Название | His Untamed Innocent |
---|---|
Автор произведения | Sara Craven |
Жанр | Контркультура |
Серия | Mills & Boon Modern |
Издательство | Контркультура |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781408919088 |
‘However, when I said a blunt and unequivocal “no” to her flattering invitation, she first of all didn’t believe me. Insisted that she knew I still wanted her.’
Marin’s throat tightened. ‘And did you?’
‘You’ve seen her,’ he said laconically. ‘And I’ve never professed to be made of stone. On the other hand, I’ve always known she could be big trouble. And her offer simply confirmed that.
‘So I stayed politely adamant, and she got angry. Said that no one turned her down a second time, and that she was going to make me sorry for the way I’d treated her.
‘That it would be quite easy for her to make Graham think that I was sniffing round her again, trying to restart our affair, and how would I like to see the Torchbearer Insurance account go up in smoke, as it were, as a consequence.’
He paused. ‘However, she also suggested that under the circumstances I might like to rethink the whole situation, and fast. See sense, as she put it, and remember how good we’d been together.’
He added, ‘Since then I’ve taken damned good care to be accompanied by a female companion at any events where she’s also a guest. And, although it hasn’t the slightest appeal for either of us, sweetheart, that’s why you’ll be accompanying me to Queens Barton next weekend.’
He took out his wallet as the cab drew up at its destination. ‘We’ll discuss the details over a nightcap. I presume you know how the coffee machine works?’
‘You’re—coming up with me?’ She couldn’t keep the dismay out of her voice. ‘That won’t be necessary.’
‘I think it probably will,’ he said. ‘Unless you remembered to put Lynne’s key in your bag before you left. No? I thought not.’
A mistake, she thought as she accompanied him mutinously up to the flat and waited resentfully for him to unlock the door, that she would try not to make again—like so many others.
‘I’m going to have a brandy with my coffee,’ he told her when they were back inside. ‘May I get you one?’
‘No,’ she said. ‘Thank you.’
‘And I like my coffee filtered, black and without sugar,’ he continued. ‘As the world now believes we have breakfast together on a regular basis, that’s something you’ll be expected to know, and need to remember.’
‘Then the world must be blind as well as stupid,’ Marin said curtly. Do you imagine any man would want a skinny, ugly little bitch like you? For a moment, her memory blazed with the pain of those words.
She forced herself to add calmly, ‘As for your ex-girlfriend, I’d bet good money that she wasn’t fooled for a moment.’
‘Then we’ll have to be rather more convincing next time.’
‘There isn’t going to be any next time.’ She glared at him. ‘There can’t. I’m sorry Mrs Halsay apparently finds you so irresistible, but this ludicrous bargain of ours was strictly a one-off. You had no right to accept an invitation to this house party without consulting me first. For all you know, I might have my own plans for next weekend.’
‘Forgive me,’ he said, the blue eyes merciless. ‘But as you gave me the impression that you had nowhere to live and very little money, it never occurred to me that your social diary would be bursting at the seams.’
‘It isn’t,’ she said. ‘ But that doesn’t mean I’m willing to spend two days out of my life pretending we’re in a relationship in order to keep your ex-mistress at bay.’
He said, on a note of polite enquiry, ‘And presumably you also wish to forego the two thousand pounds I’m prepared to pay you to do exactly that?’
When Marin could speak, she said, ‘You must be crazy.’
‘No,’ he said. ‘Merely totally determined.’
‘But your girlfriend will be over her virus by the weekend,’ she protested. ‘Surely you should be taking her?’
‘Not,’ he said, ‘when the invitation was quite definitely extended to you.’
He paused. ‘Now, I suggest you make that coffee, and when you come back we’ll talk about what’s really on your mind.’
He added softly, ‘Which of course will be the sleeping arrangements.’ And he smiled at her.
Chapter Three
MARIN HAD LEARNED to make coffee in all kinds of ways, for all kinds of people, using all kinds of equipment, so once in the kitchen she was able to switch easily to auto-pilot and begin her preparations without scaldings or spillages, however much she might be shaking inside. As she undoubtedly was.
As the tantalising aroma of the rich, Colombian blend began to fill the air, she arranged white porcelain cups and saucers on a beech tray then leaned against the marble counter top, staring into space.
Something else to add to the dossier on the minus side, she thought without pleasure. Jake Radley-Smith had turned out to be a mind reader.
But then it didn’t take too much perception to recognise all the implications of a weekend house-party in the country. Not when they’d been invited, and would presumably be treated as a couple.
He must have known that, she thought wildly, when he accepted the invitation. I suppose he imagined two thousand pounds would buy my compliance, but he’s wrong.
And if the prospect of being left to Diana Halsay’s tender mercies during the day while Jake was shut up with his host talking business chilled Marin’s blood, the thought that she’d almost certainly be expected to spend her nights with him was infinitely worse.
I don’t even want to contemplate that, she told herself. Or—my God—discuss it with him, either. I hoped he’d simply take no for an answer and opt for someone—anyone—else.
Because I’m not prepared to let myself be trapped into another situation that is none of my making, or made to appear as something I’m not. I—I can’t. Not again.
But it was becoming painfully and worryingly obvious that, in addition to the rest of his flaws, Jake Radley-Smith was not someone who cared to have his wishes opposed.
Drawing a deep breath, Marin put the coffee jug on the tray and carried it into the living room.
Jake was occupying one of the sofas, coat and tie discarded and his waistcoat unfastened along with the top buttons on his shirt. A cut glass goblet containing his brandy was on the pale wooden table in front of him, and he looked casual, relaxed and—as if she needed any reminder—very much at home.
Whereas she felt as if she was treading over broken glass.
She put the tray down on the table next to the brandy, poured the coffee then sat down opposite him, feet together and hands folded in her lap.
‘You look,’ he said softly, ‘as if you’re about to be interviewed for a job, and if it makes you feel better, we’ll play it that way. So let’s move straight to pay and conditions. I’m offering two thousand pounds for you to continue to play the role of my girlfriend as you did tonight, but this time from mid-afternoon on Friday next to some point after lunch on Sunday. That’s the deal on the table, and it won’t change.’
She said bitterly, ‘How simple you make it sound.’
‘Because, unlike you, I’m not looking for complications,’ he drawled.
‘But it is complicated,’ she said. ‘It has to be. If we go there together, they’ll think—that we are—together,’ she finished lamely.
‘In