Bridesmaid with Attitude. Christy McKellen

stay buried for long.’

      Although she’d somehow managed to keep her biggest secret buried all these years. She knew it was only a matter of time before it reared its troublesome head, though, and then she’d have some explaining to do.

      Not that she should be worrying about herself right now. This was about Lula and what needed fixing.

      He plucked the spanner out of the pocket of his combats and tossed it into the air, catching it, then tossing it again end to end as he spoke. ‘She’s been threatening to sell this place from under me for years if I don’t fall into line, and I’m guessing it’s all come to a head now because she’s recently split up with her second husband. She’s clearly bored with not having anyone to order around any more, so she’s decided to spend her time making my life hell instead.’

      Emily almost felt sorry for him as she noted the tension in his face. He looked tired—as if he hadn’t slept well.

      ‘Can’t you reason with her?’ she asked, more gently this time. ‘Ask her at least to wait until after Lula’s wedding?’

      ‘I tried. No dice.’

      ‘Is there anything I can do to persuade your mother to let Lula have her wedding here? If you think there is, just name it. I’ll do anything.’ She knew she was beginning to sound desperate, but there was no way she was just going to give in and walk away—not when she’d promised Lula she’d fix this. There was always a solution; sometimes you just had to think outside the box to find it.

      He stopped tossing the spanner and fixed her with a seriously unnerving expression. ‘Anything?’ he asked, raising both eyebrows.

      She took a breath, wondering what she was about to get herself into. ‘Yes.’

      ‘Then you’re going to have to fall in love with me.’

      Theo Berkeley watched in amusement as a range of expressions ran across the woman’s face—from surprise, to disbelief, to confusion and back again.

      She was quite something to look at: tall, with a curvy but well-toned body, and a head of long, blonde-tipped chocolate-brown curls. She also had the most striking eyes he’d ever seen. They looked golden in the meagre light trickling in through the workshop windows, and they glowed with the fiery determination that she’d repeatedly exhibited since walking in here.

      She was for real—he could tell.

      He’d met women like her before—one woman in particular from his past he’d rather not be reminded of had been very much like her—and it made him wary. So much so that when she’d made that move to touch him he’d instinctively snatched her hand away from his chest, as though it might burn him with the fever he felt flickering away at the edges of his memory.

      This woman was dangerous, pure and simple, but he had an idea that he could use that to his advantage if he was careful. He needed someone like her—someone who wouldn’t be afraid to stand up to his mother. Unlike the women he’d most recently dated. If he was going to make the crazy plan he’d been toying with for the last few minutes work, she needed to have the gumption and the initiative to be able to win over his fastidious mother.

      Judging by the way she’d stood up to him this woman clearly had those qualities in abundance, and it seemed like a gift from the gods that she’d landed here in his workshop right when he needed her. It was fate.

      Either that or he was being seriously punished for something.

      She finally seemed to pull herself together and put out a hand to lean back on the workbench behind her, dipping her head and giving him an amused look. ‘You’re kidding, right?’

      ‘Not kidding.’

      ‘Why would you need me to fall in love with you?’

      ‘I don’t, really, but in order to get my mother off my back and be allowed to run this estate as I see fit I need to be able to produce a girlfriend whom she believes is a viable option for future nuptials and the furthering of the family line.’

      She gave an exaggerated shudder at his crass analysis. ‘Why do you need a fake girlfriend? Haven’t you got the pick of a harem of women you can call on for just this purpose, My Lord?’

      He raised a laconic eyebrow. ‘Earls don’t tend to have harems—you’re confusing us with sheikhs.’

      ‘And you don’t have a real girlfriend to dangle under her nose?’ she asked.

      She was not rising to his sarcasm; which impressed him. Normally women would blush and stutter when he was in an irascible mood.

      He gave a terse shake of his head. ‘My life’s complicated right now. I’m trying to build up this business and pay my overheads here. I don’t need the added stress of a relationship.’

      She narrowed her eyes, clearly seeing where this was going. ‘But if you did have a girlfriend your mother would leave you alone and perhaps turn a blind eye to you holding wedding receptions here?’

      ‘She could probably be persuaded to let a good friend of my girlfriend hold her reception here. That she could just about deal with, I’m sure. In fact she’d probably jump at the idea. It would give her a sense of power and control over you, which she could utilise in the future. You’d be indebted to her. She could use that to her advantage.’

      She shook her head, her expression radiating disgust. ‘How is she able to have so much power over you?’

      ‘Because I’ve been disinherited and, according to my late father’s will she legally owns this place and can sell it from under me at any time if the whim takes her. It’s been her bargaining chip since my father died a few years ago. If I don’t fall in line with her grand plans she’ll take away my inheritance. I love this place. It’s been my home since the day I was born and I’m not giving it up that easily. I want to grow my business from here and also raise the funds to be able to renovate the house sympathetically.’

      ‘Seriously? That all sounds like something from the Dark Ages.’

      He shrugged. ‘She’s been trying to manipulate me my whole life.’

      ‘And you’re not the type of guy to give in to manipulation,’ she stated, giving him a wry smile.

      He crossed his arms. ‘I actively rebel against it.’

      Her expression became serious. ‘So, let me get this straight. You need to convince your mother that you’re not the closed-off loner she thinks you are so she’ll get off your back and let you live your life of happily single earldom in your mansion with only your tools for company?’

      He fought hard against the smile that played at the corners of his mouth. ‘Interesting choice of words, but in essence you’re right on the money. So I need a girlfriend who will satisfy my mother but who won’t expect anything to come from this. We’ll pretend to be madly in love with each other while she’s here visiting—which I’m hoping will only be for the next week or two—then, when she’s safely under the illusion that I’m well on the way to marital bliss and has agreed to give me full control over how the place is run, we’ll be able to call it quits. It’ll be a purely business relationship.’

      She widened her eyes. ‘Wow. Cold. I’m guessing lines like that haven’t had the desired effect on the women you’ve dated in the past?’

      ‘Not exactly, no. For some reason the women I’ve been involved with recently seem to want hearts and flowers from me, and as I’m sure you’ve probably guessed by now, I’m not that kind of guy.’

      She smiled. ‘I have. Because I’m not that kind of guy either.’

      He snorted. ‘Sounds like we’re meant for each other.’

      She looked away from him, crossing her arms and frowning as if she was thinking things over.

      ‘Surely this plan’s only going to work in