A Convenient Groom. Darcy Maguire

from her. ‘Maybe you could get back there organised so I can stop sitting around and I can start doing my job.’ And he strode away from her.

      Riana gritted her teeth. As if she cared that she’d blurted out her most personal thoughts to a complete stranger and he’d walked away on her. Fine. Absolutely fine. He was the one who had stopped to chat in the first place…It wasn’t as if it mattered who knew that Stuart was going to propose to her tonight. Tomorrow it would be in all the papers.

      Riana slipped out the back, her chest tight. Maggie had assured her she wasn’t needed at the six a.m. start the models would make to get organised with their make-up and hair, and she’d set out all the gowns days ago.

      What had gone wrong?

      The back room was in bedlam. Tall, lanky models stalked around, robes on, make-up and hair done to perfection.

      Riana couldn’t see there’d be a problem. The place was intact. The models all present and apparently accounted for. The gowns all hanging where she’d left them. ‘Maggie?’

      Maggie stuck her head out from one of the sewing rooms they were using as a changing-room. ‘Thank goodness you’re here. No one can agree who gets to wear what.’

      ‘That’s it? That’s what all the fuss is about? For this I’m being harassed by Joe Henderson and his inflated self-importance?’

      Maggie shrugged sheepishly. ‘He’s the best in the business.’

      ‘Which is why I’m going to put a great big smile on my face and not wrap my hands around his neck.’ Riana grabbed the first lanky model and a gown off the rack. ‘This, for you. Quickly.’

      The woman dropped her robe and stepped into the gown. Riana adjusted the fit of the bodice, turned her around and laced up the back of the gown.

      ‘Maggie, hand me the tiara with the medium veil.’

      Riana took the tiara from Maggie and stood on tiptoe. She secured the tiara and veil to the woman’s hair and gave her a gentle shove in the back. ‘Right. Go.’

      ‘He’s a genius, that Joe, you know,’ Maggie said, snaring another model by the arm and shoving her towards Riana. ‘Have you seen his work?’

      ‘Yes.’ Riana took another gown off the rack. ‘But the man’s a monster. An arrogant self-absorbed, self-inflated—’

      The model dropped her robe. ‘Joe does demand a lot from everyone around him,’ she said softly. ‘But he’s great, once you’ve got to know him.’

      ‘That’s good to know.’ Riana zipped up the back of the dress and added a long veil, rolling her eyes at Maggie. The man probably knew every model on the continent, intimately.

      ‘No truly, he helped out one of the young models who had got into drugs,’ she said reverently. ‘He’s so nice. Always there for us all, you know.’

      Riana stared at the tall, lithe blonde. She didn’t want to hear how nice the guy was. She didn’t care. She had Stuart, and Stuart was head over heels about her.

      ‘He cares, that’s all I’m saying, I guess.’ The woman rotated slowly as Riana adjusted the fall of the skirts. ‘Joe got her into rehab. And back with her family. They’d had a falling out over her modelling instead of going to university.’

      ‘Thanks for sharing.’ Riana managed a smile and pushed the model towards the front curtain. She didn’t want to think about the guy a second more than necessary, especially how exactly all the models knew him so well. ‘Next.’

      ‘He is sort of cute in a rugged sort of way.’ Maggie handed her a long, flowing veil.

      She cringed. ‘I’ve got Stuart.’ And the last thing she needed was a crush on Joe, no matter what he made her body feel.

      Maggie took a gown from the rack. ‘Have you seen Stuart?’

      Riana helped the next model into the gown, biting her lip. ‘No, but he’s so busy at work at the moment.’

      Maggie zipped the gown up and fluffed up the flowing satin. ‘Bummer.’

      ‘Yes, I know. Just when I’m thinking that it’s time we get more serious and spend more time together…But his work is very important.’ Riana fixed the veil in place.

      Maggie put her hands on her hips. ‘He’s an economist.’

      Riana shrugged. ‘Yes. Well, he takes the economy very seriously.’

      ‘U-huh.’

      Riana turned her attention to adjusting the fit of the strapless bodice of the satin gown. She knew Maggie’s view of Stuart intimately. So, she didn’t like him that much. It didn’t matter. She wasn’t going to be the one marrying him. Riana was. Mrs Riana Brooks had such a nice ring to it.

      And she was sick of being alone, sick of the dating games, the bad kissers, the sleazy hands, the selfish needs of men out there, and of frozen dinners for one.

      She was getting married. This year. She was sure of it. And Stuart Brooks was the man.

      The D’Amore was all they said it was. From the time her oldest sister had announced her engagement, Riana had dreamt of this night.

      Everyone knew the French restaurant was a place to take a girl to let her know how serious the relationship was. Her older sister, Tara, used it all the time for her proposal clients.

      Riana shivered with anticipation and unabashed excitement. Stuart was seriously into her.

      Would he push for a spring wedding? Would they honeymoon in Europe? Move in together in his apartment in the city or buy a house in the northern suburbs?

      It was about time a guy fell totally in love with her. Wanted her to marry him. Live happily ever after.

      Classical music drifted through the room. She couldn’t help but smile as she sauntered into the bar, walking slowly, conscious of the impression Stuart would have of her when he saw her.

      The kick-ass red dress she’d made for herself after her older sister’s wedding clung to her curves, accentuating her shape, leaving no doubt that she was serious in her hunt for the perfect partner. The thin straps and plunging neckline gave the message of her simple elegance, and the thin necklace with a small golden heart spoke a thousand words as to what she wanted from him.

      Stuart was at the bar, his hand gripped tightly around a double Scotch…or was it a triple?

      ‘Honey?’ She placed her hand on his shoulder and leaned over and kissed him. His breath was heavy with alcohol. How many drinks had he had?

      ‘Riana, darling.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘You’re late.’

      ‘I’m always late.’ She smiled.

      He waved a finger at her, frowning. ‘You know that I don’t like it when I’m kept waiting.’ He took her arm, his sober expression giving nothing away. ‘Shall we eat then?’

      She nodded. He didn’t appear to be in the best of moods, but that could just be an act so she’d be more surprised when he popped the question. ‘I hear the food here is wonderful,’ she offered hopefully.

      Stuart grunted and steered her to the entrance to the dining room.

      The maître d’ seated them near the back of the crowded restaurant. The table was small, draped with a pearl-white lace tablecloth with shining cutlery laid out, and a vase of roses nestled in the middle.

      Stuart dropped into his seat, running his eyes over her body as she sank into her own seat. ‘I have something important to ask you.’

      Riana’s breath caught in her throat. Already? She nodded, her heart pounding in her chest.

      She could see it now. A beautiful apartment on the north side with views to the harbour, a man by her side sharing her life, a fluffy little dog and maybe, and in time, a child