Читать книгу Modern Romance March 2015 Collection 2 - Кэтти Уильямс, Jane Porter, Cathy Williams - Страница 14
ОглавлениеSO WHY WAS she now, a mere day and a half later, sitting in splendid luxury on a private plane heading to Salamanca on the outskirts of Madrid?
Next to her, Lucas was absorbed in a bewildering array of figures on the computer screen blinking in front of him. The ‘this and that’ had kept billionaires busy and hard at it.
Milly sighed. She knew why she was here; she was just too soft-natured. It was an emotional hazard that was close cousin to the ‘overly trusting’ side of her that had propelled her into naively believing that the billionaire with the private jet had been a ski instructor—which in turn had been the same side of her that had encouraged her to think that Robbie the cheat had been in love with her rather than mildly fond and willing to exploit.
‘You’re sighing. Tell me that you haven’t done a U-turn on your decision.’ Lucas snapped shut his computer and sprawled back in the oversized seat, which was just one of the many perks of having his own plane—no unwelcome strangers crowding his personal space and as much leg room as he needed. He was a big man.
He looked at her, his dark eyes lazily drifting over the baby-smooth, soft curves of her open, expressive face. She had tied her long hair back but, as usual, unruly curls were refusing to be flattened into obedience.
‘What would you do if I told you that I had? We’re in mid-air. Would you chuck me out of your plane? I still can’t believe that you actually own this, Lucas.’
‘I don’t employ strong-arm tactics, Milly. So no, in answer to your question, I wouldn’t chuck you out of the plane. And I’m getting a little tired of hearing you tell me how incredulous you find it that I happen to be rich.’
‘You can’t blame me. I don’t meet many people who own ski lodges and private planes.’ Her voice bore the lingering remnants of accusation.
‘I suppose I should be grateful that you’re no longer lecturing me for being a lying bastard like your long-gone ex-fiancé. Why are you sighing? If we’re going to do a passable imitation of being a loved-up couple, heavy, troubled sighs aren’t going to sell it.’
In response, Milly released another sigh as she absently looked at the stunningly beautiful face gazing at her with just the slightest hint of impatience.
‘You never told me why you’re so averse to settling down.’
‘You’re right. I didn’t.’
‘Why not? I’ve told you loads of stuff. The least you could do is fill me in, or am I supposed to be the clueless girlfriend?’
Lucas raked his fingers through his hair and stared at her in silence for a few seconds. ‘I don’t confide.’
‘And I don’t pretend to be someone I’m not.’
‘Bloody stubborn,’ he muttered under his breath. ‘Okay, if you really want to know, I had a poor experience when I was young. Take one pretty girl, making me so out of my normal comfort zone that I didn’t think twice about believing the clap trap she concocted, add a phoney pregnancy threat and I give you the sort of gold-digging experience that’s made me realise that, when it comes to permanence, the only kind I will ever go for is of the business arrangement variety. I’m a fast learner when it comes to mistakes and never making them again.’
‘That’s awful,’ Milly said, appalled. ‘How old were you?’
‘This isn’t a continuing discussion, Milly.’
‘But how old?’
Lucas shook his head, exasperated. ‘Nineteen.’
‘So you had a bad experience when you were a teenager and you’ve let it ruin your adult life and all the choices you make?’
‘Ruin? Wrong word. I prefer affect. Like I said, I learn from my mistakes.’
And he wasn’t about to budge. She could see that in his eyes and in the grim seriousness of his expression. It chilled her to the bone.
‘But what if you one day fall in love?’
‘Not on the cards. And, Milly, let’s put this conversation to rest now.’
‘I never thought that large scale lying was on the cards for me, yet here I am...’ She rested back and stared off at nothing in particular.
Lying was just not part of her nature and ye here she was, immersed in the biggest lie of her life, and all because she had had a vivid image of his mother, frail, vulnerable, bitterly saddened and disappointed at having to be told that she was the victim of a lying ex-girlfriend. She knew first-hand how much lies could wound. She also knew that men could be utterly blind when it came to health issues. If someone had been recently mown down by a bus and, when asked how they were, replied, ‘just fine,’ the average man would be insouciantly inclined to accept the answer at face value.
The average man would also be highly likely to underestimate the impact of disappointment on a sick and elderly person. Who knew how Antonia, Lucas’s mother, would react if she discovered the depth of the lies told to her? Stress killed. Everyone knew that. Whereas, if she were to see for herself just how unsuited Lucas was to her, Milly, then the termination of their so-called relationship would be no big deal. And unsuitable they most certainly were, especially after what he had just told her...
And, face it, there were all those other perks that would certainly make the horror story called her present situation so much easier to bear: job secured, accommodation secured, no nasty landlord banging on her door demanding to know when his rent would be paid.
She would be able to put her grandmother’s mind at ease that her life was back to normal and it would be.
‘I guess your mother was disappointed that you weren’t prepared to tie the knot with your girlfriend. I guess she doesn’t know about your hang-ups.’ She turned to him, wanting to hear just a little more about her competition, because now that they were en route to unchartered territory she could feel butterflies beginning to take up residence in her tummy.
‘My hang-ups. You really have a way with words. You conversationally go where no other woman has gone before. My mother may want me to settle down,’ he said drily, ‘But even she sussed that Isobel wasn’t going to be the perfect candidate for the position of stay-at-home wife.’
‘Because...?’
‘Because Isobel was more jet-setter than home-maker. I think it goes with the territory of being a supermodel. Something about being treated like a goddess when, in fact, you’re no more than a pretty face.’
‘Jet-setter...’
‘Glitz, glamour and an unnatural love of having cameras focused on her.’
‘The sort of girl you tend to go out with.’
‘Why the hundred and one questions, Milly?’
‘Because I’m nervous,’ she confessed. The way he described his ex was a fine example of a man who attached himself to just the sort of woman he was in no danger of wanting to commit to. Casual sex. She shouldn’t even bother to speculate on his motivations or lack of motivations when it came to women.
‘Think of the wonderful payback and your nerves will disappear. Trust me.’
Milly scowled because, however wonderful those paybacks were, they weren’t the reason she had agreed to engage in this little game of fiction and, the closer the plane got to their destination, the more she wondered whether her impulse to do what had felt right at the time really was such a clever idea.
Her impulses had been known to let her down.
‘I didn’t agree because of the...paybacks.’
Lucas’s eyebrows shot up and he gave her a slow, disbelieving smile.
‘You’re so suspicious,’ Milly muttered.
‘You’re telling me that your sole reason for agreeing to pretend to be my soon-to-be-departed fiancée is because you felt sorry for my mother, a woman you’ve never met in your life?’
‘Mostly. Yes.’
‘Nice word, mostly. Open to all sorts of conflicting interpretations.’
‘Sometimes you really annoy me, Lucas.’ Right now he was doing rather more than annoying her. Right now she wished that he would return to his obsessive contemplation of whatever high-powered deal he was in the middle of making, because his attention on her was making her feel all hot and bothered.
Having travelled with nothing suitable to wear for warmer temperatures, she was in a thermal T-shirt, jeans, her thick socks and trainers and the whole ensemble made her skin itch.
‘I’m just trying to... Wondering how...to pretend to be someone I’m not.’
‘You mean how to pretend to be someone in a relationship with me?’
‘I’ve never done anything like this before. I’m not the sort of girl who likes fooling people. It doesn’t seem kind and, whether you want to believe me or not, yes, the paybacks will certainly make my life a whole lot easier when I get back to London but mostly I’m doing this because I hate thinking that your mother’s had her hopes raised only to have them dashed, and cruelly dashed at that. I honestly can’t believe that anyone could tell such a horrendous lie to someone who hasn’t been well, just to get revenge because you let her down.
‘Has your mother ever been keen on any of your girlfriends?’
‘Not that I can recall offhand...’ And that had never bothered him until she began making noises about wanting him to settle down because ‘who knew what lay round the corner for her?’.
He knew what she thought of the Isobels of his life, the never-ending stream of decorative supermodels who enjoyed basking in his reflective glow; who simpered, acquiesced and tailored themselves to his needs. He, personally, had no problem with any of those traits; his work life was high-powered and stressed enough without adding more stress to the tally in the form of a demanding girlfriend. His mother, always grounded, was of a different opinion.
It occurred to him that this little game of make-believe might have an unexpected benefit.
Milly was as normal and as natural as the day was long. Were it not for his inherently suspicious nature, he would truly believe that, as she had stated, she had agreed to this well-intentioned charade from the goodness of her heart. She was just the sort of wholesome girl he would never seriously consider as a life partner in a million years. No; like it or not, if and when he decided to tie the knot, it would be with someone who saw marriage through the same eyes as his. It would be with someone who didn’t need his money, someone who understood the frailty of the institution and recognised, as he did, that marriage stood a far better chance of success if it was approached as a business proposition.
If his mother saw for himself just how unsuited he was for a girl like Milly—and for Milly read all women like her—not only would she accept it when they ‘broke up’ but she would understand that her dreams of romance and falling in love were not his. She would get it that his plans for himself lay in a different direction. It would be a salutary learning curve that would succeed where explanations had in the past failed.
‘My mother is a firm believer in true love and happy-ever-after endings,’ Lucas intoned with a corrosive cynicism he made no attempt to disguise. ‘She married the man she fell in love with as a teenager and they stayed married and in love until the day he died. She has high hopes that I might continue the tradition and she doesn’t see it happening in the arms of any of the supermodels I’ve ever dated.’
‘There’s nothing wrong with true love and happy-ever-after endings. You might have had one bad experience, but you can’t knock the real thing because of that.’
‘I’m surprised to hear you say that after what you’ve been through.’ But he wasn’t. She struck him as just the sort of hopeless romantic who nurtured secret dreams of the walk down the aisle in a big wedding dress, with a sprawling line of best-friend bridesmaids in her wake. The sort of girl who eagerly looked forward to testing her culinary skills in her very own kitchen while lots of little Millies pitter-pattered at her feet. Just the sort of girl his mother imagined for him and precisely the sort of girl he would run a mile from, because he’d had his learning curve when it came to all that nonsense about love.
‘Just because I was let down—’
‘Dumped by a guy who absconded with your best friend.’
Milly flushed hotly. ‘There’s no need to ram that down my throat.’
‘A little reality goes a long way, Milly.’
‘If by that you mean that it goes a long way to turning me into someone who doesn’t believe in love and marriage, then I’d rather not face it.’
‘Well, considering I have no time for any of that, it should be a cinch demonstrating to my mother just how incompatible we are.’
‘If we’re that incompatible, then I’m wondering how we ever got involved with one another in the first place,’ Milly said tartly. ‘I’m broken-hearted and vulnerable after a broken engagement, and you swoop into my life and decide that I’m the one for you even though I’m the last person on the planet you would get involved with? How does that make sense, Lucas?’
‘Like I said, my mother is a devotee of fairy stories like that.’
‘Then she doesn’t know you at all, does she?’
‘Do you ever accept anything without questioning it out of existence?’ He shook his head and sighed with a mixture of resignation and exasperation. ‘People believe what they want to believe even if evidence to the contrary is staring them in the face. My mother believes in true love without any encouragement from me, I assure you. So she won’t find it odd at all that you’ve swept me off my feet.’
Milly blushed and looked away. ‘Does she know about your experience with that girl when you were still a kid? An excusable mistake when you were too young to know better.’
‘Is that your way of introducing your analysis of the experience?’ He shot her a glance of brooding impatience, which she returned with unblinking disingenuousness. ‘Which I’m seriously regretting telling you abou. To answer your question, no, she doesn’t.’ His gaze became thoughtful. ‘Which brings me to one or two ground rules that should be put in place.’
‘Yes?’ What would it take to sweep a man like Lucas off his feet? she wondered. Someone amazing. And that person existed, even if he didn’t think so. His parents had been happily married, as had hers. Her grandmother had told her numerous tales of how much in love her parents had been. Inseparable, she had said. Growing up, Milly had never tired of looking at snapshots of them together; had never tired of hearing all the small details of the childhood sweethearts who had grown up together and had never wavered in their love for one another. Maybe those tales had formed the person she was now: idealistic and eternally hopeful that she would one day find the right guy for her.
If it was inconceivable that someone like Lucas, jaded and cynical, could ever be attracted to someone like her, then it was equally inconceivable that someone like her, optimistic and romantic, could ever be attracted to someone like him.
‘Ground rules...’ he repeated gently, snapping her out of her reverie.
‘Oh, yes, you were about to tell me.’
‘Ground rule number one,’ he said, frowning, because never had he ever had to work so hard at getting a woman’s attention, ‘is the importance of remembering that this is just a temporary charade.’
Milly looked at him, eyes wide with puzzlement. ‘I know that.’
‘By which,’ Lucas continued, taking advantage of her full, concentrated attention before she could drift off into one of those doubtless cotton-candy fantasies of hers, ‘I mean that you don’t get ideas.’
‘What on earth are you talking about?’ Enlightenment dawned as he stared at her with unflinching intent. ‘Oh, I get it,’ she said slowly, as colour crept into her face and her heart picked up angry speed. ‘You don’t want me to start thinking that the game is for real. You really are the limit! Do you honestly imagine for a second that I would be stupid enough to fall for a guy like you? Especially after everything you’ve told me?’
‘Come again?’
‘You think that because you happen to be okay looking, because you happen to have a lot of money, somehow you’re an irresistible catch! And you may just be for all those supermodel women who like being draped over your arm, getting their pictures taken whenever they’re with you, but I meant it when I told you that I can’t think of anything worse! Least of all with a guy who’s said that he sees marriage as a business transaction!’
‘Sure about that?’ Lucas’s mouth thinned, a reaction to the unfamiliar sound of criticism.
‘Quite sure,’ Milly informed him scathingly. ‘I could never be interested in a man like you. I’m sure you have wonderful qualities...’ She paused for a heartbeat while she tried to imagine what those wonderful qualities might be. Certainly sensitivity and thoughtfulness didn’t feature too high.
Although, a little voice pointed out, isn’t his attitude towards his mother an indication of just those qualities, lurking there somewhere underneath the cool, hard, jaded exterior?
‘But,’ she continued hurriedly, ‘I go for caring, sharing fun guys.’
‘Caring? Sharing? Fun? This may come as a shock, but when it comes to fun I can’t think of a single woman who’s ever complained.’
‘I’m not talking about sex,’ Milly said derisively, scarlet-faced, because really what on earth did she know about sex? Her life had not exactly been littered with panting suitors desperate to strip her naked and climb into bed with her. Sure, there had been interest. She had even gone out with a couple of them. But none of those brief relationships had ever stayed the course. Either she was too fussy or she just wasn’t clever enough to play the games that most women knew how to play, the games that trapped men. Not that she had ever had any inclination to trap any of the guys she had dated briefly.
She went a shade pinker as she wondered how Lucas would react if he knew that she was a virgin. The virgin and the rake, poles apart, the most unlikely pretend couple in the world!
‘I’m talking about the sort of caring, giving man who shares the same belief system as I do; the sort of man who wants the same things that I want—love, friendship, a soulmate for life...’
‘Sounds thrilling,’ Lucas said drily. ‘You’re omitting passion. Or is that sidelined by the friendship, soulmate angle?’ He shot her a wolfish grin that made her skin prickle, made it difficult to keep her eyes focused on his lean, dark face. ‘Never mind, I get the picture, and I’m glad that we’re singing from the same song sheet. That being the case, you will have no need to pretend. I imagine our conflicting personalities will be enough to demonstrate to my mother that our relationship is not destined to last longer than it takes for you to rustle up a hot meal.’ He shrugged elegantly and shot her a crooked smile. ‘Feel free to share all your home truths about me!’
‘I most certainly will! And...one other thing.’ The plane began dipping, preparing to land. ‘I’m afraid I didn’t come prepared for warm weather.’ She thought wistfully of the innocent little ski-resort job she had mapped out as part of her recovery programme. ‘I hadn’t expected to find myself on a plane to Madrid.’
‘Believe it or not, there are shops there. A free wardrobe is part of the package.’
‘I don’t feel comfortable with that.’
‘Then we can agree on a repayment schedule— although you might want to settle into your new job when you get back to London before you start working out how to transfer money into my account for a handful of clothes.’
‘I wonder how it is that I never spotted just how infuriating you could be.’
‘That could certainly be one of the things you tell my mother that you dislike about me,’ Lucas pointed out. ‘Although who knows how she might react to the shock of hearing a woman speak her mind? You have to bear in mind that she’s had a stroke.’
‘You’re telling me that no one ever speaks their mind when they’re around you?’
‘Frankly, no. Although you’re more than making up for that.’
The small plane touched down smoothly, skimming over the landing strip like a little wasp before slowly grinding to a halt. Conversation was abandoned amidst the business of disembarking, after which a long, sleek car was waiting for them, complete with uniformed driver.
Cool, early spring temperatures greeted them. She was fine in what she was wearing but, stepping into the car, which was the height of luxury, she was suddenly and acutely aware of just not quite blending into her surroundings. What was appropriate gear for travelling in a luxury chauffeur-driven limo? She was sure that there would be some sort of dress code and, whatever it was, it certainly wasn’t what she was wearing. His mother might disapprove of supermodel girlfriends, but supermodel girlfriends would match expensive limos; supermodel girlfriends would pull off luxury houses and private planes...
And suddenly she felt that tug of self-consciousness that had been her occasional companion growing up—the little pang of knowing that she really wasn’t too sure when it came to the opposite sex, of knowing that she would never really make it into the inner sanctum of the cool set, even though she got along just fine with them. Lucas’s mother might have whimsical dreams about her son finding a suitably wholesome, down-to-earth girl but she would discover fast enough that wholesome, down-to-earth girls were not fashioned for ridiculously wealthy lifestyles.
Her eyes slid across to where he was sitting, casually at ease in his expensive limo. His sense of style was so much a part of him that he could have been wearing a bin bag and he would still have looked stupendously sophisticated. Stupendously sophisticated and utterly, bone-meltingly, sinfully sexy.
He was right. There would be no need for her to pretend because there was no way his mother could fail to notice just how ill-suited they were as a couple. She wouldn’t be deceiving anyone. She would just have to be herself. This was going to be a little adventure, nothing to get all worked up and anxious about. Life threw curve balls and she was catching one. When again would she find herself in this position—freed from all responsibility; no job, nothing waiting for her back in London, suddenly free to do exactly what she wanted to do?
She rested her head back and half-closed her eyes, and when she turned to look at him after a few seconds it was to find him staring right back at her. He had the darkest eyes imaginable and lashes most women would kill for. The perfect, beautiful symmetry of his lean face should have made him too...pretty, but there was a harsh, dangerous strength there that made him 100 percent alpha male.
Her heart skipped a beat. She was supposed to be romantically involved with the guy! What a joke. As though someone like him would ever look at someone like her! Even that gold-digger who hadn’t been a supermodel had probably looked like one. But for a few heart-stopping seconds she imagined what it might feel like to be touched by him; to be seduced by that rich, dark, dangerous, velvety voice; to have him run his hands over her naked body.
She bit back a stifled gasp as moisture pooled between her legs and a heavy, tingling ache began in her breasts and coursed through her body until she felt hot and uncomfortable in her skin.
It was a physical reaction that was so unexpected and so blindingly powerful that she felt faint. Faint, giddy and slightly sick. She couldn’t remember feeling anything like this when she had been with Robbie. In fact, she couldn’t remember feeling anything like this ever. She was shockingly aware of her own body in a way she never had been before, aware that she wanted it to be touched, wanted the strange tickle between her legs to be alleviated.
She dragged her eyes away from his mesmerising face, mortified at the suspicion that he could see exactly what was going through her head, and even more mortified when she belatedly remembered what he had said about making sure she didn’t start getting ideas.
‘How long before we get, er, to your mother’s house?’ she asked because talking might distract her from what was going on with her body.
A little over an hour. An hour of sitting next to him in the limo, trying hard to rein in her wandering mind. An hour of pretending not to notice the muscled strength of his forearms; the taut pull of his trousers over his powerful thighs; the length of his fingers; the sexiness of his mouth; the way his voice curled around her, tantalising, tempting, as velvety smooth as the finest dark chocolate.
Every confusing sensation racing through her body and running like quicksilver through her head crystallised to demonstrate, conclusively, just how inexperienced she was when it came to the opposite sex. And, as if that wasn’t bad enough, she couldn’t even rely on good old common sense to point her in the right direction or else she wouldn’t be sitting here, pressed against the car door to create maximum space between them, babbling like the village idiot because it was better than letting any disturbing silences settle between them.
At the end of half an hour she knew more about Madrid than she did about her own village where she had grown up because she had plied him with questions. By the time they were drawing into Salamanca, she could have done a doctorate on the subject.
Not only did his mother have a house in Salamanca but she also had a house in Madrid for those times when she fancied an extended shopping trip to the city, or when she visited friends and wanted somewhere to stay over.
It hadn’t been used in a while because ill health had interrupted her usual routine, she had been told.
‘Relax,’ Lucas told her wryly. She was staring at him, mouth parted on the brink of yet another question. There seemed to be no end to them. He politely refrained from telling her that he had never known any woman to talk as much as she did. ‘You’re not walking into a dragon’s den.’
‘I didn’t think I was,’ Milly lied.
‘Oh, yes, you did. That’s why you haven’t drawn breath since you started asking me to give you a verbal guided tour of Madrid and its surroundings. If we’d been in the car for another hour, you would probably have extended your parameters to the rest of Spain, because you think that talking calms your nerves.’
‘I’m not nervous. We’ve agreed that neither of us has to pretend to be anything other than what we are.’
‘You’re nervous. And you’re the girl who wasn’t nervous when she was plying me with questions about my past. Don’t be.’ He gently tilted her chin away from him, directing her to look through the front window, and her eyes widened at the mansion approaching them. She had barely noticed when the limo had pulled off the main road. ‘We’re here.’
Milly’s mouth dropped open. The low white house with its red roof sprawled gloriously amidst a profusion of shrubs, flowers and trees. The intense blue of the sky picked up the even more intense, vibrant colours of the clambering flowers of every shape and variety, and everything melded harmoniously together into picture-postcard perfection.
Standing at the front door was a tall, striking woman leaning on a walking stick. Black hair was pulled back from an angular, handsome face.
‘I have no idea why my mother can’t let one of the maids get the door.’ But there was affectionate indulgence in his voice and Milly had a vivid image of the boy beneath the man, the unguarded person beneath the cynical, hard-edged adult in control of an empire. He was a loving son and she had a moment of piercing happiness that she had agreed to this unexpected charade.
‘She probably just can’t wait to see you.’
‘To see us...’ The limo swerved smoothly to a halt and, as they emerged from the car, she felt the heavy weight of his arm sling over her shoulders. ‘We are, after all, the loving couple,’ he whispered into her ear and the warmth of his breath made her want to squirm. ‘At least before the rot sets in...’ And, to prove his point, he curved his hand under her hair to caress the nape of her neck.
And then, barely breaking stride, with such naturalness that anyone would have been forgiven for thinking that what they had was real, he paused, dipped his head and covered her mouth lightly with his.
Just a brief meeting of tongues, enough to do devastating things to her body, then he was pulling away, hand still caressing her neck. The epitome of a man in love.
He couldn’t have been more successful at killing her nerves because how could she be nervous about facing his mother when her thoughts were all over the place at that what that casual kiss had done to her body...?
