Читать книгу Convenient Engagements: Fiance Wanted Fast! / The Blind-Date Proposal / A Whirlwind Engagement - Jessica Hart - Страница 8

FOR a moment there was utter silence, and then Kate looked at Bella with new respect. ‘That’s a brilliant idea, Bel!’ she said.

Phoebe was less impressed. ‘I don’t see that an imaginary lover is going to do me much good, however fabulous he is!’

‘The whole point is that he doesn’t seem to be imaginary,’ said Bella. ‘All you need is to hire someone to pretend to be a lover as fabulous as you want!’

‘You don’t mean hire a male escort?’ Phoebe stared at her, appalled. ‘I couldn’t do that!’

‘I’m not suggesting that you pick up some gigolo,’ said Bella reasonably. ‘I bet you’re not the first woman to need an escort in this kind of situation. There must be some reputable agencies that supply presentable types who are used to going along to weddings and official dinners. You’d have to pay for it, of course, but there wouldn’t have to be any funny business.’

‘Yes, and since you’re paying him, you could get him to say whatever you wanted,’ Kate added eagerly, picking up the idea and running with it with typical enthusiasm.

‘He’s bound to be good-looking if he works for an escort agency, so you could pretend he’s incredibly rich and successful, too. You can tell everyone that he utterly adores you, and asks you to marry him every day, but you’re not sure whether he’s exactly what you want, so you’re keeping him dangling.’

‘Why would I want to do that?’

‘So everyone will envy you, of course. The other women at the wedding, anyway,’ Kate qualified. ‘And the best thing is that if anyone meets you in the future and asks what’s happened to him, you can say that you just got bored with his insatiable sexual demands!’

Phoebe couldn’t help laughing. ‘That doesn’t sound very likely!’

‘OK, he can’t satisfy your insatiable appetite!’

‘Oh, yes, I can see myself telling Mum that when she asks why I don’t bring my nice young man down for the weekend!’

‘Kate’s just complicating things,’ said Bella, bringing them back to order. ‘All you need is someone attractive who will brush up nicely in a suit and look suitably adoring so that instead of everyone pitying you or making their husbands and boyfriends cover their eyes whenever you go near them, they’ll all be madly jealous!’

Phoebe let herself imagine what it would be like to turn up at Ben’s wedding with someone apparently rich and good-looking on her arm. She had to admit that as an idea, it had its advantages. Her mother and Penelope would relax and enjoy the wedding for a start, and there was no doubt that it would be easier to meet Ben and Lisa if she wasn’t quite so obviously left on the shelf.

‘I’m not sure I would have the nerve to carry it off,’ she said doubtfully.

Bella was having none of that. ‘Of course you would,’ she said briskly. ‘Now, the first thing is for you to start dropping a few hints to your mother that you’ve met someone special, and then we’ve just got to find you a man and get him primed up with your story.’

‘I don’t know …’ said Phoebe feebly, half dazzled and half terrified by the way Bella and Kate were sweeping her along on the tide of their enthusiasm.

They were always doing this, pushing her into doing things and then holding up their hands in innocence when the said things turned out to be a terrible mistake.

The colour of the bathroom paint—a lurid pink they had assured her would look fantastic—was a case in point.

Ignoring her feeble attempts to come up with some sensible objections—Phoebe was sure there had to be thousands, if she could only think of them—Kate and Bella were discussing how best to track down a reputable escort agency.

‘I suppose we could try the obvious and look in the Yellow Pages,’ said Bella eventually. ‘Where are they, anyway?’

She started hunting through the pile of clutter on the table. ‘I’m sure I saw them here the other day. God, we must tidy up soon, I can’t find anything—oh, that’s where my glove is!’ She fished it out triumphantly and tossed it onto the sofa, where it promptly slipped down out of sight once more.

‘Aha!’ she cried, spotting the directory, dragging it free of a welter of paper and beginning to flick through it without much system. ‘What do I look under? A for agency or E for escorts?’

‘Hold on,’ said Kate slowly. ‘I’ve got a better idea.’

Bella looked sceptical. ‘Not another of your elaborate fantasies?’

‘No, no, this is so simple and so obvious I don’t know why neither of you thought of it,’ she insisted. ‘Why go through an agency when we’ve got the perfect candidate living right here in the house?’

‘Who?’

‘Gib, of course!’

Kate sat back and beamed, delighted with her own brilliance.

‘Gib?’

The other two stared at Phoebe’s outraged tone. ‘I never knew you could do such a good Lady Bracknell impression!’ said Bella, diverted.

Phoebe shot her a look. ‘I’m not asking Gib!’

‘Why not? You’ve got to admit, he’s incredibly attractive.’

‘He’s not that special,’ she protested, unwilling to admit anything of the kind.

‘Oh, come on, Phoebe!’ Kate rolled her eyes in disbelief. ‘He’s gorgeous, and you know it!’

Phoebe’s mouth set in a stubborn line. ‘He’s too pleased with himself,’ she said, ‘and I’m sure he must wear contact lenses. Nobody has eyes that blue!’

‘Don’t be silly, of course they’re real,’ said Kate. ‘You’re not doing much of a job of not finding him attractive if the only thing you can think of to say is that his eyes are too blue!’

‘I can see that he’s quite good-looking,’ Phoebe allowed grudgingly. ‘I just think he would be more attractive if he didn’t know it.’

Kate shook her head. ‘I don’t understand why you don’t like him,’ she said, puzzled. ‘I think he’s great. He’s good fun, he’s easy to talk to, he does his bit around the house, and he doesn’t roll his eyes at the mess or insist on correcting you if you say it’s about five hundred miles to somewhere when in fact he knows it’s four hundred and ninety-seven.’

‘Well, don’t you think that’s a bit fishy?’ countered Phoebe. ‘He’s just a little too perfect, if you ask me. Why hasn’t he got a girlfriend if he’s that wonderful?’

‘Maybe he’s gay,’ said Bella dubiously.

‘He’s definitely not that.’ Phoebe’s voice held a tart edge as she thought of the way Gib flirted with everyone from the plump checkout woman at the supermarket, to the elderly lady who lived next door and the newsagent’s shy wife. Flirtation obviously came as naturally as breathing to him, an automatic response to any female that crossed his path.

Except her, of course. He never flirted with her.

‘I’d prefer him if he was,’ she said.

‘I don’t think he’s gay either,’ said Kate. ‘Maybe he’s got a broken heart like the rest of us,’ she added with a sigh.

‘He’s doing a good job of concealing it, then,’ said Phoebe, unconvinced. ‘He’s always smiling, even when he’s not.’

They blinked at her curiously. ‘What?’

‘You know.’ Too late, she heard how obscure she sounded.

‘No.’

‘Yes, you do,’ she insisted, a little embarrassed now. ‘Even when he’s got a perfectly straight face, you get the feeling he’s laughing at you.’

‘Phoebe, it’s called having a sense of humour,’ said Bella as if explaining to a child. ‘And how many men do we know who need one of those? If only they were all like Gib, life would be a lot easier!’

Phoebe was beginning to get frustrated. Her friends just didn’t seem to be able to understand how jittery Gib made her feel.

She picked morosely at the arm of her chair, trying to find the words to explain. ‘He’s just so vague about everything,’ was the best she could come up with. ‘We don’t really know anything about him, do we? I mean, what does he do all day? He talks about these unspecified projects of his, but as far as I can see he spends his entire time lounging around here.’

‘Well, he’s got a laptop and a mobile phone,’ Kate pointed out in an infuriatingly reasonable voice. ‘He can probably work just as effectively from here as going in to some office.’

‘He doesn’t look like he’s working to me. I’ve never met anyone as lazy!’

‘He’s relaxed. That’s a good sign.’

‘No one’s got the right to be that relaxed,’ grumbled Phoebe, determined not to be convinced.

‘Look, aren’t we getting from the point?’ Bella interrupted, chinking a teaspoon against her glass for their attention. ‘Say what you like, Phoebe, but the fact is that Kate’s right. Gib would be ideal. He looks good, he’s got the confidence to carry the whole thing off, and the best thing is that he’s actually living here, so if your mother or anyone rings and he answers phone, it would be dead convincing!’

‘Maybe, but—’

‘And I’m sure he would be willing to help you,’ Kate chipped in before Phoebe had a chance to think up any more objections. ‘You could always offer to pay him if that made you feel better. I get the impression he could do with some extra money and it would be a way of helping him out without hurting his pride.’

‘Oh, yes, let’s worry about Gib’s pride!’ said Phoebe sarcastically. ‘What about mine?’

‘Just think of it as a business arrangement,’ said Bella. ‘It’s all it would be, after all. You were prepared to go to an escort agency, and who knows what kind of psychopath you could end up with there? At least Gib would be a better option than that!’

Phoebe opened her mouth to point out that she hadn’t in fact got anywhere near agreeing to the idea of hiring an escort, but the sound of the front door banging made her stop.

Bella smiled triumphantly as if she had just won the argument. ‘Here’s Gib now,’ she said unnecessarily. ‘You can at least ask him, Phoebe.’

A few moments later, Gib himself breezed into the kitchen. As usual, he brought with him a surge of energy that swirled around the room as if a fresh wind had blown in with him, and as usual Phoebe found herself braced against the impact of his smile.

‘Hey, girls,’ he said and lifted a carrier bag in their direction. ‘I bought more tonic.’

‘You see!’ whispered Kate. ‘How can you say he’s not perfect?’

Phoebe pretended not to hear. Draining her glass, she began to get to her feet. She was not going to let Kate and Bella push her into this stupid idea. There was nothing wrong with going to Ben’s wedding on her own!

‘Gib, we were just talking about you,’ said Bella.

‘Oh?’ Gib turned from the fridge where he was stacking the bottles of tonic.

‘Phoebe’s got something to ask you.’

Jerking upright, Phoebe glared at her friend. ‘Bel-la,’ she said warningly.

‘Look Phoebe, you’ve been going on and on about how much you’re dreading this wedding,’ Bella said in a firm voice. ‘You were worried about your pride. Well, here’s a way to get through it with your pride intact. What’s the harm in at least asking Gib?’

Gib looked from one to the other. ‘Ask me what?’

‘Come on, Kate, we’ll let Phoebe ask him herself,’ said Bella, getting up. ‘We’ll leave you two alone, and then she can tell you it’s all our fault,’ she added kindly to Gib, who raised an amused eyebrow and turned to Phoebe with an enquiring look.

She put up her chin. ‘I don’t want to ask you anything,’ she said bravely, but Kate and Bella had already whisked out of the door, and she couldn’t follow them because Gib was standing in front of it, his blue eyes alight with that disturbing laughter that never failed to send the air leaking out of her lungs.

‘Yes,’ he said.

Phoebe looked blankly at him. ‘Yes, what?’

‘Yes, I’ll do whatever it is you want me to do.’

‘But you don’t know what it is yet!’

‘Is it illegal?’

‘Of course not!’

‘Immoral?’

‘No!’

Gib shrugged. ‘Then why would I refuse?’

To her chagrin, Phoebe realised she had been manoeuvred into beginning to talk about Kate and Bella’s idea with Gib, exactly the thing she hadn’t wanted to happen! But she could hardly walk out in mid-conversation.

‘Because it’s embarrassing,’ she muttered.

‘For you or for me?’

‘For both of us.’

‘This is beginning to sound like fun!’

Gib strolled over towards her, and Phoebe found herself backing down into her chair once more. ‘Come on,’ he said encouragingly, sitting on the arm of the sofa. ‘You’ve got this far, so you might as well tell me the worst!’

He wasn’t anywhere near her, but Phoebe was desperately aware of him. She wished he’d go back to the fridge. If only he wasn’t so … so overwhelming.

‘It was just a silly idea,’ she mumbled.

‘All the best ideas are silly to start with,’ said Gib. ‘If they were sensible, somebody else would have thought of them before.’

‘Well, this one really is silly,’ she told him almost belligerently.

He smiled. ‘Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?’

Phoebe tore her eyes away from the warm blue eyes and scowled at the mess on the table.

‘All right,’ she said, giving in. ‘I need a lover.’

There was a tiny silence. ‘In that case, I’m glad I said yes,’ said Gib, and although she wasn’t looking at him, she could hear him smiling and the colour deepened in her cheeks.

‘Not a real one! Don’t be stupid,’ she snapped.

‘Right,’ he said, humouring her.

‘The thing is …’ Somehow Phoebe stumbled through the whole sorry saga of Ben’s wedding and her attempts to keep everyone in the family happy. ‘So we were wondering—it was Kate’s idea, I’d never have thought of it—and it’s entirely up to you, of course—you can say no, it won’t be a problem at all….’

She floundered to a halt, lost in a morass of sentences, and looked a little helplessly at Gib, who was studying her with a disconcerting half-smile.

‘Well, I’ve already said yes, so I’m sure it won’t be a problem,’ he agreed, ‘but I’m still not entirely clear what it is you want me to do, other than not be a real lover.’

Wasn’t it obvious? Phoebe was hating this. If she had to spell it out for him, she would, but she couldn’t help resenting Gib for not being able to make immediate sense of her incoherent ramblings.

‘OK.’ She drew a breath. ‘I wondered if you’d be interested in earning some extra cash, that’s all.’

Gib’s brows rose. ‘You’re offering me a job?’ he said blankly.

‘We had the impression that things weren’t very easy for you at moment,’ said Phoebe stiffly, borrowing Kate’s comment. ‘In the circumstances, I’d be prepared to pay you to come to wedding with me and pretend … well, pretend … ‘

‘That I’m in love with you?’ he finished for her, a smile lurking around his mouth, and she let out a breath that she hadn’t been aware until then that she had been holding.

‘Yes.’

His lips twitched. ‘You want me to be a male escort?’

‘Yes.’

There, it was out. Phoebe sat back, oddly relieved. Maybe Kate and Bella were right. He could only say no, and when it came down to it, all she had done was offer him a chance to earn some extra money. What was so embarrassing about that?

‘Well, I’ve never been offered a job like that before!’ Gib shook his head, but he was grinning.

‘It would be just a job, of course,’ said Phoebe hastily. ‘There wouldn’t be any … any of the reason why you might normally pay for a male escort.’ She could feel the treacherous colour creeping back up into her cheeks. So much for not being embarrassed! ‘I’d be paying you to be an actor, that’s all.’

Gib didn’t answer immediately. ‘You know, Phoebe, you don’t need to pay me,’ he said carefully at last. ‘We’re friends, aren’t we? If Josh was sitting here now, you wouldn’t even think of offering him money to help you, would you?’

It was true, of course. Phoebe wished that she had been able to ask Josh. He was so nice and reliable, he would have been ideal, but unfortunately her parents had already met him and knew about his friendship with Bella. They would never believe that she had come between those two.

Gib wasn’t like Josh. He wasn’t calm and he wasn’t safe. He didn’t make her feel comfortable the way Josh did. Phoebe couldn’t think of him as a friend like Josh when all her nerves jangled and twitched the moment he walked into the room. Friends were people you could relax and be yourself with, not people who made you feel as if the earth was unsteady beneath your feet.

‘I’d feel more comfortable if we both thought of this as a financial transaction,’ she said firmly. ‘That way I’ll be able to ask you to do things I wouldn’t want to ask if you were just doing me a favour.’

‘Like what?’

‘Like …’ Phoebe didn’t really want to get into what she might have to ask him to do to convince her family they really were in love. ‘Well, I can’t think of anything right now,’ she prevaricated, ‘but there’s sure to be something. Anyway, it’s already asking a lot for you to give up a whole day to spend it at a wedding with a load of people you don’t know.’

‘I’ll know you,’ Gib pointed out, unperturbed by the prospect.

‘You’ll have to get to know me a lot better before you can face an interrogation by my mother!’ she warned him.

Gib’s mouth quirked in a smile. ‘I’ll look forward to it.’

There was an odd little silence.

That was the thing about Gib, Phoebe thought edgily. He would say something perfectly innocuous like that, and suddenly the whole atmosphere had changed without you realising how or why it had happened.

She cleared her throat and strove for a businesslike tone. ‘Well, as I say, I’d prefer to keep it a business arrangement. I’ll pay you for your time, and also for the hire of a suit and anything else you might need.’

Her face was scarlet by this stage. Gib hesitated. The last thing he wanted was to take money from Phoebe, but he could see what it had cost her to ask him to help her. Paying him was a way of saving her pride, and if he argued with her, it would only prolong her embarrassment. It wasn’t as if he had to do anything with the money, and he could always find a way to give it back to her later.

Meanwhile, here was the perfect opportunity to prove to all those Doubting Thomases like Mallory and Josh that he was just as good a friend as the next person. Phoebe needed him, and he wouldn’t let her down. He would be doing this for her.

The fact that helping her would mean spending a day in close proximity was purely incidental. If he had to touch her, maybe even kiss her, as part of the pretence, well, that was hardly his fault, Gib reasoned virtuously. It was just a lucky side effect of being a friend, and Josh wouldn’t be able to claim that he had broken the terms of their bet.

‘OK, if that’s what you want,’ he said briskly, deciding that it would make things much easier for her if he played along with the idea that he needed the money. At least that way, she could think that she was doing him a favour too. ‘You’re the boss. How much were you thinking of paying me?’

‘Well, I don’t really know …’ Phoebe was a bit taken aback by his abrupt volte-face. ‘I suppose I could ring an agency and find out how much one of their escorts would cost,’ she offered awkwardly, conscious of a quite unfair sense of disappointment that he had turned out to be interested in the money after all. He must need some extra cash very badly. ‘I could pay you the same.’

‘It’s a deal,’ said Gib and leant forward to offer his hand to seal the bargain.

Phoebe looked at it, stupidly reluctant to put hers into it, but she couldn’t think of a good reason to refuse, and it would only look rude if she ignored it. So instead she put her hand out, bracing herself against the cool strength of his grasp and the tingling warmth of his palm pressed against hers.

‘Right.’ Gib released her just as she began to think that it didn’t feel that bad after all. He was abruptly all business. ‘Tell me again exactly what it is you want me to do.’

‘I’m going to tell my mother that I’ve met someone special,’ said Phoebe, marvelling at how easily she had been swept along into the whole idea. Hadn’t she decided only a few minutes ago that she wanted nothing to do with it? Oh, well, she might as well go with the flow. Resisting the combined will of Bella, Kate and Gib would be just too exhausting.

‘If I know Mum, she’ll be straight on the phone to Penelope—that’s Ben’s mother—and you can bet your bottom dollar that an invitation to the wedding will be dropping through the door for you five minutes later.’

She hesitated. ‘The thing is, if my mother rings up in the meantime, and you answer the phone for some reason, you’ll have to be prepared to be cross-examined by her. Would you mind that?’

‘That’s what you’re paying me for,’ said Gib cheerfully.

Phoebe knew that she ought to be reassured by his down-to-earth approach, but somehow the fact that he was treating it as a job, just as she had insisted he should, was a bit disconcerting.

‘Yes … well …’ she said, somewhat at a loss. ‘Then, obviously, there’s the wedding itself. That’s when the real pretence comes in.’

‘The pretending to be in love with you?’

‘That, too, but I was thinking more of you pretending to have a proper job or something. After all, if I’m going to make up a lover, I might as well make up an incredibly successful one.’

‘Ah,’ said Gib, looking down at himself, his would-be regretful expression marred by the twitch of his lips. ‘That might be more of a problem,’ he sighed. ‘I can see why it would be good for you to have a wealthy and successful lover, but do you think I’d be able to carry off an image like that?’

Phoebe surveyed him with a critical eye. He was lounging on the arm of the sofa, wearing jeans and a battered leather jacket over a plain white T-shirt that stretched across his broad chest. Laughter lines fanned his eyes and creased his cheeks, and the blue, blue eyes danced. He looked vibrant and physical and—OK, Kate—attractive, and absolutely nothing like a businessman.

Her mouth turned down at the corners. ‘Maybe if you cut your hair,’ she suggested doubtfully, ‘and generally brush up a bit. A suit would make a difference, too. You’d better hire one before the wedding.’

‘It’s going to be a smart wedding, then?’ asked Gib, not unduly put out by her critical appraisal.

‘Yes,’ said Phoebe without enthusiasm. ‘The wedding party is taking over an entire castle. It’s been turned into a hotel, where all the rooms have panelling and four-poster beds, you know the kind of thing.’

‘Aren’t they getting married in a church?’

‘No, the ceremony is at the castle as well, so that everyone moves straight on to the reception in the gardens. And then close friends and family are staying on for dinner and dancing in the evening. This will be a more intimate affair, according to my mother, and they’ve booked all the rooms in the castle, so I’ve got to get through all of that and breakfast next morning, as if the wedding itself wasn’t going to be bad enough,’ she finished glumly.

Gib raised an eyebrow. ‘So we’ll be spending the night?’

‘I’ll have to, but we can think of some excuse for you. I’ll tell them you have to get back that evening because you’ve got a meeting the next day.’

‘On a Sunday?’

‘Not everyone has your relaxed attitude to work,’ Phoebe retorted. ‘It’s a well-known fact that all successful businessmen are workaholics! I don’t think anyone would be surprised to hear that you had a weekend meeting.’

‘Right, well, I’ll bow to your superior knowledge on that one,’ said Gib. ‘What sort of businessman am I supposed to be, anyway, in case anyone asks?’

‘We hadn’t got that far,’ she admitted. ‘What would you like to be?’

‘Perhaps I could say that I’m in … oh, I don’t know …’ He scratched his chin thoughtfully. ‘What about banking?’

Phoebe looked doubtful. ‘You don’t think you should pretend to be something less … ambitious?’ she said carefully.

‘What do you mean?’ Gib pretended to be affronted. ‘You don’t think I look like a banker?’

‘Not really.’

‘Hey, I can put on a suit and poker up with the best of them!’ he reassured her, but Phoebe was unconvinced.

‘I don’t know that it’s such a good idea,’ she said. ‘Ben works for one of those big international tax consultancy firms, and the reception will be choc-a-bloc with City types. You know what men are like about sniffing out each other’s status. If you say you’re in banking they’re bound to ask who you work for, what kind of bonuses you earn and how many Ferraris you’ve got sitting in your garage, and what are you going to say then?’

‘I’ll say I’ve been working for some American bank,’ said Gib easily. ‘Relax, it’ll be fine.’

Phoebe wasn’t so sure, but she told herself that she could always tell her mother that he had come down with an acute case of food poisoning if necessary and go on her own as she’d planned.

‘When is this wedding?’ he asked, still in businesslike mode.

‘In three weeks.’

‘That’s fine then,’ he said. ‘I’ll have plenty of time to prepare my role.’

He seemed so casual about the whole thing, as if women asked him to pretend to be in love with them every day of the week. Phoebe chewed her thumb nervously.

‘Are you sure you don’t mind doing this?’ she asked, abruptly attacked by doubts.

‘Why would I mind?’ said Gib. ‘It’s a chance to earn some extra cash and drink champagne at someone else’s expense. It’ll be fun.’

It wasn’t Phoebe’s idea of fun. She felt tense at the mere thought of carrying off the deception. ‘Frankly, at the moment sticking pins in my eyeballs seems like more fun,’ she said.

‘Then don’t do it.’

Phoebe thought about turning up at the wedding on her own, and how awkward it would be for her family and for Ben’s. ‘No, I want to do it,’ she said, making up her mind. ‘It will make everyone happy if they see that I seem to have found someone else.’

‘Everyone except you,’ Gib pointed out.

She looked at the cat curled up on the sofa. ‘I’ve got used to not being happy since Ben left,’ she said bleakly.

There was a pause. ‘You’re still in love with him,’ said Gib, sounding oddly flat.

Phoebe kept her eyes on the cat. ‘Ben’s part of my life,’ she answered him after a moment. ‘We were toddlers together. I planned to marry him when I was four, and I never wanted anyone else. I suppose I took it for granted that he would always be there for me, and now I can’t get used to the fact that he isn’t.’

In spite of herself, her voice wobbled treacherously, and Gib saw her lift her chin to an unconsciously gallant tilt. ‘I know Ben didn’t want to hurt me but I’ve accepted the fact that he loves Lisa, not me. Now I just want him to be happy, and if that means pretending to be in love with someone else at his wedding, that’s what I’ll do.’

Most of the women Gib had known would have given in to bitterness or rage at their disappointed dreams, but not Phoebe. He wanted to tell her how brave he thought she was, but he was afraid that she would be mortified if she thought that he had glimpsed her distress.

‘If that’s what you want,’ he said, getting to his feet instead, ‘I’m happy to do my bit to help. I won’t let you down.’

Caught unawares by the sincerity in his voice, Phoebe glanced at him and saw that the blue eyes were warm with sympathy, almost as if he could see the painful lump of unshed tears in her throat. ‘Thank you,’ she said with difficulty.

‘Hey, no problem.’

Murmuring something about a shower, he left her alone with the cat.

Phoebe looked after him with a curious expression. ‘What do you think about that?’ she asked the cat, who deigned to open one yellow eye in case food was in the offing. ‘Who would have thought Gib would be that tactful?’

The cat yawned hugely, uninterested. Phoebe reran the conversation with Gib in her mind. He had been surprisingly understanding. He hadn’t probed for details about her break up with Ben or made fun of her predicament, and now her resistance to asking him to help her was beginning to seem a bit churlish.

She wasn’t sure how he was going to carry off being a banker, but otherwise Kate was right, he was the perfect person to help her. He had been nice about it, too. Phoebe watched the cat stretching and remembered how Gib had smiled. I’m glad I said yes, he had said when she told him that she needed a lover. I’ll look forward to it.

The memory sent an odd feeling snaking down her spine, and she got abruptly to her feet. Anticipating the chance of being fed, the cat jumped down and headed purposefully to its bowl, where it sat and fixed Phoebe with faintly menacing yellow eyes.

‘Oh, all right,’ she sighed, fully aware that any movement towards the fridge would mean her ankles passing well within biting range. It went against the grain to give in but she cravenly shook some biscuits into its bowl. It was obviously her night for giving in.

What would it be like, spending the whole day with Gib? Phoebe was uneasily conscious of a tremble of anticipation uncurling somewhere deep inside her at the prospect. Ridiculous, of course. OK, so he had been nicer than expected, and at lot less irritating than usual, but that was no reason to forget that the arrangement they had made was a strictly businesslike one.

‘Don’t worry, I’m not going to do anything silly,’ Phoebe informed the cat as if it had objected. ‘There’s no question of me getting involved with Gib.’

And there wasn’t, she reassured herself. Gib wasn’t the sort of man sensible girls like her fell in love with. He might be fun for a while, but he would move on eventually, and it would hurt. When Phoebe thought about the pain of the past year since Ben had left, she knew that she wasn’t prepared to risk that again. If she did ever let herself fall in love again, she would have to be very, very sure that it would be for ever, and Gib just wasn’t a for ever kind of guy.

‘No, I’m grateful to him for helping me out,’ Phoebe told the cat firmly, ‘but that’s all.’