Читать книгу It Started With... Collection - Miranda Lee - Страница 12

WHEN Rachel saw Justin’s sudden scowl she stopped walking towards him. She hadn’t minded his surprise on first seeing her dressed as she was. Surprise was fair enough. But a scowl was another matter entirely.

‘I…I think I’d better go back and find something else to put on,’ she said. ‘This just isn’t appropriate, is it?’

‘Certainly not!’ he exclaimed, then astonished her by laughing. ‘No, no, that’s not what I meant. I meant don’t go back inside and change. You look perfectly fine as you are. Heavens, Rachel, you’re wearing more clothes than most girls wear walking down the street up here. Here, sit down and get some of this wine into you.’ He swept up a bottle of white wine from the portable cooler standing by his chair and poured her a glass.

‘I hope you like Chablis,’ he said as he placed the glass on the white outdoor table and pushed it across to where she was settling herself in one of the matching white chairs.

‘Yes, I do. Thank you.’ Rachel was grateful for the drink, but more grateful to be sitting down, and no longer on show. That short walk along the balcony had felt like a million miles. Talk about embarrassing!

The whole situation was embarrassing. Fancy forgetting to bring any underwear.

She picked up the wine glass, cradled it in both her hands to stop them shaking and took a sip. ‘Oh, yes,’ she sighed. ‘This is good.’

‘It ought to be,’ Justin said with a smile in his voice. ‘It cost a small fortune. But no sweat. Everything’s on the house, according to Guy. I aim to take full advantage of it. And so should you. Which gives me an idea. Wait here.’

He put down his wine and levered himself up from the chair. ‘Won’t be long,’ he said, and hurried back inside through the sliding glass doors, leaving Rachel to do a spot of staring of her own.

It was strange seeing her boss in a bright top, casual shorts and bare feet. She’d always known he sported a nice shape and tan, but she’d never seen so much of it before. Even his bare feet were brown, which made her wonder what a man who wore shoes and socks all week did to achieve that. Lie in one of those sunbeds at the gym? Or swim a lot in an outdoor pool? If so, where? She knew he lived in a high-rise apartment in an exclusive complex down on the harbour foreshore at Kirribilli, so it probably sported a pool. Exclusive ones usually did.

‘I thought as much,’ Justin was saying as he returned through the open glass doors, carrying an open black leather folder. ‘They do have a beauty salon in this place.’

‘A…a beauty salon?’ Rachel repeated, not sure what Justin was getting at.

‘Yes. Seeing you wearing that gorgeous green and with your hair down has shown me, Rachel Witherspoon, that you have been hiding your light under a bushel. I don’t know if anyone has ever told you before but black does nothing for you, and neither does the way you wear your hair to work. You also have a damned good figure, which your working wardrobe doesn’t show to advantage. With a different hairstyle, some make-up and the right clothes, Rachel, you could look more than good. You could look great.’

‘But…’

‘But what?’

‘But I thought you didn’t want me looking great, especially at work.’

‘What?’

‘Your mother told me all about your previous PA long before you ever did.’

He grimaced. ‘Oh, God, she didn’t, did she?’

‘Afraid so.’

He frowned over at her. ‘So you deliberately made yourself look like a plain Jane to get the job.’

Not really, an amazed Rachel was thinking. She’d just come au naturel. She was a plain Jane. But she wasn’t about to say so. She rather liked the thought that Justin believed she’d been down-playing a whole host of hidden attractions.

‘Well…’ she hedged, not sure what to say at this juncture.

‘Oh, Rachel, Rachel, you didn’t have to do that. I’d have given you the job, anyway, because I saw right from the start that you were nothing like that other girl. It wasn’t just the way she dressed, you know, but the way she acted. Like some oversexed vamp all the time. She drove me insane.’

‘So you wouldn’t mind if I did myself up a bit for work?’

‘Why should I mind?’

‘I was worried that if I suddenly came into the office with a new hairdo and a new wardrobe you might think I was…um…’

‘Tarting yourself up for me?’

‘Yes,’ she said sheepishly.

He laughed. ‘I would never think that of you. Silly Rachel.’

Rachel tried not to be offended. But she was, all the same. Yes, silly, silly Rachel.

‘Which brings me right back to my original suggestion,’ he went on. ‘Now, tomorrow I want you to go down to that beauty salon and get the works. Facial, massage, pedicure, manicure, waxing, hair, make-up. The lot. It says here they do all that.’

‘That seems excessive.’ Even for me, she thought ruefully.

‘No, it’s not. It’s necessary.’

‘Oh, thank you very much,’ came the waspish comment.

‘Now, now, this is no time for over-sensitivity, Rachel. The truth is you’ve let yourself get into bad habits with this plain-Jane nonsense. I can understand that you might not have bothered with your appearance much when you were at home all the time, but I’ll bet there was a time when you went to a lot of trouble with your hair and make-up and clothes.’

‘We-ll…’

‘Well?’ he probed forcefully.

‘I always suspected I didn’t become a finalist in the Secretary of the Year competition on my office skills alone,’ she said drily.

‘I don’t doubt it. I’ll bet you were a looker back then.’

‘I was…attractive.’

‘And you never wore black.’

‘Not often.’

‘How did you wear your hair?’

‘Down,’ she admitted. ‘With auburn highlights.’

‘No wonder people from your past didn’t recognise you today. But, come tomorrow night, Eric the Mongrel will recognise you all right.’

‘Eric the Mongrel?’ she repeated on a gasp.

‘Yeah. That’s what I’ve nicknamed him. Do you like it?’

‘Oh, dear. I love it.’

‘So you’ll do it? Come to the dinner with me?’

Rachel swallowed. It would take every bit of courage she owned to face Eric and that woman once more, even if she was dolled up to the nines. But, by God, she would!

‘Yes,’ she said, and Justin beamed.

‘Fantastic. Here. A toast is in order.’

He held his glass out towards her and she clicked it with hers.

‘To the comeuppance of Eric the Mongrel,’ Justin pronounced.

Rachel’s stomach flipped over. ‘Comeuppance?’

‘Oh, yes. Your ex deserves a few serves. And I’m just the man to deliver them!’

Justin paced up and down the living room, impatient for Rachel to make her appearance. She’d stayed hidden ever since her return from the beauty salon around five, letting herself in whilst he’d been in the bathroom, shaving. Now it was getting on for seven and he was dressed in his tux and ready to go down for the cocktail party that preceded the dinner at eight, an arrangement Rachel was well acquainted with. They’d discussed it last night.

So when seven came and went without her showing, Justin strode down the hallway and knocked firmly on her door.

‘Enough titivating in there, Rachel. It’s seven o’clock. Time you faced the music.’

‘Coming,’ she called back. But nervously, he thought.

The door opened and Justin’s blue eyes rounded.

‘Wow, Rachel. You don’t just look great. You look fabulous!’

Even that was an understatement. Where had his plain-Jane PA disappeared to? In her place stood a striking creature. No, a stunning creature. No, a striking, stunning, sexy creature.

Justin found himself standing there, just staring at her, trying to work out what she’d done to cause such a dramatic transformation.

It couldn’t just be her hair, though it was very different. And very red, he noted wryly. Cut in layers, it fell from an off-centre parting to her shoulders, framing her face and her eyes, her always lovely eyes, which now looked not just lovelier but larger. Was it the smoky eye make-up which had achieved this effect, or some other subtle change? Whatever, when he looked into her face he couldn’t stop looking at her eyes.

They looked back at him, heartbreakingly hesitant. She still didn’t know how beautiful she was. How amazingly, incredibly beautiful.

‘You honestly think so?’ she asked. ‘You don’t think I look…foolish?’

‘Foolish?’ he echoed in disbelief. ‘In what way could you possibly look foolish?’

‘My hair colour bothers me for starters. It’s too red,’ she said, touching it gingerly with her equally red nails.

‘Honey, you can carry off red now,’ he reassured softly.

‘Oh…’ She blushed prettily. ‘But don’t you think the make-up girl put too much foundation on me? I look like a ghost.’

‘No, you don’t. That’s the fashion. You know, that’s the slinkiest bridesmaid dress I think I’ve ever seen,’ he remarked, shaking his head as his gaze ran down the dress again.

It was a turquoise silk sheath, with thin shoulder straps and a fitted waist that showed off Rachel’s nice bustline and tiny waist to perfection. The skirt was straight and slender, and fell to mid-calf, with a slanted hem from which hung strands of crystal beads. Under this rather provocative feature her legs were bare, yet looked as smooth and shiny as they would if covered in the most expensive stockings. Her feet were shod in turquoise high heels, which matched the colour of the dress and had open toes, showing scarlet-painted toes. She smelled faintly of jasmine, possibly from a scented oil used to massage her skin. Her arms, Justin also noted as his eyes travelled back up to her face, looked as soft and shiny as her legs, probably the result of a full body massage today.

That beauty salon deserved a medal for the miracle it had managed in one short day. Not that he’d tell Rachel that. Despite her fab new look, her self-esteem was still wavering, which was a problem. Frankly, he’d been looking forward to exacting some well-deserved revenge on rotten exes tonight, and he needed Rachel’s full co-operation to achieve that end. Clearly, her confidence still needed some more boosting.

‘You look good enough to eat, Rachel. Eric the Mongrel is going to be jealous as sin when I walk into that dinner party with you on my arm.’

‘I think it’s Eric’s girlfriend who might be the jealous one,’ Rachel returned as she looked him up and down.

Justin was surprised but pleased that she thought him attractive. It would make his plan for the evening run smoother. ‘Yes, we’ve both cleaned up rather well, haven’t we? Come on, let’s go and put a cat amongst the pigeons. Do you have a bag?’

‘No, I don’t.’

‘No need. It’s not as though we have to go outside. There’ll be no wind to mess up your hair. If you feel in the need for any repairs during the night you can always whip up here in the lift. I’ll have my key card with me.’

‘Yes, I might need to do that after dinner. I always eat off my lipstick, though the make-up girl who did me up said this particular brand is renowned for not coming off. She said it’s the one the actresses use who make blue movies.’

Justin laughed and started shepherding Rachel towards the door. ‘That’s handy to know. So if you disappear under the tablecloth at any time tonight I’ll feel confident you’ll resurface still looking immaculate.’

When she looked scandalised Justin tut-tutted. ‘Come, now, Rachel, try to get with the spirit of this occasion. Remember, I’m not just your boss for tonight. I’m your lover as well.’

‘What?’ She ground to a startled halt.

Justin was taken aback. ‘I thought you understood that was part of my plan. Look, how else are we going to get up Eric the Mongrel’s nose, unless he thinks we’re a hot item? We want him to believe you haven’t missed him one bit, that you’ve survived his callous dumping; you did your duty to Lettie like the angel you are and are now moving on to a much more exciting and fulfilling life than you would have had married to him. You’re looking better than ever. You live in a fantastic town house at Turramurra. And you have this great new job, with a handsome, successful, besotted boss who can’t keep his hands off you.’

‘But…but I wouldn’t like having a boss like that!’

‘You might not, but it’s some men’s fantasy. And some women’s. Trust me on that. I would imagine it was right up Eric the Mongrel’s alley.’

‘You have to stop calling him that or I’m going to giggle all night.’

‘That’s all right. Giggling’s good.’

‘But it’s not me.’

‘It can be. You can be anything you want to be tonight. The point of this exercise is to show your ex that he doesn’t know you at all, if he ever did. And to make him want the new you like crazy!’

‘I…I don’t think…’

‘Now, thinking’s a definite no-no for this evening as well. Thinking rarely does anyone any good. Just follow my lead, honey, and everything will be fine.’

When he took her elbow he felt her resistance and stared down at her. She stared back up at him.

‘You called me honey.’

‘Well, I’m not going to call you Rachel all the time. Sounds far too platonic. OK, so honey’s out. How about the occasional darling? Yes, that’s much better. Much classier. Come along, Cinders, darling,’ Justin said with a rueful smile. ‘It’s time to go to the ball.’