Читать книгу The Bridal Chase - Darcy Maguire - Страница 8

ROXANNE sat behind the desk in Nadine’s office, back straight, chin up and eyes forward, counting down the minutes until the client arrived.

She could hear the woman’s high heels on the stairs, could almost hear what she was thinking about the state of the place, the lighting and the lack of paint on the walls in the hall as she came in.

Roxanne flattened down her hair, straightened her shirt collar and placed her hands calmly on the desk. It was time to get this over with, and she wasn’t in any hurry to get into this situation again. Nadine may be suited to the task of testing men, but not her. She was happy to stay in the office where she was safe.

The door opened. Roxanne forced a gentle smile to her face. ‘Good morning, Miss Moreton.’

‘Save it. Just tell me…did you get the dirt on him?’ she barked.

Roxanne stared at Cade’s elegant fiancée. Her three-piece trouser suit was as light as her skin, as pressed and flawless as her hair and as expensive as the jewellery that glittered at her neck, ears and wrists, including an incredible diamond on her ring finger. Cade’s ring.

Roxanne crossed her arms over her chest. ‘Have you considered for a moment that he may be the kind, upstanding, loyal man he appears to be?’

‘I didn’t pay you to find that out.’ She stalked across the room, made a cursory appraisal of the velvet-padded chair and sat down gingerly on it. ‘I paid you to tempt him and I have to say that your red slinky dress was a nice touch. He didn’t stand a chance.’

‘Again, you assume that the man isn’t faithful to you.’ Roxanne rearranged the pens on the desk, annoyed at the woman’s attitude. It was almost as though she wanted him to have cheated on her. ‘I gave you the thumbs up signal,’ she suggested lightly. Had she assumed she’d meant the worst?

‘Yes, I saw…because you got the result.’

‘I got a result, yes.’ Roxanne shook her head. ‘I have to ask, are you just terribly insecure about your own worth…because I’m sure there are attributes that you have that Cade loves you for.’

Roxanne held her breath, watching the woman consider her question, her pinched mouth and drawn brow sending a sliver of concern sliding through her. Maybe she didn’t. Apart from being impeccably neat, with the style of a model and the looks of one…she probably didn’t think she had much else, but Cade obviously did.

Heather waved a hand impatiently. ‘I did not employ you to be a counsellor. I employed you to test my fiancé and find out if he deserves me.’

Roxanne chilled at the woman’s harsh tone and foregone conclusion. ‘You seem to have already made up your mind about him. Can I ask why? Do you have suspicions? A reason not to trust him?’

The woman lit up a cigarette. ‘He’s a man, isn’t he?’

‘Not all men are the same,’ Roxanne blurted, biting her tongue. Was that her talking? After Aaron and David and Steve…

The woman lifted a finely crafted eyebrow. ‘Look, if it’s a question of money I’m quite willing to pay more if you need more time to fashion yourself to be just the sort of woman he’d look sideways at. Or if you feel that the job you’ve already done—and which you’re dragging out—is worth more. Fine, I’ll pay it, just tell me he’s a lying cheat.’

Roxanne stared at the papers in front of her, shuffling them dutifully, knowing full well the only evidence she had was of the man being nice, caring and wonderful, if not a little too kind to strange women at bars.

Miss Moreton stood up, glaring down at her. ‘The wedding is in less than two weeks. Two weeks! Have you any idea how much organisation is in a wedding? How much it costs? How much pressure there is? You have to give me something…anything…’

‘If you’ve got cold feet, maybe you should discuss it with your fiancé,’ Roxanne suggested, tipping her head and trying to make the woman out. It seemed that she only wanted one outcome and that was all she would accept. ‘Rather than go this way.’

The woman stared icily at her. ‘Again, not your business, just tell me what I want to know.’

‘Okay.’ Roxanne lifted the file from beside her, the tape she’d made sitting under it. ‘As you know, I’ve had two encounters with your fiancé and I don’t feel anything more would be gained from another.’

She toyed with the tape. If only she hadn’t been paid to meet with him. ‘I have the conversation recorded for verification.’

Heather snatched the tape off her and stowed it in her bag. She paused, looked up and smiled. ‘I’m paying for it, aren’t I?’

Roxanne froze. The tape…the actual evidence of what didn’t go down. ‘The tape is quite general. He appears to be a complete gentleman in everything he says and does,’ she said carefully, wondering how to break the news that Cade appeared to be everything a woman could want in a man.

‘But—’ Miss Moreton leant her palms heavily on the desk, staring down at Roxanne with eyes blazing.

‘God help me. Tell me there’s a but. I’ve got thirteen days until the wedding. Give me a reason not to marry the man.’

She stared blankly at the woman. ‘Okay.’ Roxanne jerked to her feet, her blood heating at the ridiculousness of the situation. This woman had a really nice guy and she didn’t want him while there were a multitude of women out there struggling to find just that.

Darn it. The woman didn’t want the truth…she only wanted to hear that Cade was a cheat.

What did he see in her? Was this the real woman and he was some masochist or was she two-faced and had taken the poor guy for a ride?

She couldn’t imagine Cade with anyone who wasn’t nice…

Roxanne lifted her chin. Well, she would darned well give the woman what she wanted.

She thrust the file across the desk with an invoice for her time. ‘The man had bedroom eyes,’ Roxanne blurted, meeting the client’s cold hard gaze, knowing that the tape could in no way show it. ‘And the sexiest mouth that he used to his advantage—though not a crime…’

What was she doing?

Giving Heather Moreton what she wanted, what the client wanted, and what every single woman in Sydney would want her to do to free up another nice guy.

‘He sat so close to me his fresh soap and spicy cologne filled my senses—’ She paused and took a deep breath, closing her eyes. ‘And he was radiating pure hot male just waiting for the right woman to come and sate his lust.’

Miss Moreton straightened tall. ‘So he did proposition you?’ she said, her face softening.

Roxanne wet her dry lips, her mind filling with visions of what it would have been like with him if Heather hadn’t been his fiancée.

She glanced at the client who was nodding enthusiastically, her face all smiles at the supposed revelation. Would Miss Moreton hear the truth if she actually listened to the tape in her bag? Probably not with the prejudice she seemed to have.

‘He all but invited me to a gallery,’ she said, finding it easier to embellish the truth knowing it was what the client wanted.

Cripes, Heather almost looked ecstatic at the news. ‘He teased me with his schedule, probably in the hopes that I’d hook up with him later.’ She bit her lip, trying to stop herself.

‘What else?’ Heather barked.

She wanted more? ‘And he failed to mention his engagement to you,’ she said in a rush. ‘And I have to say that we really had a connection, and if you hadn’t come in when you did we probably would have…spent the night together.’

She looked away, embarrassed at the insinuation she’d given. Sure, they would have. He was easy to talk to and she was sure they could have talked all night, but Heather Moreton probably didn’t want to know that.

Miss Moreton nodded, a thin smile stretching across her face. ‘Good. Good.’ She gave the invoice a glance, bent over and wrote a cheque, her grin widening. ‘I should have known you were a professional. I was a bit worried last week but you came through.’

‘Here to help,’ Roxanne said tightly. This was absolutely crazy. The man was a saint and a wonderful guy…but if this woman didn’t see that, didn’t want to see that, then she didn’t deserve him.

Cade deserved true love and happiness, not to be married to a witch who didn’t even want him.

She leant back in her seat watching the woman, with her perfect head held high and her grin a mile wide, straighten up and saunter out of the office.

Roxanne then stared at the cheque on the desk, gnawing on her bottom lip. She had done the world a favour. She’d saved a really nice guy from a fate worse than death and liberated a bachelor for some grateful woman somewhere who’d treasure him.

She didn’t know what Heather Moreton’s problem was, but it was solved now. For better or for worse, Cade was free.

Cade leant against his car, waiting for Heather. It wasn’t typical for her to change their plans, let alone bring them forward. Backward, yes. She’d done that a fair bit over the past few weeks, but she’d never made it sooner.

He rubbed his jaw. She probably just wanted to talk about the wedding. The last-minute plans, including whether he’d done his bit in organising the honeymoon.

She needn’t have worried. He had it all covered.

Maybe she wanted to talk about Roxanne.

He’d felt all last night through the meal the weight of the unsaid between them. It didn’t feel right that she could ignore what had happened.

She’d had every opportunity to question his affection for her after seeing him with Roxanne at the bar, the same woman she’d seen him with the other day.

Did she trust him that much?

Did she love him that blindly? Hell, he was a fool. How could he doubt his own affection for his fiancée now…when she was obviously so in love with him, and just weeks before the wedding?

She loved him.

It was in everything she did. The time she spent with him and his friends. The time she took out of her busy schedule to visit his family. The time she was taking away from him to make their special day unforgettable.

How could he even spend a moment thinking about the woman in red at the bar?

He sighed. He couldn’t believe how the communication between him and Heather had gone awry that day. He was sure her message had been that she couldn’t make it. Then she’d turned up out of the blue.

She must love him so much to get out of some meeting to spend time with him. And he was making an idiot out of himself.

Maybe it was just cold feet. Nerves. The last fantasy of an engaged man…with under a fortnight to go until he walked down the aisle.

He sucked in a deep breath and pushed down his negative thoughts. He should concentrate on spending all the time he could with Heather, focusing on her needs, helping her with their wedding plans and being her rock.

She was doing so much for them both, and the time she spent away from him was probably as hard on her as it was for him…when they needed to spend time together and affirm their connection.

He crossed his arms and leant back, leaning on his car, surveying the basement garage of Heather’s apartment complex. She’d probably realised it herself and needed to see him tonight…for him to hold her and tell her how much he wanted to marry her, for her to tell him how much she loved him.

Cade sighed. No doubts and no distractions would be nice until the wedding, but he knew that life rarely worked like that.

It had been a funny thing to meet that stunning woman again. He’d thought meeting a woman like that last week had been special, fated, a sweet reminder of all the things he had to look forward to with Heather, once they were married.

He’d wondered about her all weekend, considering what the story might be behind her making the first move.

There was no reason why a woman that beautiful had to go putting herself on the line to find nice men.

Hell, were nice men blind?

To meet the mystery woman again had been surreal. She was so different. Intriguing. And damned hard to get out of his mind.

‘Cade,’ Heather barked, striding towards him, stunning in a white three-piece suit, her hair curled up and her lips pulled thin.

Cade frowned. He’d never heard that tone before—hard and icy—she must have had a rough day and needed him all the more.

‘Heather.’ He opened his arms for her warm embrace but she stopped two paces too short, her face sober, her eyes narrowed. ‘What’s wrong?’

She grasped the engagement ring he’d given her, yanked it off her finger and held it out to him, her palm flat. ‘I’m afraid the engagement is off.’

‘Off?’ he echoed, peeling himself off his car and standing tall, staring at the ring in her hand, his mind tumbling around for the significance in her words. Was she being serious?

‘Off,’ she snapped, shoving the ring into his jacket pocket and shrinking back as though she was loath to touch him. ‘I don’t want to marry you any more.’