Читать книгу How to Win a Guy in 10 Dates - Jane Linfoot - Страница 6

‘COULD you please make the smallest effort to sit still, or do I have to watch you wriggle in your seat all day?’ Ed’s voice echoed off the walls of the hospital waiting area, short, gruff, tetchy.

Millie sent him a searing scowl. He was making no effort to hide his irritation, so why should she. With his stubble shadow, and his denim rips he seemed too large and blatantly sexual for this clean, clinical environment. Too bad this was all taking so long.

Waiting was the name of the game here, and irritated as he sounded, he was much better at waiting than she was, sitting all chilled and relaxed, one well-muscled arm flung across the back of the next chair, whilst she changed position once a second.

She’d already been into a cubicle with a nurse and answered lots of questions.

Name? Millie Brown, aka .… no need to expand on that one. Headache? Yeah, obviously. Double vision? Not yet, except perhaps when she went cross eyed ogling the hunk that brought her here. Mental note to self to stop that. Drowsy? No more than usual. Dizzy? Not that she was admitting it, and only because the whole A&E thing was making her hyperventilate. One glimpse of a blue surgical gown was enough to spin her right back to that last awful time she’d been in hospital. The panic she’d felt, then the pain, and the desperate emptiness afterwards. The smell of the antiseptic took the blurry images and brought them back in Technicolor. So much so, that when she’d gone to another room where another nurse stuck her cut together with glue, the nurse made her lie down before she let her go back to the waiting area.

And sitting with him now was driving her further up the wall than ever. Every time she saw him her mind went off on its own out-of-control extrapolation, along the lines of rocks, wet skin, underwear, sex, for no other good reason than because the guy had emerged from the quarry, looking like a model who’d lost the fashion shoot. It was bad enough being here – the smell of the place was making her feel faint – without having this Ed and his whole heap of attitude along for the ride.

She leaned towards him. ‘You really don’t need to stay. At this rate, it may take all day. I’ll be fine on my own, thanks.’

‘And you’ll get home how?’ His long, lean legs extended towards her as he stretched, and crossed his ankles casually.

She pursed her lips, screwed up her face, and refused to look at the straining denim bulge at his groin. He had her there. She had no money on her. No phone. The hospital was miles away from home. If she had to get a taxi back, it would cost an arm and a leg, and there was no-one she could think of to ring to collect her. One bad idea to end up here when her best friend was away. So much for being independent. She let that one go.

‘You could go for a coffee or something?’ Give her a break from his shed-loads of animal magnetism.

‘And they might move you in the meantime. Given that your phone is lying up in that field, I might never find you again.’

No answer to that one either. She watched him stand up, ease back those disgustingly broad shoulders, and saunter towards a table of magazines. Only because there wasn’t anything else to look at. Nothing to do with the fact he was eye-candy of the highest order. Sweet as it came.

And one heck of a kisser.

That much she could remember. Even if it had been an accident. Her eyelids fluttered involuntarily and her mouth watered at the thought of it. The taste. She jumped as he burst in on her action re-play.

‘Want a magazine?’ He held up a copy of Ideal Home. ‘Horse and Hound? Hello? Woman’s Weekly?’

She shook her head, and prayed she hadn’t flushed as fuchsia pink as she felt. And the tilt of his head said he was mocking her too. Damn. Shame he didn’t have a personality to match the looks and the kissing skills. Shame for someone, though not her, obviously. Men were nowhere on her agenda, not even on the distant horizon. Definitely no room for a drop dead specimen who’d materialized from nowhere to pay havoc with her pulse rate. Not with her life-plan.

Her eyes were still glued to him as he sat down and open a dog-eared car magazine. It was so unfair when a man got eyelashes like that. Thick, delectably dark. At least Motor World might keep him off her case.

‘Millie Brown?’ Millie started as she heard an approaching nurse shout her name. ‘The doctor wants you to go down to X-ray. There may be quite a wait.’

‘X-ray?’ Millie felt her chin jut defensively, as her chest tightened. ‘Why do I need an X-ray?’

‘How about, to see if you’ve got a cracked skull?’

Arrogant Ed got in before the nurse, who wafted a sheaf of papers at Ed, then winked at Mille. ‘We’ll let your partner take charge of the papers. Make sure he looks after you!’

Millie opened her mouth to protest loud and hard, but the nurse had already bustled away.

‘That’s official, then. I’m along for the ride.’ Ed shot her a satisfied smirk. ‘Do you want to take Horse and Hound with you? And do you want to go in a wheelchair, or on a trolley?’

***

X-ray was a marathon away. At least.

From her milky pallor, Ed would have laid a bet that Miss Independence here was regretting refusing transport, but if she was stubborn and belligerent, that was down to her. When they finally reached X-ray it was after a series of false starts, wrong turns, and a whole heap of silent recriminations, on both sides.

‘Grab a seat. I’ll sort the official stuff.’ He sidled up to reception, doubting that Millie had the strength to stand. Confidently, he threw the receptionist the full-on radiance of the five hundred watt smile he kept for emergency use only and was sent away with a promise of a two hour wait. Without the smile he suspected it could have been two weeks.

Millie gave the bloodstained haystack of hair above the bandage a vigorous rub, and groaned loudly as he landed on the seat next to her. ‘I just lost the will to live.’

She leaned back on her plastic chair and closed her eyes.

Was she really that stupid? ‘I thought they told you not to go to sleep.’

She blew loudly, opened her eyes and flashed him a flaming stare. ‘I’m not. Okay?’

Then promptly shut her eyes again.

Something about the undiluted indignation in the angle of her chin made him smile. Hell, he should’ve sent Blake to do this, or one of the other guys. There was no need for him to be here. The details of the firework display in Provence still had to be finalised, there were company takeovers that needed his attention, but for one strange moment he didn’t mind being here at all. Possibly he was feeling guilty that the old warning signs up by the quarry were too faded, and should have been renewed. Maybe it was his instinct for tying up loose ends, seeing things through, to avoid problems later. Maybe it was that kiss.

He let his eyes trail up, from her scuffed boots, over bare, dirt-streaked legs, to take in the way her denim shorts creased on the curve of her stomach, the way the cotton of her vest tugged tight across the bulge of her breasts. From the riot of her hair, she might have fallen out of a haystack. Probably had. So not his type, however lush her lips. However, she’d made his blood race.

Maybe he needed to keep Miss Awkward awake. Easier to keep from ogling her when she was conscious. He gave her a prod on the leg, and she blinked and sniffed, and turned to him woozily.

‘So what do you do when you’re not falling off horses?’

She hesitated, considered. ‘This and that.’

‘That’s illuminating.’ So why did he even want to know?

‘I’m multi-faceted. Do lots of things.’

Like dodging the issue. ‘Such as?’ He wasn’t backing down, and he sensed her get that. Sensed her caving in.

She shuffled her shoulders. ‘Things like teaching dancing, exercising the pony, keeping an eye on my employer’s Grandma, when the family’s out of town. Except she’s away now too. And I make collaged boxes, special ones, with lots of sticking and gluing. Satisfied?’ She gave him a hard stare, as if she resented his intrusion. ‘So what would you be up to if you weren’t here? Slaving in the quarry?’

A counter inquisition? Only to be expected.

‘Blowing things up. Big bangs and all that.’ That pretty much covered it, he guessed. No need to say he headed up a worldwide mining and blasting company, with a mega-bucks turnover, and ran a fireworks subsidiary just for fun. Not that he left the boardroom much these days. A desk-bound explosives expert, who’d lost his way.

Something about that reply shut her up, and she leaned back and closed her eyes again.

He sat back, scanned the busy waiting room, a world away from the smart, sparsely populated private clinics his family used. Beyond the silent TV with subtitles, an elderly man was helping his wife negotiate her walking frame past a couple exchanging grimaces over the heads of their squabbling kids. Next to them a couple of teenagers, seemingly joined at the hip, were clutching each other’s hands, oblivious.

Now he’d started noticing, there were couples everywhere he looked. Damn Carrie and her coupledom flag waving. And they all seemed to be supporting each other. Supporting? Was that what couples did? The whole relationship thing was so far off his radar, he really wouldn’t know. Not a place he planned on exploring any time soon. Probably not ever. He snorted loudly, at the thought of what he’d let himself in for with this darned dating challenge. He tried to rationalise the fact it was freaking him out. It had already caused him to wreck one car for chrissakes.

Realistically, it shouldn’t bother him. He needed to chill, take it in his stride. But a month in, he still hadn’t come across a suitable woman. He was a man who moved mountains, literally, on a daily basis. Jeez, what could be so difficult about a few dates? It was easy stuff. But he needed to tackle it, before he crashed any more cars. Okay, he had cars coming out of his ears, but not for wasting like that. But first he had to find a woman who was up to the task.

His eyes snagged on Millie again.

No. Absoloutely not. Definitely not her.

Except she was objectionable enough to satisfy Carrie’s criteria – a million miles from being compliant. And totally not what he’d ever go for in real life. A girl with riotous hair, and tattoos – one tattoo on her leg, he assumed there would be more – who majored in sticking and gluing. He bit back a broad grin. Cassie would be gob-smacked and it would damn well serve her right. He already knew what fun it would be.

Shame then, it didn’t seem right to go there.

Big shame, seeing as he’d pretty much racked up one date already, given they’d been here four hours. He couldn’t think when he’d last spent that long with a woman. Women didn’t particularly cross his path, other than at the wealth-dripping social occasions he attended, when he literally had to fight them off, and usually ended up taking his pick for a hot after-party liaison. It was all very well to talk about finding a suitable woman for the challenge as if women were ten a penny, but in his daily life they weren’t. Women were pretty damned scarce in the working stratosphere he moved in, and suitable women were even scarcer. Where the heck was he going to find one? He couldn’t fail the challenge before he’d even begun, because he couldn’t find a woman.

‘Sorry … ’ Millie had opened her eyes with a start and fixed him a grey-green gaze that sliced straight through his protective shell. ‘But you don’t smell like you work in a quarry.’

Hands in the air, he’d been over-zealous with the body spray this morning, and now she’d caught him out.

‘A bit of a random comment for a Monday lunchtime. Where did that come from?’ Not that he gave a damn, but more time to tailor his answer would come in handy.

Why was he still clinging to the pretence of being a quarry worker anyway? He could tell her something a whole lot closer to the truth without letting on to her that he was the CEO. But if he did that, he’d eliminate her from his challenge field at a stroke.

‘Caught a waft/making conversation/passing time. You choose.’ She threw him a smile he assumed was accidental. ‘Anything rather than go insane with boredom.’

Something about that smile made him decide his answer. ‘And probably I don’t smell of quarries because you caught me early on. By the end of the day it’s a whole different story.’

So he hadn’t ruled her out completely yet, according to the answer he’d given there. Not exactly a lie. Rather a judicious ambiguity. But she might not be available for his challenge, even if he ruled her in and that thought elicited a twang in his chest he couldn’t explain. She didn’t fit into his ideal, svelte-glossy-groomed-woman box, but that didn’t mean there wouldn’t be queues of other guys waiting to suck up her brand of curvaceous smolder. But if that was the case, why was she here with him? He watched as she drew one foot up onto the chair, and hugged her bent, bare leg close against one full breast, rested her chin on her knee, bit the fullest of lower lips, then closed her eyes again.

Pure sex kitten. Ready to play.

He shuffled in his seat, tried unsuccessfully to achieve some sort of negotiated settlement with his borrowed jeans, and opened Motor World. Not because he wanted to read about cars. He didn’t. Cars were the last thing he wanted to read about. But Motor World was his only hope of keeping his eyes off the troubling body beside him.

***

‘We’ve been here eight hours, and now you’re telling me I can’t go home?’ Millie rounded on the nurse, her anger strangled by the panic that tightened around her throat. ‘I won’t stay here, I can’t stay here … ’

The last time she’d stayed in hospital … She gritted her teeth to banish that thought.

The nurse was insistent. ‘You lost consciousness earlier, you have suspected concussion. For your own safety you need someone with you for the next twelve hours, otherwise we won’t be able to discharge you.’

‘Is there a problem?’ Ed sauntered over, hands rammed into his pockets, his past-caring face long since worn out. All she needed. He’d been driving her crazy simply being here, all day long, with his superior expression, not to mention his shorter than short temper. Frankly, she’d met more mature two year olds. He obviously thought he was God’s gift to someone; she just wasn’t sure who yet. Sitting next to him had been like being rubbed all day with rough sand paper on bare skin. And he was going to love this. She already knew the way his disgustingly perfect features would twist as he gloated.

‘They won’t let me out unless there’s someone to stay with me until morning.’ She couldn’t bring herself to say there was no-one she could think of to ask. Darned countryside, with hardly any people, her best friend off back-packing and after being here a year, no-one else she knew well enough to ask. All the family where she was living were away until the end of the week, even Grandma. It wouldn’t have been like this if she’d stayed in the city. She had stacks of friends there. It was all very well being independent, coming to the country to get a free house whilst she built up her business, but there were times when it had serious drawbacks.

‘My sister was ill for a long time, I can’t stand medical environments.’ She hurled that nugget at the nurse and the man, both staring at her, bemused. The truth, but missing out the real reason. Hopefully enough to explain her reluctance.

She tried not to remember how much she didn’t want to stay here, how much she detested hospitals, how ill they made her feel after the last time. She threw one desperate glance in Ed’s direction. ‘Unless … ’

‘Unless what?’

‘You wouldn’t be able to..?’ She screwed up every bit of courage and put her irritation of the day to one side. It was a measure of how desperate she was that she was even thinking of this, but, whoa, she was desperate. Desperate enough to force out a smile.

‘Could you possibly stay with me for the next twelve hours?’

***

How the heck had it come to this? An hour later, pulling up outside Millie’s cottage, Ed’s internal panic alarm was blaring.

‘I’ll wait in the car while you go for your gear. Bring a quilt, my place is rough, I’ve got the builders in. And hurry up.’ As if barking at her would improve the situation at all.

He had to be mad to be doing this, but somehow Millie had caught him off guard. Maybe it was the wild, haunted flare in her eyes. Stroppy woman and sex kitten had melted away, leaving one girl who was just plain scared, though perhaps the full-on curve of her lips in that one begging smile had swung it. Then his own instinct to work every situation to the max kicked in, and he was straight on the phone to Carrie, saying ‘Dating Challenge on.’

When Millie re-appeared – not that he expected that to be any time soon – he’d drive into town, pick up a take-away, and then head back to the barn he was converting out on the estate. All agreed with Carrie as a suitable wealth-concealing, coupledom activity.

Twelve hours from now Date One would be over. All good.

Except now it came to it, he was the one bricking it, and he had no idea why.