Читать книгу The Bridal Chase - Darcy Maguire - Страница 7

THE restaurant was perfect. The lighting soft, the twinkling candles on the tables, the gentle strains of the lone lute player filling the room, curling around her.

The mood was gentle, romantic, inviting love, inviting intimacy…cripes, inviting sex. She couldn’t have done it better.

Roxanne swivelled on the barstool, surveying the patrons leaning in to each other in whispered closeness.

She had plenty of time. If he got here at a reasonable hour…and the word was that a call was going to come in with the message that suggested his fiancée couldn’t make it. He’d think there’d be plenty of time to explore his options with her, and for her to prove his infidelity.

The guy didn’t stand a chance.

She smoothed down her indecently tight red gown. She had considered a short one that showed a lot of leg but she decided classy elegance would be better in this case, knowing Cade a little better.

Roxanne caught herself. Not that she knew him. Goodness, a couple of seconds and a smile didn’t mean a thing.

Sure, she’d pored over the information that she had been given on him. The fact that he had two parents who were still in love after thirty-five years, that he had a younger sister in the art business, that he had an apartment on the north side with views of the bay and was a top architect and partner in a prominent firm in Sydney. They were just facts. So, the guy liked to go camping, fishing and to all sorts of theatre. It wasn’t like knowing this information meant anything, least of all that she was interested.

This was not a dating service—it was a fidelity-testing one to see whether the guy was marriage material for Miss Heather Moreton or not, to give a guarantee that most wanted when committing to a guy, but rarely got.

This was an amazing service that her sister offered her clients so they didn’t have to go through all that pain later. And it would come.

Men couldn’t be trusted. Not an inch, no matter how nice and kind and handsome they appeared to be. Men were all the same. Liars, who’d betray to serve their own interests when you least expected it.

She couldn’t help but think of her mother, her sister and a myriad of friends…

Roxanne gripped the bar stool.

Cade Taylor Watson strode through the door, his black suit hugging his generous frame, his white shirt throwing the deep purple tie he wore in stark contrast, and his presence striking her immediately.

Hell.

He could have been wearing a tuxedo for the cut of the suit, the commanding aura he exuded as he strode towards her…the bar.

She swung back around, staring at her tropical daiquiri, her mind blank.

What was her line for meeting him again? Fate? It seemed so stupid now…maybe he wouldn’t even recognise her from last time. He probably hadn’t given her a second thought over the weekend…

What she’d said to him had haunted her, as did her foolish move to rush in without looking at her watch, thinking of nothing but talking to the guy, touching base, making a connection and hoping and praying that he was interested in her and she wasn’t making the biggest fool of herself for talking to him.

The only difference in doing this job opposed to real dating was that she was getting paid…or at least Nadine was.

He took a stool one space away. ‘Scotch, neat,’ he directed the barman, plucking his pen from his shirt pocket.

She focused all her attention on her glass. Did he want her number? Already?

The umbrella in her drink was pink, sticking out at a wild angle, the straws standing tall and straight, the multitude of fruit stuck to the side of the glass testament to her avoidance of any alcohol this time, not until it was over. She couldn’t afford to take any risks.

It was her last chance. There was no way even the stupidest guy could imagine a chance meeting happening three times.

She adjusted the purse balancing on her lap, pushing down the button on the tape recorder. It probably would have been better to have hidden a camera somewhere but she had no idea how to use the one from the office, and from what Nadine said it had cost a fortune.

Roxanne straightened the umbrella and plucked a strawberry off the side of her glass, biting down on the soft flesh of the fruit, trying to think above the roaring blood in her head.

Wasn’t he going to say anything?

Did he remember her?

The silence between them stretched.

She felt a twinge of disappointment. Why couldn’t it have been easy?

She moved her glass, knocking her napkin off the bar. ‘Oh,’ she breathed, turning slightly and watching it flutter to the floor.

Cade looked up from the napkin he was doodling on, cast a look down at hers and bent down, snatching it with his long fingers. He lifted it and his gaze to her. ‘You dropped this—’

She met his golden eyes, a smile creeping unbidden to her lips at the surprise in them.

Point one for his act of surprise.

He handed her the napkin, his gaze skittering over her. ‘Aren’t you the woman with the cute pick-up line last Friday night at Harry’s?’

She nodded.

‘What did you say?’ he said, narrowing his eyes and pointing his pen at her.

She lifted a hand. ‘Oh, no. Don’t—’ The last thing she wanted was to revisit that embarrassment.

‘That I’d been in your dreams?’ he offered warmly, his gaze fixed on her face.

She shook her head, trying to laugh. ‘Okay, now it sounds ten times more corny than it did then.’

He laid the napkin on the bar, swinging his stool to face hers. ‘Fancy meeting you here.’

‘Yes.’ What else could she say? Certainly not the corny line she’d rehearsed about fate.

Cade rubbed his jaw, as though warring with himself. ‘Look, I’m sorry about leaving so abruptly.’

She waved her hands to stop him. There was no need to get down on tape that particular disaster. ‘What are you drinking? Can I buy you a drink?’

The barman delivered his Scotch. ‘Mr Taylor Watson?’

Cade glanced at the guy. ‘Yes.’

‘Message for you,’ the barman said, handing him a piece of paper.

Cade scanned the paper.

This was it. The message regarding his fiancée, saying she’d had to cancel on him, leaving him free to explore her…

She crossed her fingers on her lap, sending a prayer upward. This had to work. ‘Can I buy you that drink?’

Cade brandished his glass. ‘Thanks, but look, I’m sort of attached…’

Roxanne’s chest tightened. What now? Did that win him the grand prize of Heather Moreton?

She wasn’t used to this. This wasn’t her. She’d never initiated a date or anything with a guy. She’d taken the easy route, waiting until they showed interest in her and she was in the position of saying yes or no to them, not this way round.

She wasn’t good with rejection.

‘I hear the restaurant is good here,’ she offered, swinging back to her drink and taking a gulp. Better that she look uncommitted to the outcome…and better make sure that she appeared to have the message loud and clear, on tape.

Solid proof for the client.

‘Yes, it’s one of the best,’ he said easily. ‘The spinach and feta cannelloni is extremely nice…it’s my favourite.’

She turned to him, daring to look at the guy again. What the heck. If she wasn’t going to go all out tonight and test the man, she never would. ‘I love Italian.’

‘Me too.’

A silence descended between them. He seemed happy to sit quietly with his drink while she tortured herself over what in heaven she’d say next to get the job done right.

‘Nice weather we’re having,’ she offered, her cheeks heating annoyingly, lifting her gaze to meet his as the book said to do.

‘Yes.’ He smiled. ‘If we’re lucky it’ll rain all week while we work and be sunny for the weekend.’

‘You have plans?’ she blurted. ‘For the weekend?’ She glanced back at her drink and started plucking the rest of the fruit off the rim. ‘Not that I’m thinking of going wherever you do to initiate another very embarrassing conversation with a total stranger…’

He laughed. ‘I can’t say I thought that for a moment. There’s an exhibition at the gallery in the city with photos of architectural periods in the twentieth century.’

Roxanne nodded, thankful for the rescue from a fit of babbling that she could have drowned herself in. ‘Sounds interesting. I like the baroque period myself, but I’m guessing it’s a bit old to make it in.’

He raised his brows, nodding. ‘There are some baroque-like influences in the twentieth century architecture. There’s that building in the city—’ He stopped short, jerking his attention to his glass, swirling the contents.

She leant towards him. ‘What?’

He looked up, meeting her gaze. ‘Sorry. I get carried away.’

The urge to touch his arm was incredible. She figured that Nadine would have without hesitating, to test the guy, but she was frozen in her seat. ‘I’m interested,’ she said quietly. ‘You’re into architecture?’

‘I’m an architect.’ He offered his hand to her. ‘Cade.’

‘Roxanne,’ she said, joining her hand with his large strong one, slipping her fingers around his palm, absorbing the warmth and the strange tingling sensation.

‘And what do you do?’ he asked, wrapping his fingers around hers and holding.

Roxanne moistened her lips, fighting to stay focused. ‘I’m an office manager. Usually I work for small companies like real estate agents but at the moment—’ She caught herself. Idiot. How could she forget why she was here?

She stared at where her hand was still encompassed by his, his warmth slowly working its way up her arm and spreading through her like sunshine on a winter’s day.

Even if he appeared nice and kind now, he was still a man, like every other man, and would disappoint Miss Moreton…

She met his golden gaze. ‘At the moment I’m fine-tuning my skills at creating embarrassing silences, dishing out corny pick-up moments and collecting incredibly sad and pathetic rejections from really nice guys…who are already attached.’

‘What can I say?’ he murmured softly, the deep rumble of his voice echoing through her as he deftly pulled his hand back. ‘I’m incredibly flattered by your corny pick-up line and the fact that you’d go out of your way to offer it to me. That takes a lot of courage, you know.’

She nodded and took a long drink from her glass, savouring the sweetness and the bite that would make her feel better. ‘I know.’

‘I haven’t noticed any embarrassing silences… The quiet moments in our conversation have been opportunities for me to contemplate how beautiful you are and how many men would fall over backwards to get the sort of attention you’ve shown me.’ He leaned forward a little. ‘Can I ask, why do you feel you need to make the first move? You can’t be short of offers.’

Roxanne stared at him, his words melting over her. He thought she was beautiful? And what was it with him being so nice? This was all wrong.

‘That’s sweet of you, and I’m not short of offers,’ she said smoothly, ignoring the chaos inside her. ‘Just short of the right guys offering.’ She closed her eyes on the vision of a plethora of men and their propositions flooding in on her and just how many had turned into disasters.

She opened her eyes, meeting Cade Taylor Watson’s fine golden eyes that were watching her with a tenderness that belied his words.

Would it be out of the question to keep him if Heather didn’t?

She blinked and took another large gulp of her drink. Where had that come from? ‘And are you committed to someone special,’ she blurted, trying one more time for the coup de grâce, ‘or are you just attached tonight and you’re mostly single, available and looking for a date for the photo exhibition?’

‘I have a date.’

‘But—’ She could feel the icy fingers of rejection sliding through her again, and she didn’t want it, not yet. She wasn’t ready to end this conversation with Cade and give in to the fact that he was actually nice and Miss Moreton could go ahead and marry him. ‘I like you,’ she blurted.

Cade glanced at his watch and stood up, looking down at her, his face sober. ‘I like you too.’

This was it. She mentally crossed her fingers and toes, willing the outcome she was paid to get.

‘You’re a lovely person and I could always do with another friend,’ he offered, his tone soft.

‘Story of my life,’ she murmured. He was the perfect gentleman. She closed her eyes, imagining how thrilled the client would be at the news, fighting the odd sensation trying to smother her.

She’d wanted him to choose her.

If Cade Taylor Watson had chosen her everything would have been okay. She could keep going in life knowing men couldn’t be trusted and make her decisions accordingly. Now she was confused about everything except the fact that Heather Moreton was one lucky woman.

Roxanne felt him stiffen beside her.

She looked up.

His fiancée stood in the doorway, the woman who had his loyalty and his heart.

‘Good luck,’ he said, offering her a small consolatory smile. ‘With everything.’

‘You too,’ she whispered. When was she going to find a man like that to love her with such loyalty and commitment?

Roxanne watched Cade Taylor Watson saunter over to the love of his life, who was watching her with narrowed eyes.

She took a deep, slow breath and nodded, shooting Heather a thumbs up. She was one lucky girl to be marrying a man like that.

Roxanne drank the rest of her cocktail and stood up. The job was over and done with and not a minute too soon. She was getting far too involved in the charade for her own good.

How Heather could even have doubted him was beyond her; Cade was one hell of a guy.

She looked up to the ceiling and put her order in, and the sooner the better. She needed some happiness in her life too.

She only hoped there was another man like him out there for her.