana turned her attention to adjusting the fit of the strapless bodice of the satin gown. She knew Maggie’s view of Stuart intimately. So, she didn’t like him that much. It didn’t matter. She wasn’t going to be the one marrying him. Riana was. Mrs Riana Brooks had such a nice ring to it.

And she was sick of being alone, sick of the dating games, the bad kissers, the sleazy hands, the selfish needs of men out there, and of frozen dinners for one.

She was getting married. This year. She was sure of it. And Stuart Brooks was the man.

The D’Amore was all they said it was. From the time her oldest sister had announced her engagement, Riana had dreamt of this night.

Everyone knew the French restaurant was a place to take a girl to let her know how serious the relationship was. Her older sister, Tara, used it all the time for her proposal clients.

Riana shivered with anticipation and unabashed excitement. Stuart was seriously into her.

Would he push for a spring wedding? Would they honeymoon in Europe? Move in together in his apartment in the city or buy a house in the northern suburbs?

It was about time a guy fell totally in love with her. Wanted her to marry him. Live happily ever after.

Classical music drifted through the room. She couldn’t help but smile as she sauntered into the bar, walking slowly, conscious of the impression Stuart would have of her when he saw her.

The kick-ass red dress she’d made for herself after her older sister’s wedding clung to her curves, accentuating her shape, leaving no doubt that she was serious in her hunt for the perfect partner. The thin straps and plunging neckline gave the message of her simple elegance, and the thin necklace with a small golden heart spoke a thousand words as to what she wanted from him.

Stuart was at the bar, his hand gripped tightly around a double Scotch…or was it a triple?

‘Honey?’ She placed her hand on his shoulder and leaned over and kissed him. His breath was heavy with alcohol. How many drinks had he had?

‘Riana, darling.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘You’re late.’

‘I’m always late.’ She smiled.

He waved a finger at her, frowning. ‘You know that I don’t like it when I’m kept waiting.’ He took her arm, his sober expression giving nothing away. ‘Shall we eat then?’

She nodded. He didn’t appear to be in the best of moods, but that could just be an act so she’d be more surprised when he popped the question. ‘I hear the food here is wonderful,’ she offered hopefully.

Stuart grunted and steered her to the entrance to the dining room.

The maître d’ seated them near the back of the crowded restaurant. The table was small, draped with a pearl-white lace tablecloth with shining cutlery laid out, and a vase of roses nestled in the middle.

Stuart dropped into his seat, running his eyes over her body as she sank into her own seat. ‘I have something important to ask you.’

Riana’s breath caught in her throat. Already? She nodded, her heart pounding in her chest.

She could see it now. A beautiful apartment on the north side with views to the harbour, a man by her side sharing her life, a fluffy little dog and maybe, and in time, a child or three.

‘Yes?’ she whispered, leaning forward. Was he going to go down on one knee like in the movies? Was he packing a ring in his pocket? Did he have champagne organised as soon as she’d said yes?

He leant his elbows on to the table. ‘I want you to go away with me.’

Riana looked into his face. ‘Away?’ Maybe he was taking the long way round to his proposal of undying love and intense need for her to be his for ever. Was it the honeymoon he was referring to?

‘To Switzerland.’ He lifted his hand for the waiter. ‘My family has a chalet there and it’s my turn to take advantage of it.’

Riana took a sip of water. ‘How romantic,’ she said with extreme calm, holding in her eagerness for the real question.

Did she have to wait long?

Switzerland had those beautiful mountains, with the snow-covered peaks, with the blue-blue skies overhead and a sprawling chalet just for the two of them…It would be a beautifully romantic place to have Stuart propose to her.

Stuart pulled out his cigarettes and tapped the box on the table as though he was itching to light up. ‘Of course, we won’t be alone exactly.’

Riana’s body became heavy. ‘Exactly?’ she asked, raising an eyebrow at the man opposite her.

He waved a hand in the air dismissively. ‘Well, there are a few friends I’ve asked to come to the chalet as well.’

Her body chilled. ‘You’ve already asked them?’

Stuart waved a hand dismissively. ‘Of course. I could hardly keep it to myself.’

But she was only just finding out? She swallowed hard. ‘Sounds crowded.’

He shook his head and grinned at her. ‘Not at all. We’ll have a great time with my mates. And when I get tired of them—’

Riana stared at him, her mouth dry.

‘You’ll be there.’ He took a gulp of the drink the waiter had put down in front of him. ‘But I couldn’t imagine being there without you. You’re such fun to be with.’

‘Fun?’ she said dully. Was that all she was to him or was he just teasing her?

‘Of course. You’re a real blast to be with, Riana. Never a dull moment.’ He leant closer, taking her hands in his. ‘You’re my little party animal…What’s the matter?’

Riana looked at Stuart, her mind struggling to make sense of his words, while she tried not to. ‘I thought…I thought we were moving to the next level…you know?’

She lifted her chin and glared at the man opposite her. This couldn’t be happening to her.

Maybe it wasn’t. Maybe she’d misheard, been mistaken. Stuart Brooks wasn’t the sort of man who would toy with a woman. He had breeding, class and manners.

She shifted in her seat, determined. She wasn’t going to go anywhere, least of all Switzerland, until she knew exactly where he figured this relationship was heading.

He furrowed his brow. ‘Next level?’

‘Yes,’ she said softly, trying to smile at his act of naïvety. ‘I thought you were going to propose to me tonight.’

Stuart closed his mouth tightly, making rumbling noises as though he was going to explode. ‘Come on, you’re kidding, right?’ He laughed loudly.

‘I thought you loved me?’

Stuart took a gulp of his drink. ‘Do you love me?’

Riana placed her hand over her heart. ‘I thought we had a future together.’

‘Riana. Of course we do. A future of fun, sport, holidays…’

She opened her mouth, but the words wouldn’t come.

Stuart sculled the contents of his glass. ‘You’re not exactly marriage material, are you?’

‘Not marriage material!’ She held her hands tightly on her lap, willing her legs to work, to get up, to get away, but she could barely breathe, let alone walk.

She was numb.

He wasn’t serious about her. Not serious at all, and she’d just made a giant fool of herself, blurting out what she felt, yet again, to a man out to break her heart if she let him.

She stared at the man opposite her, watching his lips move, trying to take in his long-winded explanation over the rush of blood to her face and the heavy weight in her chest.

She choked back the burning sensation in her throat. She wasn’t going to be Mrs Brooks. She wasn’t going to be Mrs Anybody.

She wasn’t ever going to find someone to love her, and the fact tore through her heart, ripping all her dreams to shreds.