Hotly Bedded, Conveniently Wedded. Kate Hardy

her favourite,’ Alex said. ‘So. Food first or later?’

      She glanced at her watch and at the time on the ticket. ‘Better make it later. Unless you want to grab something from a fast-food place?’

      ‘I’d rather wait and have something decent.’

      ‘Later it is, then.’

      The tube was so crowded again that they didn’t get a chance to talk on the way over to Southwark. And the bar at the Globe was so crowded that they were forced to sit incredibly close together to have any chance of hearing each other speak.

      Odd.

      Alex was used to touching Isobel—giving her a hug hello and a kiss on the cheek when they said goodbye—but this was different. Now, he was aware of her in another way. Of the softness of her skin. Of the sweet scent of her perfume—a mixture of jasmine and vanilla and orange blossom. Of the shape of her mouth.

      And it shocked him how much he suddenly wanted to kiss her.

      ‘Alex?’

      ‘Sorry. It’s a bit noisy in here. I can barely hear you.’ Acting on an impulse he knew was going to land him in trouble, but he was unable to resist, he scooped her onto his lap.

      ‘Alex!’

      She was protesting—but she slid one arm round his neck to stop herself falling off his lap.

      ‘It’s easier to hear you if you talk straight into my ear,’ he said, his mouth millimetres from her own ear. ‘That way you don’t have to shout. And I don’t get backache from leaning down to you.’

      She cuffed him with her free hand. ‘That’s below the belt.’

      And maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea. Because the whisper of her breath against his ear sent a peculiar sensation down his spine. A feeling he really didn’t want to acknowledge.

      He took refuge in teasing. ‘I apologise… Shorty.’

      ‘Huh.’ She rolled her eyes.

      He knew she wasn’t upset with him; this was the kind of banter they’d always indulged in. The kind of banter that was safe because their friendship was deep and it had been practically lifelong.

      When she’d finished her glass of wine, he glanced at his watch. ‘We’d better find our seats.’

      ‘Sure.’ She slid off his lap, and Alex was shocked to discover he actually missed the warmth of her body against his.

      The production was fantastic. And as soon as Benedick spoke his ‘dear Lady Disdain’ line, Alex glanced at Isobel— to see her glancing straight back at him. He curled his fingers round hers, acknowledging that he knew what she was remembering. To his pleasure, she didn’t pull away. But all the way through the play, when Beatrice and Benedick were fencing verbally, he found himself thinking of himself and Isobel.

      ‘I do love nothing in the world so well as you. Is not that strange?’

      His fingers involuntarily tightened for a moment round hers.

      This was crazy.

      Of course he wasn’t in love with Isobel. She was his friend.

      But it didn’t alter the fact that he was holding her hand. Treating this like a date, when it wasn’t one at all.

      He needed to regain his composure.

      But for the life of him he couldn’t let her hand go.

      At the end of the play, he released her hand so they could clap. And his arm was only round her on the way out of the theatre so he could protect her from the crowds.

      At dinner afterwards, they chatted animatedly about the play until their meal arrived.

      ‘Next time we’ll have to take Saskia as well,’ he said. ‘And Mum—if she’s up to it.’

      ‘How is she?’ Isobel asked.

      ‘You know my mother. She almost never admits to feeling under the weather.’ He sighed. ‘This lupus thing… I worry about her.’

      Isobel reached across the table and squeezed his hand. ‘She’ll be fine, Alex. Saskia was telling me about it—I know they haven’t found a cure for lupus, yet, but they can keep it under control with medication.’

      ‘But it’s going to take a while for them to find the right treatment to help her.’ Alex grimaced. ‘I’ve read up on it. I was in Turkey when Helen rang me and told me—and although I came home straight away, a snatched weekend here and there isn’t enough. I need to be around a bit more. Living in the same country as my family would be a start.’ He smiled wryly. ‘I’m not planning to move back in with my parents, because I’m used to doing things my own way and I’d drive them crazy, not fitting in with their routines—but I want to do my bit. It’s not fair to leave everything to the girls. I’m the oldest, and our parents are my responsibility.’

      Isobel raised an eyebrow. ‘I think your parents would say they’re their own responsibility.’

      ‘Maybe.’ Alex frowned. ‘Mum’s putting a brave face on things but I know she hates it when I’m away so much, and she worries every time she turns on the news and hears of some kind of political unrest which might be somewhere near wherever I am at the time. It’s extra stress she doesn’t need.’

      ‘Alex, it’s not your fault she’s got lupus.’

      ‘No?’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘It’s stress-related.’

      ‘And my money’s on most of the stress being caused by her job. Saskia says she’s been feeling a lot better since she changed her hours and went part-time.’

      ‘Even so, it doesn’t help if she’s worried about me.’

      ‘She’ll be pleased about your new job, then,’ Isobel said.

      ‘Hey, I’m not quite arrogant enough to count my chickens— I know I’m in the running, but if they decide that my career to date makes me too much of a risk, that I’ll stay in the job for all of five minutes and then leave them in the lurch when I get a better offer…’ He shrugged. ‘Well, something else’ll turn up.’

      She frowned. ‘Alex, do you actually have to be married to make them think you’re settled, or would being engaged be enough?’

      He thought about it. ‘Engaged would probably be enough.’

      * * *

      Alex needed her. And of course she wanted to help him. He was too proud to ask her again, she knew, so there was only one thing she could do. ‘Alex. I want to help you. I really want you to get this job and be happy.’ She took a deep breath. If she got engaged to him, it wasn’t the same as being married, was it? It wasn’t the same as tying him down to someone who might not be able to give him what he wanted in life. ‘Look, if we get engaged—after you get the job we can quietly break off the engagement and go back to being how we are now.’ And because they weren’t getting married, she wouldn’t have to tell him the truth about herself—about the miscarriages. Everything would be just fine.

      ‘You’d get engaged to me?’

      ‘Until you get the job, yes. If it’d help.’

      She could see the relief in his eyes. ‘Thank you, Bel. I really appreciate this.’ He took her hand, raised it to his mouth and kissed her palm before folding her fingers over where his lips had touched her skin. ‘Any time I can return the favour, do something for you, you know I will.’

      ‘Hey. That’s what friends are for,’ she said, striving for lightness despite the fact that the touch of his mouth had sent desire zinging through her veins.

      Though his words made her heart ache. Yes, there was something