Read the book: «Six Australian Heroes»
Six Australian Heroes
The Man Every Woman Wants
Miranda Lee
The Australian’s Housekeeper Bride
Lindsay Armstrong
Outback Bachelor
Margaret Way
The Cattleman’s Adopted Family
Barbara Hannay
Outback Boss, City Bride
Jessica Hart
Surprise: Outback Proposal
Jennie Adams
www.millsandboon.co.uk
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Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
The Man Every Woman Wants
Excerpt
About the Author
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
EPILOGUE
The Australian’s Housekeeper Bride
About the Author
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
Outback Bachelor
About the Author
PROLOGUE
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
The Cattleman’s Adopted Family
About the Author
PROLOGUE
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
EPILOGUE
Outback Boss, City Bride
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
Surprise: Outback Proposal
About the Author
Dear Reader
Dedication
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
Endpages
Copyright
The Man Every Woman Wants
“Come here,” he commanded.
Where did she find the courage to walk almost naked towards him?
“Stop,” he commanded again, when she was within arm’s reach of him.
She stopped, her heartbeat momentarily suspended as she waited for him to reach out and touch her. When he did, a lightning rod of electricity zapped through her body, making her gasp. She teetered a little on her high heels.
She’d never felt so wicked. Or so wanton.
Her head literally spun. Was this the kind of thing he did with all his women? Stripped them not just of their clothes but of their conscience and their pride? No, no—that last bit wasn’t right. Her pride wasn’t at risk here. She didn’t feel in any way humiliated by the things he’d asked her to do. She’d seen the admiration flare in his eyes when he’d looked over her near naked body. Laura had felt perversely proud of herself at that moment—perhaps because she knew he’d looked upon more beautiful bodies than hers.
‘One night’s not going to be enough,’ he’d said.
Not enough for her either, she suspected.
About the Author
MIRANDA LEE is Australian, and lives near Sydney. Born and raised in the bush, she was boarding-school-educated, and briefly pursued a career in classical music before moving to Sydney and embracing the world of computers. Happily married, with three daughters, she began writing when family commitments kept her at home. She likes to create stories that are believable, modern, fast-paced and sexy. Her interests include meaty sagas, doing word puzzles, gambling and going to the movies.
CHAPTER ONE
RYAN Armstrong never mixed business with pleasure.
His was very much a case of once bitten, a zillion times shy. Not that the word ‘shy’ fitted Ryan’s confident and outgoing personality. So cross out ‘shy’ and put ‘wary’ instead.
Ryan was wary of the complications and consequences which came from mixing business and pleasure. Very wary.
When he’d been younger and not involved in the business world there’d been no need to resist temptation when it had come to the fairer sex. If he’d been attracted to a girl, he’d never stopped to think before his male hormones had sent him off in pursuit. He was usually successful in that pursuit, Mother Nature having endowed him with the sort of tall, broad-shouldered and extremely athletic body which women lusted after and which had seen him rise to become one of the world’s most successful and well-paid goalkeepers. From the ages of twenty-three to twenty-nine, during which he’d played international soccer for several European clubs, he’d had more girlfriends than he’d saved goals.
When injury had forced early retirement at the age of thirty, and he had set up his own sports-management company back in Sydney, Ryan unfortunately had not developed the good habit of either controlling or ignoring his sexual urges. So when one of his first female clients—who was very attractive as well as a great athlete—started flirting with Ryan, it was inevitable that they would end up in bed together. Given she was nearly thirty and totally dedicated to her sports career, Ryan never imagined that she would want anything more from him than a casual fling.
By the end of their second date, however, Ryan had seen that he’d made a huge mistake. The girl had constantly sent him text messages raving about his love-making abilities, then saying how much she was going to enjoy being his wife. When he’d tried to finish things—very tactfully, he’d thought—she had gone all out to destroy his business. She’d released confidential information to the papers, plus had tried to drag his name through the mud in every possible way.
Unfortunately, by then he’d deleted all those revealing messages and it had been a case of her word against his. He’d come out the winner in the end, but it had been a close call. Ryan shuddered whenever he thought how close he’d come to losing everything he’d worked for. His business had still suffered for a while, hence his rule about mixing business with pleasure.
These days, he only dated mature, sensible women who had absolutely nothing to do with the Win-Win Sports Management Agency. He steered well clear of female clients and employees. He even trod carefully when it came to any kind of close business-colleague. His current girlfriend was a public-relations executive from a firm whose services he never used. Erica was blonde, thirty-five years old, divorced, childless and ruthlessly ambitious.
Thankfully, she was no more interested in marriage than he was. Or falling in love, for that matter. She’d been there, done that and it hadn’t worked out. She suited Ryan’s needs admirably, being attractive, intelligent and sexy. Ryan had discovered over the last few years that driven career-girls were usually hot between the sheets—and not given to huge tantrums when he wanted to move on.
Ryan moved on every few months. Occasionally, a relationship would last a little longer, but usually not. Often they ended earlier, once or twice after only a few weeks. Ryan always opted out very quickly if he thought he was becoming involved with a potential problem. He’d reached an age—he would turn thirty-eight next birthday—by which most guys had given up their bachelor days in favour of marriage and a family. He’d seen it happen time and time again. All his male friends were now married, even the ones whom he’d thought would never succumb to the urge to settle down and have children.
Ryan could well understand why members of the opposite sex saw him as a suitable target for marriage. Because he never talked about his past, what they didn’t know was that he’d decided a long time ago that he would never become a husband and father. And he hadn’t changed his mind about that.
A sharp tap-tap on the office door interrupted his thoughts and sent his eyes to the clock on his desk. Exactly three p.m.; right on time as usual, Ryan thought with illogical irritation. He actually admired punctuality. He hated wasting time waiting for people, especially when he’d made an appointment. So why didn’t he admire it at three p.m. every Friday afternoon?
‘Come in, Laura,’ he called out through clenched teeth.
She came in, looking exactly the same as she always looked: severely tailored black suit with black hair up in an equally severe French pleat. No make-up. No jewellery. No perfume.
As she crossed the room towards the chair she always occupied during their weekly meeting, Ryan looked her up and down and wondered why she did that to herself. Did she imagine that this was how a female lawyer should look—tough, hard, and totally sexless?
Anyone could see that she could be a very attractive woman if she tried. She had a good figure and an interesting face with high cheekbones and exotically shaped grey eyes. Admittedly, those eyes were usually as cold as an arctic sky, especially when they looked at him.
So Ryan was startled when their eyes met and he glimpsed not chilly indifference for once but a type of pained regret. She even stopped walking for a second to stare at him.
‘What?’ he said straight away.
‘Nothing,’ she replied, and shook her head. ‘Sorry. Let’s get straight down to business, shall we?’ She sat down, crossed her legs with her usual crisp modesty then leant forward to pick up the first of the contracts which were sitting on the edge of his desk waiting for her perusal.
It was a lucrative endorsement deal he’d personally negotiated for an up-and-coming young male tennis-player whom Win-Win had been lucky enough to sign up the previous month. A lot of Ryan’s work involved negotiating contracts of one sort or another, all of which he always had checked over by one of the best legal brains in the whole of Sydney—which Laura had.
She wasn’t an employee of Win-Win; Ryan didn’t need a lawyer to work for him full-time. His company was more of the boutique variety. She worked for Harvey, Michaels and Associates, an American-owned legal firm with a Sydney branch which was conveniently located in the same building as Ryan’s business and which boasted a stable of brilliant criminal and corporate lawyers.
When Ryan had become one of their clients several years ago, they had originally sent him a young male lawyer at Ryan’s request—a smart guy, but a very bad driver who’d wrapped his car around a tree two years back. When the firm had suggested a female replacement, Ryan had been hesitant at first, especially when he had found out she was only thirty and single. But as soon as he had met Laura Ryan had realised there was no chance of his becoming involved with her. Or vice versa.
She still wasn’t a problem in that regard. But she could be irritating all the same. Ryan wasn’t used to being treated with such patent indifference by members of the opposite sex. It irked his male ego, which was considerable. Sometimes her disinterest seemed to border on outright dislike. It crossed his mind occasionally that she might not be interested in men, but he had no real evidence of this. It seemed more likely that past experiences had turned her into a man-hater—either that or she’d never met a man capable of melting her frozen exterior.
Once, a couple of weeks ago when she’d been particularly frosty with him, he’d been taken by the sudden urge to pull her into his arms and kiss her silly, just to see if he could get a reaction out of her.
He hadn’t given in to that urge, of course. Ryan knew if he did any such thing he’d have a world of trouble on his hands faster than a world-class striker could score a goal—amazingly fast.
Besides, he had a lot more control over his testosterone these days. On the surface, that was. His mind, however, had given way to fantasies about the infernal woman all that afternoon.
A wry smile curved his lips as he recalled what he’d done to her in his head, and how avidly she’d responded.
In your dreams, Ryan!
‘What’s so funny?’
Ryan’s head snapped clear at her caustic question, his amusement replaced by surprise. It wasn’t like Laura to notice anything when she was reading through a contract. She almost never glanced up until she was finished, which she obviously wasn’t. By the look of things, she’d only reached the second page of the five-page document.
‘Nothing to do with you, Laura,’ he lied. ‘Just looking forward to the weekend. I’m going sailing with some friends tomorrow.’ Which he was. Erica was away this weekend in Melbourne, attending a conference.
Laura’s sigh also surprised him. It sounded … envious.
‘Lucky you.’
‘Want to come?’ The invitation was out of his mouth before he could snatch it back.
She blinked with shock before dropping her eyes back to the contract. ‘Sorry,’ she said brusquely. ‘I’m busy this weekend.’
Wow, he thought. That was a narrow escape. Whatever had possessed him to invite her? Still, his ego was slightly stroked by her not having said no outright. Maybe she wasn’t as indifferent to his charms as she always seemed.
Ryan knew most women were attracted to him, as they were to most tall, good-looking, successful men.
No false modesty about Ryan.
He didn’t interrupt her as she finished reading the contract but his mind remained extremely active. So did his eyes.
She really did have great legs. He liked women with shapely calves and slender ankles, and feet which weren’t too big. Laura’s feet were quite daintily small for a girl of her height. Pity about those awful shoes she was wearing!
Her hair was great too: dark, thick, glossy and obviously long. It would look fabulous spread out against a pillow …
Whoops. He was doing it again: having sexual fantasies about her. He really had to stop this.
Swinging his chair round to the huge window behind him, Ryan stared out at the view of the harbour which he always found pleasurably diverting and was one of the reasons he’d rented this particular suite of rooms in this building. The other reason was that it was less than two blocks from where he lived in an apartment building which also had a wonderful view of the harbour.
When Ryan had first retired from soccer, he’d missed spending most of his life outdoors. He hated the feeling of being closed in. He liked space around him, liked to see the sky—and water, he’d discovered to his surprise. He hadn’t grown up with a love of water, mostly because it hadn’t been a part of his life; he had never even been taken to the beach as a child. He hadn’t learned to swim till he was twenty, and that had only happened because he’d been forced to train in a pool for a few weeks whilst he recovered from injury.
After his return to live in Sydney, however, he had found himself very drawn to the water, hence his buying an apartment and leasing an office that both came with harbour views. Recently, he’d developed a real love of sailing, and was considering buying a boat.
There were plenty of boats out on the harbour that afternoon, winter having finally given way to spring. The rain which had plagued Sydney for the past two months was thankfully gone; the sky was clear and blue and the water inviting.
His eyes zeroed in on one of the boats which was just moving past Bennelong Point, heading out to sea. It was a large white cruiser, an expensive toy for someone with plenty of money.
Maybe I’ll buy one of those, Ryan thought idly.
He could well afford it; Win-Win wasn’t Ryan’s only source of income. Back during his goalkeeping days, he’d had the sense to invest most of the huge salary he’d earned each year into property. By the time he had retired, he was the owner of a dozen or so units, all located in Sydney’s inner-city suburbs where the rental returns were excellent and the apartments never empty for long.
His extensive property portfolio was another thing Ryan didn’t talk about, however, knowing it wasn’t wise to broadcast one’s wealth. He’d found it didn’t do to court envy. He had a small group of friends who were successful men in their own right, though not multi-millionaires like him. He enjoyed their company and was loath to do anything to spoil their friendship. Of course, now that they’d all tied the knot, he didn’t have quite as much to do with them as he used to. But they still got together occasionally to go to the football or the races.
None of them owned a boat. The ‘friends’ Ryan was going sailing with tomorrow were not real friends. They were professional yachtsmen whom he’d met through his job and who’d been teaching him the ropes about sailing.
‘I can’t seem to find anything wrong with it,’ Laura said at last, in a troubled tone which suggested she should have been able to.
Ryan swung his chair back round to face her.
‘You’re quite sure?’ he asked. It wasn’t like Laura not to want him to change something. She often spotted potential legal loopholes which weren’t to his client’s advantage.
‘Maybe I should read through it again.’
Ryan was as surprised by her suggesting this as he’d been by the odd look she’d given him earlier. Really, she wasn’t herself today. Now that he’d stopped filling his mind with distracting images, he could see that she was the one who was distracted.
What was it that had upset her so much that her mind wasn’t on her work? It had to be something serious.
A curious Ryan decided to see if he could find out.
‘No need to do that,’ he said. ‘I’m sure it’s fine. Why don’t you have a quick whizz through the other two contracts? They’re just renewals. Then we’ll call it a day and I’ll take you down to the Opera Bar for a drink.’ If he could get her to relax, she might open up to him a bit.
She surprised him again by not saying no straight away.
Curiouser and curiouser.
But she didn’t say yes, either.
‘Look,’ he said firmly. ‘I’m not asking you out on a date. Just for a drink. Lots of work colleagues go for drinks on a Friday afternoon.’
‘I do know that,’ she said stiffly.
‘Then what’s your problem?’
Again, she hesitated.
‘Look,’ he went on determinedly, ‘I do realise that you don’t like me much. No no, Laura, don’t bother to deny it; you’ve made your feelings quite obvious over the past two years. I have to confess that I haven’t exactly warmed to you, either. But even the most indifferent and insensitive male would notice that you’re not yourself today. As unlikely as it might seem, I find myself quite worried about you. Hence my invitation to take you for a drink. I thought you might relax over a glass of wine and tell me what’s up.’
And why you gave me that odd look when you first came in, he added privately to himself.
‘Even if I tell you,’ she replied, her eyes unhappy, ‘There’s nothing you can do about it.’
‘Let me be the judge of that.’
She laughed, but it was not a happy sound. ‘You’ll probably be annoyed with me.’
‘That’s a very intriguing thing to say. Now, I simply won’t take no for an answer. You are going to come for a drink with me—right now. And you’re going to tell me what this is all about!’
CHAPTER TWO
LAURA knew it was silly of her to feel flattered by his concern—and even sillier to agree to have a drink with him at the Opera Bar, of all places.
The Opera Bar was the place to go for an after-work drink in Sydney’s CBD, conveniently located near the quay and with one of the best views in town—the Opera House on the right, Circular Quay on the left, the Harbour Bridge straight ahead, not to mention the harbour itself. Half the staff at Harvey, Michaels and Associates gathered there every Friday evening. Even non-social Laura occasionally went with them. She knew that it would cause a stir if she was seen drinking there in the company of Ryan Armstrong.
Why, then, had she agreed?
This was the question which tormented her during the short walk down to the quay.
By the time they arrived at the bar—early enough not to be spotted by any of her work colleagues yet, thank heavens—Laura was no nearer a logical answer.
Alison would have said that she was secretly attracted to him. There again, dear Alison was a hopeless romantic, addicted to those movies where the heroine hates the hero on sight but somehow falls madly in love with him before the credits go up at the end.
Laura could never buy into that plot. When she didn’t like someone, she didn’t like them—end of story. She’d never liked Ryan Armstrong and certainly wasn’t secretly attracted to him.
Okay, so he was good-looking, smart and, yes, highly successful. Ten years ago, she might have found him fascinating. These days, however, she was immune to handsome charmers who used women for their sexual satisfaction—sometimes for other rotten reasons—and gave them nothing in return but the dubious pleasure of their company. They shared nothing of themselves, either emotionally or financially. They were greedy selfish men who wanted their cake and wanted to eat it too. Laura had been involved with two such men in her life and had developed a sixth sense whenever she met a man of their ilk.
Ryan Armstrong had set off warning bells in her head from the first moment they had met, which was why she made an extra effort every Friday to down-play her looks even more than had become her habit during the last few years.
Not that she needed to worry about his making a play for her. It had been obvious from the start that he didn’t like her any more than she liked him. That was why she’d been surprised today by his suddenly being nice to her. He’d got under her guard a couple of times already and now here she was, about to have drinks with him.
It was all very perverse.
‘Let’s sit outside,’ Ryan said, and steered her out to the alfresco area where the sun was still shining, providing enough warmth to counter the freshness of the harbour breeze.
‘What would you like to drink?’ Ryan asked as he pulled out a chair for her at an empty table right by the water’s edge.
‘Bourbon and coke,’ she replied, which made him raise his eyebrows. But he made no verbal comment before turning away and returning to the bar inside to order the drinks.
Being left alone gave Laura even more time to think and to worry. Not about her virtue—no way could she ever be seduced by the likes of Ryan Armstrong—but about the confession which Ryan was seemingly intent on getting out of her.
She still could not believe she’d been stupid enough to do what she’d done. And now it had backfired on her, big time. Not that she could have foretold that the doctors would be proved wrong and that her grandmother would come out of her coma and remember every single word that her granddaughter had said as she had sat by her bedside. Laura’s intentions at the time had all been good, but what did that matter now?
A weary sigh escaped her lips. What was that old saying? ‘The road to hell was paved with good intentions.’
The sight of Ryan walking towards their table with the drinks in his hands reminded her of why she’d chosen him to lie about to her grandmother. He really was the epitome of what her grandmother would think the perfect partner for her favourite granddaughter. First there was the matter of his looks. Gran had always said that she liked a man to look like a man, advising Laura to steer clear of pretty boys whom, she’d said, invariably had no backbone and, more importantly, no muscles to speak of.
‘And they usually go bald early,’ Gran had claimed with a perfectly straight face.
Laura had never been overly impressed by her grandmother’s tendency to make superficial judgements when it came to the opposite sex. Though perhaps she should have listened, since the two men who’d broken her heart had both been pretty boys.
Ryan certainly wasn’t a pretty boy. All his facial features were large and masculine. He had a broad forehead, an aquiline nose and a strong, square jaw which wasn’t softened at all by the dimple in the middle of his chin. His hair was dark brown and would have been thick, if he ever grew it past his military-style crew cut. He certainly wasn’t in danger of going prematurely bald, with no sign of a receding hairline.
Gran also liked men with blue eyes, for some reason.
Ryan’s eyes were blue, though they were so deep-set under his thick dark brows that they sometimes looked black from a distance. Up close, however, their blue was the colour of a bright summer sky—but not nearly as warm. His eyes carried a hardness which no doubt served him well when he was negotiating a deal.
His body would have gained Gran’s tick of approval as well, being tall and broad-shouldered, with muscles in all the right places. Admittedly, Laura had never seen him dressed in anything but a business suit—the kind he was wearing today—but she had seen him jacket-less with his sleeves rolled up and there was no hiding the fact that the man was very fit, with a flat stomach and no flab anywhere.
It was no wonder that she’d chosen him as her imaginary Mr Right, she realised as she watched Ryan walk towards her. He fitted the bill perfectly. Not only did he look like a man physically, but he was financially secure, charming when he wanted to be and, yes, old enough to be experienced in life.
Gran always said that a girl should never marry a man around her own age.
‘Boys mature much later than girls, Laura,’ she’d advised her granddaughter on more than one occasion. ‘They need to experience life before they’re ready to settle down.’
Of course, when she’d been waxing lyrical about Ryan by her Gran’s hospital bed, she hadn’t mentioned just how ‘experienced’ he was, Laura thought caustically. She didn’t think her rather old-fashioned grandmother would approve of a man who’d had more women than underpants. And who changed them just as often.
Frankly, it always amazed Laura why women kept getting sucked into having a relationship with Ryan Armstrong. If you could call what he had with women ‘relationships’. They were just ships passing in the night from what she’d heard. And she’d heard plenty over the past two years.
He smiled as he placed the drinks down on the table, a wickedly sexy smile which gave her a glimpse of how dangerously attractive he could be. If one was susceptible to that kind of thing.
‘I decided to have what you’re having,’ he said as he sat down and swept up his own bourbon and coke. ‘Cheers!’
She picked up her drink, clinked it against his, then took a deep swallow. Their eyes met over the rims of their glasses. His glittered with wry amusement whilst she kept hers as cool as always. But, underneath the silk lining of her black jacket, Laura was startled to feel her heart beating a little faster.
Maybe she wasn’t as immune to the man’s charms as she imagined. But it was not enough to worry about.
Nevertheless, she glanced away at the harbour. It really was a spectacular setting for a city, especially on a warm spring afternoon. Lots of boats were out on the sparkling water, creating a visual feast for all the tourists who’d flocked to the quayside area to take holiday snaps of the bridge and the Opera House.
‘Sydney’s a truly beautiful city, isn’t it?’ Laura said with pride in her voice.
‘It surely is,’ he agreed. ‘You only have to live in other cities in other countries to know how lucky we are.’
She looked back at him. ‘You sound like you’ve lived in lots of other countries.’
Ryan shrugged. ‘Quite a few. But no more prevaricating, now,’ he said as he put down his glass. ‘Tell me what’s going on in your life which has sent you into such a spin today.’
‘I’m not in a spin,’ she said defensively.
‘Laura, you’re sitting here having a drink with me. That’s evidence enough that something has thrown you for a loop. So stop denying it. Given you’re not the sort of girl to make a professional mistake, it has to be a personal problem. And I’m involved in some weird way. Am I right about that?’
‘Yes,’ she said, seeing no point in lying. It was obvious Ryan wasn’t going to let up until he knew every depressing detail, so she took a deep breath then launched into her tale of woe.
‘It’s a bit of a long story, so please be patient with me.’
Patience, she knew, was not one of Ryan’s strong points. But he didn’t say a word, the expression on his face showing genuine interest. He might feel differently when he learned the part he’d played in her disaster, albeit unknowingly.
‘Two weeks ago, my grandmother had a bad fall down some steps and ended up in a coma in hospital. Not in a Sydney hospital—In John Hunter Hospital in Newcastle. Gran lives up in the Hunter Valley. Anyway, the family was told she wasn’t likely to pull through. In fact, the doctors didn’t even expect her to last the night. So I sat with her all that night and, because I didn’t want to go to sleep and not be with her if and when she did pass away, I kept talking to her. And, because I thought it wouldn’t matter, I told her all the things that I knew she’d always wanted to hear: that I’d finally found Mr Right and I was very, very happy.
‘Of course, it didn’t take very long to make that simple announcement, so I was forced to elaborate somewhat to fill in time. Unfortunately, I’ve never had a great imagination; creativity is not a talent of mine. So I thought of all the men I knew and worked with and came up with the one who fitted the bill of Mr Right from my grandmother’s viewpoint. Superficially, that is,’ she added with a rueful glance Ryan’s way.
‘Good God,’ he said, sitting up straight. ‘You’re talking about me, aren’t you?’
‘Unfortunately, yes,’ she admitted dryly.
He laughed, then laughed again. ‘Damn it, but that is funny, Laura. In an ironic way,’ he added. ‘I don’t think what happened to your poor grandmother is funny. I have a soft spot for grandmothers.’
Indeed, his eyes did soften with his words.
‘I must be missing something here,’ he went on, his forehead crinkling into a frown. ‘What harm did it do for you to invent a fictitious Mr Right on your grandmother’s deathbed? Frankly, I think it was rather sweet of you to do what you did.’
Laura sighed. ‘Sweet, but stupid. I should have known that Gran would pull through. She’s always been a fighter. Not only did she pull through, but somehow she remembered every single word I said when she was supposed to be unconscious. Well, perhaps that’s a slight exaggeration. But she did remember my saying that I’d finally met Mr Right and his name was Ryan Armstrong. Now she’s out of hospital and wants me to bring you home to meet her this very weekend.’
‘Naturally,’ Ryan said, then laughed again.
‘Don’t laugh—it really isn’t funny, because she’s still not at all well. The doctors found out that she’d had a small stroke, and that was probably why she fell. The family’s been warned that she could have another stroke at any time. Or even a heart attack. They did lots of tests whilst she was in hospital and things are not good, artery-wise; there are a few serious blockages. But she refuses to have a bypass or any kind of invasive treatment. Says she’s had a good life and is quite happy to go.’
‘Oh dear,’ Ryan said with some genuine sympathy in his voice. ‘You really have landed yourself in a right pickle, haven’t you?’
‘I really have. But it’s not your problem. I only told you because you insisted.’
‘So what are you going to do?’
‘I guess I’ll delay things for as long as I can. I’ll make up some excuse for why you can’t come to meet her this weekend—a business trip, or an illness. But I can hardly keep on saying that. In the end, I’ll have to tell her the truth—though I don’t want to say that I lied about our relationship. She’d be so disappointed with me. I’ll have to say that things just didn’t work out between us after all.’
‘You can say that I didn’t want to marry you. Which is true, after all,’ he added, smiling.
‘Very funny.’
‘It is, rather, if you stop to think about it. I can’t imagine two more unlikely lovers.’
‘Well Gran doesn’t know that, does she?’ Laura snapped, piqued by his remark.
‘No, she doesn’t. Of course, there is one other solution to your problem.’
‘I can’t imagine what.’
‘Of course you can’t. You don’t have an imagination.’
Laura rolled her eyes at him. ‘Then enlighten me, oh brilliant one.’
‘I could go with you to your grandmother’s place this weekend and pretend to be your Mr Right.’
Laura almost spilled the rest of her drink, but she soon gathered her usual poise and gave Ryan the drollest look. ‘And why, pray tell, would you do something as sweetly generous, but as patently ridiculous, as that?’
CHAPTER THREE
WHY indeed? Ryan wondered as he quaffed back a good portion of his drink.
He suspected it was because the idea amused the hell out of him. He rather fancied the prospect of Laura having to act the part of his doting girlfriend.
But of course he could hardly say that. And there was another reason, one which might convince the surprisingly sentimental Laura into going along with his suggestion.
‘As I mentioned before,’ he said, ‘I have a soft spot for grandmothers. Mine was marvellous to me. I don’t know what I would have done without her.’ He certainly wouldn’t have gone on to be a success in life. She was the one who had first taken him to soccer—even though he was a little old at thirteen to take up the sport, which was why he ended up a goalkeeper. And she was the one who had made him believe that he could put the past behind him and become anything he wanted to be.
‘I’ve always regretted that she died before I could give her all the good things she deserved in life,’ he added. More than regret—remorse was more like it. He hadn’t realised until she was gone just how much she’d done for him, and how much she meant to him. He’d cried buckets when he found out she’d died, though not in front of any of his teammates. He’d been a very selfish twenty-two at the time and had just been signed to his first contract with a premier league English team. He hadn’t returned to Australia for his grandmother’s funeral, another deep regret.
He’d been touched by Laura sitting with her grandmother all night, not wanting to leave her to die alone. Clearly, the old lady meant a lot to her.
‘It’s obvious that you’re very close to your grandmother,’ he said.
‘I am,’ Laura said, her voice sounding a little choked up. ‘She raised me after my parents were killed in a plane crash.’
‘I see …’ And he did see. His grandmother had raised him after his own mother had died.
Damn it all, but he didn’t want to think about that!
‘So what do you say to my suggestion?’ he asked, not feeling quite so amused any more. But it was too late to retract his offer.
Laura’s expressive eyes showed considerable reserve. ‘I have to confess that I’m tempted. But I’m not sure we could bring it off—pretending to be lovers, that is. I mean, we don’t even like each other.’
‘True,’ he said bluntly.
‘You don’t have to agree with me so readily,’ she snapped. ‘What is it, exactly, that you don’t like about me?’
He smiled. ‘You don’t really want me to tell you that, do you?’
‘I certainly do.’
‘Okay, you asked for it. First there’s your appearance.’
‘There’s nothing wrong with my appearance!’
Ryan raised an eyebrow sardonically and infuriatingly she felt herself blush. He continued, ‘Then there’s your manner.’
‘What’s wrong with my manner?’
‘Well, “ice queen” would be an understatement. Of course,’ he went on, unbowed in the face of her outrage, ‘If I could persuade you to let your hair down in more ways than one, then it’d be a breeze. Do you think you could do that?’
‘I’m not going to tart myself up for the likes of you, Ryan Armstrong,’ Laura pronounced huffily.
‘And there we have the main reason that I don’t like you: because you don’t like me.’
‘No,’ she bit out. ‘I don’t.’
‘Why not?’
‘You don’t really want me to tell you that, do you?’
He chuckled. She might not have an imagination but she did have a sharp wit. ‘Actually, I’m not so sure that I don’t like you,’ he said. ‘You are very amusing company.’
She made no comment, just gave him another of her dry looks.
‘Do you have a boyfriend, Laura?’ he asked abruptly.
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ she retorted. ‘If I had a boyfriend do you think I would be in this damned awful predicament?’
‘Having a boyfriend does not equate with your finding Mr Right. But let me rephrase that—are you sleeping with anyone at the moment?’
Her eyes grew even colder, if that were possible.
‘I’m between boyfriends at the moment,’ she said tartly.
‘Ah.’
‘And what does that mean?’ she demanded to know.
‘Ah just means ah.’
‘I very much doubt that. You think I’m not capable of getting a boyfriend, don’t you? You think I’m too cold.’
Wow, he thought, how right you are. But rather fascinatingly frosty. What he wouldn’t give to have the chance to melt some of that ice. Unfortunately, a man could get frostbite trying.
He’d have to watch himself with her this weekend.
‘What I think,’ he said after careful consideration, ‘Is that you’ve been hurt by some man in your past which has given you a jaundiced view of the male sex.’
The slight widening of her eyes showed him he was on the right track with his analysis of her character.
‘Lots of attractive women who’ve been badly treated by men subconsciously do things to make themselves less attractive so that they won’t be hit on. Some change their appearance by putting on weight. Some dress in a manner which hides their femininity. Which I think—’
The sound of his phone ringing interrupted his spiel.
‘Excuse me,’ he said to Laura as he fished the phone out of his jacket pocket and glanced at the identity of the caller.
Damn. It was Erica.
CHAPTER FOUR
LAURA welcomed the interruption. Ryan’s interpretation of her character was too close to the bone for her liking. Because of course he was right. Subconsciously, she knew why she dressed the way she did and acted the way she did. But no man had said as much to her out loud before.
She didn’t like it. It made her feel vulnerable and weak. A coward, even. Yet she wasn’t a coward—was she?
The thought tormented her. Alison was always saying that she should give the male sex another chance. But then what would Alison know? She was married to a great guy who was loving and loyal and would never hurt her. She’d never known what it felt like to have one’s heart ripped out, not just by one man, but two. Laura knew she couldn’t afford to open herself to hurt of that kind ever again because if she did, and disaster struck a third time, she suspected she would not survive.
Admittedly, sometimes she was very lonely. Sometimes, she wished her life had been different; if only she’d found someone decent when she’d been younger and still full of hope. Life’s experiences, however, had finally turned her into a hard-hearted cynic, but quite a good judge of character. Nowadays, when she met an attractive man, she quickly saw through his looks to the man beneath.
She knew exactly what sort of man Ryan Armstrong was: the sort who would break a girl’s heart and never lose a moment’s sleep over it.
But he was not totally bad, she accepted as she glanced over the rim of her glass at him. Clearly he was capable of kindness.
‘Hi,’ he said into his phone. ‘How’s things going?’
He’d turned his body away from the table to answer the phone but Laura could still hear him clearly enough. The bar was beginning to fill up but the noise wasn’t too bad, and the music hadn’t yet started.
‘That boring, huh?’ he went on. ‘No, I’m down at the Opera Bar having a drink with a friend from work.’
Laura frowned, knowing instantly that Ryan was being evasive to whomever he was talking to on the phone. His girlfriend, perhaps? He was sure to have one. He always had some girl on tap from what she’d heard. She’d forgotten about that when he’d offered to pretend to be her Mr Right this weekend.
What on earth did he plan to tell the girlfriend if she agreed to his suggestion? Laura couldn’t imagine any female enjoying their boyfriend pretending to be another woman’s boyfriend, no matter how innocent it really was.
‘I’ll ring you later tonight, sweetheart,’ she heard him saying, confirming her suspicion that he was talking to his current girlfriend. ‘Bye for now.’
He hung up and swung back to face her. ‘Now, where was I?’ he said as he put his phone away.
Laura decided to put a spanner in his works with some much-needed honesty.
‘Your girlfriend wouldn’t like you pretending to be my Mr Right,’ she said with chilly disdain in her voice. ‘Or were you thinking about not telling her?’
His eyes grew even colder than her own, if that were possible. ‘Erica does not own me, Laura. Besides, she’s in Melbourne this weekend for a conference.’
‘You mean what she doesn’t know doesn’t hurt her?’
‘Actually, I have every intention of telling Erica when I ring her back later tonight.’
‘Really.’ Laura could not keep the sarcasm out of her voice. In her experience, lying to their girlfriends was second nature to men like Ryan.
‘Yes, really. But I can see you don’t believe me.’
‘Does it matter what I believe? It’s all irrelevant anyway, because I’ve decided not to accept your kind offer.’
‘And why’s that?’
‘Because it can only lead to further complications. Gran’s eightieth birthday is coming up soon. If her health improves, the family is sure to throw her a party and she’ll expect me to attend, along with my newly found Mr Right. I can’t honestly expect you to go along to that as well. By then, we’ll be asked eternal questions about when we’re getting engaged and when the wedding’s going to be. Everything will snowball and you’ll wish you hadn’t started it in the first place. Much better I go home this weekend and say we’ve already broken up.’
Ryan shrugged. ‘If that’s what you want to do. But it wouldn’t worry Erica.’
‘If you think that, Ryan, then you don’t know women very well. I think I should go now,’ she added, becoming nervous that people from her work would start arriving any minute now. ‘Thank you for the drink, and for your offer. It really was very nice of you. But not a good idea.’
She finished her drink and stood up. ‘I’ll see you next Friday at three,’ she said.
‘I tell you what,’ Ryan said before she could escape. ‘I’ll give you my private mobile-number just in case you change your mind. Do you have a biro in that bag of yours? I’ll bet you do,’ he added with a quick smile.
‘Yes, but …’
‘Just write it down, Laura,’ he said with a hint of exasperation. ‘You never know.’
‘Oh, very well,’ she said, and did what he asked, writing the number he gave her down on the back of one of her business cards.
Then she bolted for the exit, thankfully not spotting anyone she knew on the way out. Laura was out of breath by the time she made it to the quay and onto the Manly ferry for the ride home, glad to subside into a seat in a private corner, glad to be alone with her still-whirling thoughts.
But, once her head settled and her heart stopped beating like a rock-band drummer, Laura knew she’d made the right decision, knocking back Ryan’s offer. It was ridiculous to keep such a deception going, no matter how tempted she’d been.
What was that other saying, now? ‘Oh what a tangled web we weave when first we practise to deceive’?
As she’d spelled out to Ryan, it would have been extremely difficult to carry off such a pretence without their dislike for each other shining through somehow. No, she’d done the right thing. The only thing. But she still winced at the thought of telling the family that she’d lied about finding Mr Right. She did have her pride.
No, she’d do what she originally said she’d do: make some excuse why Ryan couldn’t join them this weekend. Then later on, if Gran continued to recover, she could say that they’d broken up because Ryan refused to get married. That would save her pride too. If Gran didn’t recover—Laura’s heart contracted fiercely at this thought—then it wouldn’t matter. Gran would at least have died happy.
CHAPTER FIVE
BY THE time the ferry docked at the Manly wharf and Laura started off up the hill for the walk home, she’d become reconciled to her decision, except for one small regret. It would have been seriously satisfying to go home with a man like Ryan on her arm, she thought with a rather wistful sigh, just to see the looks on the faces of her aunt and uncle, both of whom never let an opportunity go by to point out what a loser she was in the dating department.
Of course the truth was that they didn’t like her. Uncle Bill had resented her from the moment she’d been brought home to her grandparents’ place to live and it had became obvious that his mother preferred her estranged daughter’s daughter to the son he and Cynthia had produced.
Laura didn’t think this should have been a surprise, since all the men in the Stone family were odious. Her grandfather especially. Jim Stone had been a male chauvinistic pig of the first order. His son and his grandson had taken after him, believing they were superior beings and that women were only put on this earth to pander to their needs. After actually living in her grandfather’s house, Laura understood fully why her mother had run away from home as soon as she was old enough and why she’d married a man like her father who, though a strong man, had been compassionate and gentle in his dealings with people, especially women. He’d been a lawyer also; Laura had adored him.
She’d disliked her grandfather intensely and hadn’t been at all sad when he had died. But even in death Jim Stone had been able to make her angry, leaving the family property to his son rather than his long-suffering wife. She’d tried to get her gran to contest the will but she wouldn’t, saying that it didn’t matter, that Bill promised to look after her until she died.
But that wasn’t good enough, in Laura’s opinion. The home which Gran had lovingly tended for over fifty years should have been hers until she died. Instead, she’d been relegated to the role of a poor relative, reliant on her son for charity. All her gran had been left was a miserable twenty-thousand dollars a year, not much more than the old-age pension. That was until Laura had had a little chat with her uncle and insisted that he bump the amount up to forty thousand at least, warning him that if he didn’t then she would use every bit of her power and influence to get his mother to contest the will.
Naturally, her firm stance hadn’t gone down too well, but he’d done what she had asked. Of course, he’d made it sound like it was all his idea. When Laura had seen how touched her grandmother had been—she probably wasn’t used to the men in her life treating her nicely—she hadn’t said a word. Several times, during the five years since her grandfather had died, Laura had tried to persuade her grandmother to come to Sydney to live with her, but to no avail. Her gran said she was a country girl and wouldn’t be happy living in the city.
Yet I have a very nice home, Laura thought as she pushed open the gate which led up the path to the three-bedroomed cottage which had belonged to her parents and which had come to her when they were so tragically killed. Her grandfather had tried to sell it after she’d gone to live with him, but her darling grandmother—who had been sole executor of her daughter’s will—had refused to give permission for the sale. So the contents had been stored and the house had been rented out until Laura had left school and moved back to Sydney to attend university, at which point she’d taken possession of it again.
She’d lived there ever since, mostly happily. Only once had the house been instrumental in bringing her unhappiness. But that hadn’t really been the house’s fault.
Laura inserted the key in the front door, knowing that as soon as she turned the lock and opened the door Rambo would come bolting down the hallway, meowing for food.
And there he was, right on cue. Putting her bag down on the hall table, she scooped him up into her arms and stroked his sleek brown fur. It was better to pick him up, she’d found, than to leave him down on the floor to trip her up.
‘How was your day, sweetie?’ she said as she made her way down to the kitchen.
His answer was some very contented purring.
Once in the kitchen she plopped Rambo down on the tiled floor and set about getting him his favourite ‘fussy cat’ food, steak mixed with chicken. She’d just filled his dish with the meat and shoved the plastic container in the garbage bin when her phone rang—not her mobile, her land line. Which meant it wasn’t Alison or any of her work colleagues. The only people who used her land line were telemarketers and family.
Laura steeled herself as she swept up the receiver from where it was attached to the kitchen wall.
‘Hello,’ she said somewhat abruptly.
‘I finally got you,’ Aunt Cynthia replied with an air of frustration. ‘I tried ringing earlier but you weren’t home.’
Laura glanced up at the kitchen clock. It was only five-thirty. She was rarely home on a Friday night before six.
‘You can always get me on my mobile,’ Laura told her. ‘I did give you the number.’
‘Bill said I wasn’t to ring people on their mobiles. He said it cost a fortune.’
Laura sighed. ‘Not these days it doesn’t, Aunt Cynthia. Anyway, what did you want me for? There’s nothing wrong with Gran, is there?’ she added with a sudden jab of worry.
‘No, no, your grandmother’s doing quite well, considering. I’m ringing because Shane asked me to.’
Shane was her vile only-son and heir who was a chip off the old Stone block. He’d tormented Laura from the day she’d gone to live with her grandparents. His family had lived nearby in a smaller house on the same property. Thankfully, when she had finished primary school, Gran had sent Laura to boarding school in Sydney, a move which she’d appreciated. Her grandfather had objected at first on the grounds of the cost but her gran had stood firm again, saying the fees could easily be covered by Laura’s inheritance. Both Laura’s parents had had excellent insurance policies which had paid out double because they’d died in an accident.
Laura had quite enjoyed her school days—not her holidays so much, which her wretched cousin had made a right misery. Admittedly, he’d improved slightly with age, mainly because he’d married a modern girl who refused to put up with his boorish behaviour. In truth, the last time they’d met, Shane had surprised Laura by being reasonably civil to her. But Laura couldn’t imagine why he would ask their mother to ring her.
‘What does he want?’ she asked warily.
‘To find out if your new boyfriend is the same Ryan Armstrong who was a famous goalkeeper a few years back. His father told him that it was highly unlikely, given he was dating you, but I promised to ask you just the same. Because Shane said, if he was, he wants to meet him.’
‘And if he wasn’t?’ Laura asked archly.
‘What?’
Laura gritted her teeth. They really were a most annoying family!
‘Yes,’ she bit out. ‘Ryan is, or was, a famous goalkeeper.’ She only knew that because she’d been told of Ryan’s international success by a sport-loving colleague of hers who’d been quite jealous about her securing Ryan as a client.
‘Heavens to Betsy!’ her aunt exclaimed. ‘I can’t believe it. Shane’s going to be so excited. You know how much he loves watching the soccer.’
Actually no, Laura didn’t know any such thing. She’d had as little to do with Shane as possible over the years.
‘I must say I’m somewhat surprised,’ her aunt rattled on, ‘That you’ve got yourself a boyfriend at all, let alone a famous one.
‘I was saying to Bill just the other week that it looked like you were going to end up an old maid. You’re not a bad-looking girl, but you do have an unfortunate way about you. You state your opinions much too strongly. Men don’t like that, you know. And the way you dress is … well, not very feminine. Still, I guess there’s someone for everyone in this world. So how old is your Mr Armstrong? I dare say he’s not all that young.’
Laura couldn’t say a word for a moment, having been rendered speechless by her aunt’s tactless commentary.
But, as she struggled to find her tongue, Laura knew that there was no way now that she was going up to that house tomorrow alone. No darned way!
‘To tell you the truth, Aunt,’ she said at last, ‘I’m not sure exactly how old Ryan is. Middle to late thirties is my best guess.’
‘You’d think you’d know your boyfriend’s age,’ her aunt said snippily. ‘How long did you say you’d been going out with him?’
‘We’ve been business acquaintances for two years. But we’ve only started dating recently.’
‘Oh, I see. So he’s not that serious about you yet.’
‘He’s very serious about me,’ she heard herself saying. ‘You don’t think he’d agree to come home with me and meet Gran if he wasn’t serious, do you?’
‘What? Oh no, no, I suppose not. So what time do you think you might arrive?’
Laura closed her eyes and prayed that Ryan would not change his mind and retract his offer when she rang him.
‘Around noon?’ she suggested.
‘Could you make it later than that?’ her aunt said. ‘Say, around three? That way I won’t have to do lunch tomorrow as well as dinner that night and lunch again the next day. That’s a lot of work, you know.’
‘But we weren’t going to stay the night,’ Laura protested.
‘Don’t be silly, of course you are. I’ve already bought the food and the wine. On top of that your grandmother is expecting you to stay for the weekend, not just for a few short hours. You wouldn’t want to disappoint her, would you?’
‘No, of course not,’ Laura said, but her head was spinning. How on earth was she going to keep up such a ridiculous charade for that long? And what if Ryan refused to go with her? Giving her his phone number was no guarantee he would say yes a second time.
‘We’ll see you tomorrow around three, then?’
‘All right,’ Laura agreed somewhat weakly.
‘And Laura …?’
‘Yes?’
‘Bring a dress to wear for dinner tomorrow night, will you? I don’t want to see you at the table wearing those ghastly jeans you seem to live in.’
Laura sucked in a deep breath through wildly flaring nostrils. She was about to launch into a counter-attack when she realised the line had already gone dead. She glared down at the receiver for several furious seconds before slamming it back on the hook.
If there was anyone who could get under her skin even more than her uncle, it was her aunt—stupid, self-important, insensitive woman! Laura felt sorry for her grandmother, having to live with two such impossible people. She deserved better after putting up with that wretched husband of hers for fifty-five years.
Thinking about her grandmother’s feelings put some perspective back into Laura’s growing frustrations over the weekend ahead. Okay, so she’d backed herself into a right royal corner now. Too bad. Gran was worth putting up with pretending to be Ryan Armstrong’s girlfriend for longer than a few hours. And worth having to put her pride aside to ring him back and tell him that she’d changed her mind and wanted to accept his offer. If he prevaricated, she would beg him to come with her, if she had to. Hell, she’d even bribe him if she had to. Though what with, she had no idea.
The thought of offering him sex popped into her head out of the blue. It was such a crazy idea that she threw back her head and laughed out loud. As if the prospect of sex with her would persuade a man like Ryan to do anything! It would more likely make him run in the other direction.
Shaking her head, she marched back down the hallway to where she’d left her handbag, rifling through it to retrieve the business card she’d written his number down on.
Her stomach tightened into a knot as she picked up her mobile phone and punched in the numbers. For what would she do if he refused? What could she do? Laura felt sick just thinking about it. She hit the call button and started praying.
CHAPTER SIX
‘RYAN Armstrong,’ he answered quite promptly in his very male voice.
Laura straightened her spine and squared her shoulders at the same time. ‘Ryan, it’s Laura. Laura Ferrugia.’
‘Laura!’
No doubting the surprise in his voice.
She could hear noise in the background, people laughing and talking, and live music playing. If she wasn’t mistaken he was still at the Opera Bar.
Laura decided not to waffle; she wasn’t a waffly person at the best of times. ‘Is your offer still open?’ she asked abruptly.
‘Absolutely.’
‘Thank God,’ she couldn’t help saying.
‘That sounds somewhat ominous. What’s happened to make you change your mind?’
‘My aunt happened, that’s what,’ she said sharply.
‘Sorry. Have I missed something?’
‘I’ll fill you in tomorrow during the drive up there.’
‘Up where?’
‘Didn’t I tell you? Gran lives in the Hunter Valley. So does the rest of my family. I’m sure I told you.’
‘You probably did. I remember you mentioning the John Hunter hospital.’
‘Yes, well, the John Hunter hospital is not really near the Hunter Valley. I take it you’re not familiar with the Newcastle area?’
‘No. Never been up that way at all.’
‘It’s a relatively easy drive. You just take the freeway north and turn off at the signs to the vineyards. I usually make it in just over two hours. If I leave home out of peak hour, that is.’
‘And where’s home?’
‘Manly. Do you have a nice car?’
‘That’s an odd question. Ah, yes, I get the drift. You want to impress.’
‘You have no idea,’ she said with so much feeling that he laughed.
‘In that case, you’ll be pleased to know I have a very nice car. A navy-blue BMW convertible. Will that do?’
‘Wonderful. And Ryan, I hate to tell you this, but my aunt assumed that we’d be staying the night and I simply couldn’t get out of it. Though you don’t have to worry that we’d have to share a bedroom. Gran would never tolerate that in her home.’
But it wasn’t her gran’s home any more, came the sudden thought.
Surely her aunt wouldn’t put them in the same bedroom?
Surely not?
But she just might …
Best not say anything, or Ryan might back out of the deal.
It was a worry all the same.
‘So, what’s your address?’ he asked. ‘And when do you want me to pick you up tomorrow?’
‘What?’
‘Laura, get with the programme.’
‘Sorry,’ she muttered and gave him the details he requested.
‘What clothes should I take with me?’ he asked. ‘I’m getting the feeling that your family has money. Am I right?’
‘They’re well off but not seriously rich. Still, my aunt fancies herself a social hostess, so she’ll pull out all the stops for dinner tomorrow night. But you won’t need a dinner suit or anything like that.’
‘What kind of place is it?’
‘Years ago it used to be a large stud-farm for thoroughbred horses, with hundreds of acres of prime pastureland. But when there was a downturn in the horse-racing industry my grandfather sold off all the horses and went into cattle. Then when he died a few years back and my uncle took over he sold off most of the land to a property developer and invested the money, though he did keep a few cows. Nowadays, the property’s just a small farm, really.’
‘I’ve never been to a farm.’
‘You haven’t missed much.’
‘I take it you’re not a country girl at heart.’
‘You take it correctly. There’s something else I should tell you.’
‘Shoot.’
‘I have a male cousin named Shane who’s apparently a mad soccer-fan and is sure to be at the family dinner tomorrow night. He twigged that you were once a famous goalkeeper and is dying to meet you. Are you all right with that?’
‘Won’t bother me a bit.’
‘I didn’t think it would but I thought you should know all the same.’
‘That’s very thoughtful of you, Laura.’
‘You’re the one who’s being thoughtful. I’ll be forever grateful for you doing this.’
‘It’s my pleasure. If you must know, I’m quite looking forward to it.’
‘I don’t know why. I’m terrified.’
‘Yes, I can hear the tension in your voice. Look, don’t make me wait till tomorrow to find out what your aunt said to force you to change your mind. You have to tell me now or I won’t be able to sleep for imagining all sorts of crazy scenarios. It wasn’t just because she found out about my goalkeeping past, was it?’
‘No, nothing like that. It was what she said about me.’
‘What did she say about you?’
Laura told him—every insulting detail of her conversation with her aunt, even the bit where she implied Ryan must have been ancient to be interested in her. She could feel her temper rising as she gave vent to her feelings of hurt and humiliation.
‘Do you know she had the hide to tell me to wear a dress to dinner tomorrow night?’
‘Shocking.’
‘Are you making fun of me?’
‘Not at all,’ he denied. ‘I think your aunt was very rude.’ He paused, somehow managing to sound completely unconvincing, and Laura remembered his comment about her appearance.
She bristled. ‘I’ll have you know that I own several dresses. And quite a bit of make-up. I just don’t choose to wear either to work. Or at weekends in the country.’
‘But you will this weekend, if you’re serious about impressing your family. It’s not just me who’ll be on show, sweetheart, but us as a couple.’
‘You’re not going to call me that, are you?’
‘Call you what?’
‘Sweetheart,’ she bit out.
‘Not if you don’t like it.’
‘I don’t like it.’
‘What would you like me to call you, then?’
‘Laura.’
‘Laura it is, then. And Laura …?’
‘Yes?’
‘Try to relax a bit before tomorrow, will you? You’re way too uptight.’
‘Sorry. I can’t help it. I hate having to do this.’
‘What? Pretend that you’re in love with me?’
Laura winced. Did he have to be so baldly honest?
‘I guess,’ she said.
‘You’ve been madly in love before, haven’t you?’
‘Yes,’ she confessed reluctantly. Twice. First with Brad, and then with Mario. Finding out Brad was a selfish, greedy, amoral rat had been devastating enough. But it had been the super-charming Mario who had nearly destroyed her. Because she should have known better by then. Should have seen through his lies.
But she hadn’t.
‘Act with me the way you acted with him, then,’ Ryan suggested.
‘I could never act that way again,’ she said coldly. ‘It was pathetic.’
‘That bad, huh? Okay, just don’t freeze up if I put my arm around you or give you a little kiss occasionally. Strictly no tongues.’
‘I should hope not!’
He laughed. ‘I can see that tomorrow might be a stretch, but what the hell? We’re doing this for your gran, right?’
Laura blinked. She’d almost forgotten about her. Ever since that horrid phone call from her aunt she’d been thinking more about herself and her pride.
‘Yes,’ she said, feeling ashamed of herself. ‘Yes, of course.’ There wasn’t anything she wouldn’t do for her gran. ‘Ryan …?’
‘Mmm?’
‘You can call me sweetheart if you want to.’
He laughed. ‘That’s more like it. Now you just need to find a dress. Red would look good on you.’
‘But I don’t own a red dress.’
‘Then go buy one! You have all tomorrow morning. And some sexy shoes as well. Have to go now, Laura, someone’s trying to ring me. I’ll see you at your place tomorrow at one o’clock sharp.’
Laura opened her mouth to protest, but he’d already hung up.
Dear God, what have I done?
But he was right, she supposed. Any girlfriend of Ryan’s would dress sexily.
Laura hadn’t dressed sexily since she’d split with Mario, which was quite a few years ago now. Frankly, she wouldn’t even know where to start to find a sexy red dress.
But Alison would. Alison was right into fashion.
Laura pulled a face. If she asked Alison for help that would mean telling her what she was doing this weekend—and with whom. This would also mean confessing what she’d said to her gran when she’d been in the coma.
Alison would be hurt that she hadn’t confided in her earlier. The two girls pretty well told each other everything, had done ever since their boarding-school days together. Confessing that she’d kept a secret from her would be hard but it had to be done.
Hopefully, she wouldn’t judge her too harshly. Biting her bottom lip, she punched in Alison’s number and walked slowly into her bedroom. There she sank down on the side of the bed and waited for her best friend to answer.
Please don’t let her have gone out tonight, she prayed as the phone rang and rang.
A split second before it would have gone to her message bank, Alison’s harried voice came down the line. ‘This had better be important, Laura. You know how dreadful the children can be at this time of night.’
In truth, Laura could hear the sounds of arguing in the background. Alison had a boy of eight and a girl of six who didn’t always get along, especially when they were tired. Clearly it wasn’t the time for true confessions right at this moment.
‘Sorry,’ Laura said. ‘But I am desperate. Could you get Peter to mind the children tomorrow morning whilst you come shopping with me?’
‘Shopping for what?’
‘A dress. A sexy red dress.’
‘Bloody hell, Laura, I almost dropped the phone just then. Did I hear you correctly? Did you say you wanted to buy a sexy red dress?’
‘Yes,’ Laura admitted, knowing that she’d just opened the floodgates to Alison’s curiosity, which was second to none. ‘Could I possibly explain tomorrow?’
‘You can explain later tonight, madam, when I have time to call you back and listen to what I’m sure will be a fascinating story.’
‘All right,’ Laura said with a resigned sigh. ‘Just be gentle with me. I’m feeling a bit fragile.’
‘Rubbish! You don’t do fragile. You kids, if you don’t stop fighting I’m going to get off this phone and strangle you. Laura, I have to go kill the kids. I’ll ring you back later.’
‘Fine,’ Laura said wearily and hung up.
CHAPTER SEVEN
‘MY MIND’S still boggled by all this,’ Alison said as she put down her coffee cup.
They were sitting in a café in Centre Point Tower, having spent a good two hours since the shops opened finding the right sexy red dress, not to mention a pair of equally sexy shoes.
‘I mean, why Ryan Armstrong of all people?’ she went on disbelievingly.
‘You know why, Alison,’ Laura replied patiently. ‘He’s exactly the type of man Gran would think was a good catch.’
‘But you can’t stand him.’
‘I don’t dislike him as much as I thought I did,’ Laura admitted. How could she when he was doing this for her?
‘Ah-ha!’ Alison pounced. ‘I get it. You’ve been secretly attracted to him all along. And he to you.’
‘Please don’t start that romantic rubbish, Alison.’
‘But why else would he agree to this … This …?’
‘Charade,’ Laura finished for her. ‘I told you—he’s doing it because he has a soft spot for grandmothers.’
Alison rolled her eyes. ‘Oh, phooey! He’s probably just doing it to get into your pants. Now that I’ve had time to think about it, I can see it’s not romance he wants but sex. I keep forgetting not all men are sincere like my Peter. We both know what kind of guy Ryan Armstrong is, Laura. He’s a player, with an obsession about winning. If what you’ve told me is true, you’ve been giving him the cold shoulder ever since you got him as a client. Am I right?’
‘Yes.’
‘Men like that don’t expect women to give them the cold shoulder. They’re used to being flattered and flirted with. You’ve become a challenge, Laura. You yourself said you were surprised at his asking you out for a drink.’
And to go sailing with him, Laura suddenly recalled.
‘That was move number one,’ Alison said wryly.
‘But he has a girlfriend!’ Laura protested.
‘Who’s away in Melbourne for the weekend. My my, how convenient.’
‘It isn’t like you to be so cynical, Alison. That’s usually my bag.’
‘Yes, well, I can see that you’re in danger of being taken in by this creep. I mean, the guy asks you to buy a sexy red dress and you actually go and buy one. The Laura I know would never have done that.’
Laura sighed. ‘I’m not being taken in by him. I just don’t want to look like an old maid this weekend.’
‘Well, you sure as hell won’t look like an old maid in that red dress. And those beck-and-call-girl shoes you bought.’
‘You told me to buy them.’
‘That was before I worked out what the guy was really up to.’
‘I hate to mention this, Alison, but it takes two to tango. And I have no intention of sleeping with Ryan Armstrong, even if he wanted me to.’
Which he didn’t. But Laura could see where Alison was coming from. Her friend’s view of Ryan’s character had been tainted by what Laura had said about him in the past. If she met him, Alison would see that he wasn’t some kind of sleaze bag who couldn’t go a weekend without sex. As much as it pained Laura to admit it, he’d shown her another side yesterday, one which had both surprised and impressed her.
‘He’s just being kind,’ Laura stated firmly. ‘Now, I have to get going. Ryan’s picking me up at one. Thanks a bunch for coming with me, Alison. I would never have found that dress without you.’
‘Don’t thank me yet,’ Alison said dryly. ‘That is not any old dress. Even if he doesn’t fancy you yet, he will when he sees you in it.’
Laura worried about Alison’s last words all the way home on the ferry. It was a sexy dress. But not over-the-top sexy, she decided once she had the opportunity to have a second look at it in the privacy of her bedroom.
Of course the scarlet colour was a bit in your face. As was the wide, black patent-leather belt which was decorated with rows of silver studs. Still, the fashion world seemed to have become addicted to glamour and glitz during the last few years so it was hard to buy a cocktail dress which wasn’t shiny or didn’t have some bling on it. The same applied to shoes. The black patent high-heels Alison had talked her into buying had the same silver studs decorating the straps which ran up the front of her foot to the wide ankle strap.
Laura winced when she looked at the shoes again. Perhaps it would be wise to wear another pair of shoes, one which was less provocative, and decidedly less dominatrix-inspired. But when she rummaged through her wardrobe in search of something else Laura soon saw that there was absolutely nothing there that wouldn’t look positively dreary. After her break-up with Mario, she’d thrown away all the sexy clothes and shoes that she’d happily worn for him, replacing them with a wardrobe which wouldn’t have stirred a single hormone in any man.
Whilst Laura didn’t actually want to stir Ryan Armstrong’s hormones this weekend, she did want her family to think she was capable of doing so. If a by-product of this was that Ryan might look at her temporarily with different eyes, then so be it. She couldn’t imagine that he would actually make a pass. Why would he when he already had a girlfriend who was no doubt providing him with plenty of sex? Whilst Ryan had a reputation for trading in his girlfriends with monotonous regularity, he did not have a reputation for two-timing. As perverse as it might seem, he was well thought of around Sydney as a man of integrity.
Up until yesterday, Laura had taken that opinion of her esteemed client with a grain of salt. But, now that she’d had more to do with him, she was beginning to feel that he could be trusted, which was a very odd thing for her to think about any man, let alone a swinging-bachelor type like Ryan.
Whatever, she didn’t have time to worry about such matters right at that moment. It was getting on for twelve-thirty, leaving her only half an hour to finish getting ready then have a bite to eat before Ryan arrived. At least she was already dressed in decent clothes, even if they were just jeans and a simple white shirt. Overnight, she’d considered buying herself something else to wear for the drive up there—a skirt and sweater, perhaps. But it had taken all her time this morning to find the red dress. And, really, jeans were sensible for wearing on a country weekend.
Neither was she going to leave her hair down. She hated having it hang around her face all day; It was bad enough that she had to wear it down for dinner tonight. But she would compromise by putting it up into a ponytail which was a little more feminine than her usual style. Plus she would wear lipstick. Not red lipstick, however; the red-lipstick-wearing could wait until tonight.
Tonight …
Laura shuddered at the thought of tonight.
Then don’t think about it, Laura, she lectured herself. Thinking about it won’t help. It will only make you more nervous. The deed is done now and there’s no backing out.
Think of Gran if you have to think of anything. Think of making her happy. Think of all those good intentions you had when you first told her that Ryan Armstrong was your Mr Right.
Laura couldn’t help it, she burst out laughing. Ryan was so spot on. It really was rather funny, his being cast as her Mr Right, because if anyone was the perfect Mr Wrong for her it was him.
But her gran wouldn’t know that, Laura conceded as she began to pack. She would only see what she wanted to see, a handsome, successful, charming, mature man.
What she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.
Hopefully.
Laura groaned. Somehow she couldn’t get past the niggly feeling that this weekend wasn’t going to go exactly as planned—that before this day was out, it was going to be a colossal disaster!
CHAPTER EIGHT
RYAN glanced at the digital clock on the dash as he neared the street where Laura lived. Only a quarter to one; he was a little early. Not a good idea to be too early; he pulled over to the kerb to let a few minutes pass before proceeding.
Time ticked slowly by, during which his thoughts inevitably returned to what had happened when he’d rung Erica last night and told her his revised plans for this weekend.
Ryan shook his head at the memory of her reaction. Laura had been so right; maybe he didn’t know women as well as he thought he did. Because Erica had not been happy. Not only that, she’d been decidedly jealous!
Being on the end of jealousy was something which brought out the worst in Ryan. When Erica started accusing him of also having fancied Laura and that this was just a ploy to sleep with her, Ryan had told her in no uncertain terms that if that was what she thought then it was time they went their separate ways. After which he had hung up.
The fact that Erica subsequently sent him several grovel-ling—then abusive—text messages over the next hour had only confirmed his opinion that he’d done the right thing in breaking up with her. But the episode had bothered him all the same. He’d turned his phone off in the end, but he suspected that more messages would be there if and when he turned it back on again. Though what she had left to say he had no idea. He’d already been called every derogatory name in the dictionary from a filthy louse to a ‘something’ libertine.
He hadn’t been quite sure what a libertine was, so he’d looked it up and discovered that a libertine was a licentious and lascivious man who did as he pleased—which he thought was a bit harsh, though not entirely inaccurate. He did do as he pleased in the main. And it pleased him not to continue a relationship with a female who was hypocritical as well as foul-mouthed. It also pleased him to pretend to be Laura’s Mr Right this weekend and make an old lady’s last days happy.
The clock on the dash showed it was now twelve-fifty-three.
Time to arrive.
The house at the address Laura had given him came as a surprise. Not because it was grand, or large—it had possibly only three bedrooms. Federation cottages in good condition, however, were still worth a mint, especially when positioned high on a hill overlooking Manly Beach. He wondered if she owned it or was just renting.
It seemed an odd choice for a rental, he decided as he climbed out from behind the wheel and made his way through the front gate and up the flagged front path. The garden on either side was well tended, he noted, and the green paintwork around the front windows looked freshly done.
Not a rental, he concluded by the time he stepped up onto the ivy-covered front patio and rang the polished brass doorbell. Laura owned this lovely little house. He was sure of it.
Ryan was about to ring the bell again when the front door was swept open and Laura stood there, looking a darned sight better than she usually did. Gone was the funereal black suit; in its place were nicely fitted dark-blue jeans, black ankle-boots and a crisp white shirt with rolled-up sleeves and a turned-up collar. Her hair was swept back up into a ponytail and she’d put on some pink lipstick. All in all she looked five years younger than she had yesterday, and a good deal more fanciable.
Not that he fancied her. Not really; Erica was quite wrong about that. He would never have put himself in this position with a woman he seriously fancied. He was not that much of a fool.
‘You’re early,’ she said, almost accusingly.
Some things, Ryan realised, could not be changed as easily as appearances. She should have been grateful, not irritated. He always liked it when people were on time.
Except at three on a Friday afternoon …
Now why did he have to think of that?
Ryan shrugged in an effort to rid himself of the annoying thought that something was eluding him here. ‘Only five minutes. You’re looking good,’ he complimented her.
‘Thank you. So do you,’ she returned, if a little grudgingly.
‘We aim to please,’ he said with a smile.
She didn’t smile back, though something flickered in her eyes. He wasn’t sure what—more irritation, probably. Man, but he had his work cut out for him this weekend. It wasn’t going to be easy pretending to be in love with Miss Prickly.
‘I won’t be long,’ she said, whirling and walking quickly back down the hallway. ‘The bathroom’s in there,’ she said over her shoulder, indicating a door halfway up the hall on the right. ‘That’s if you want to go before we leave.’
‘I’m fine,’ he called back.
She was as quick as she said she would be, dragging a small black travel-case in one hand and carrying a plastic suit-cover in the other. Ryan stepped forward to take the bag, leaving her with the coat hanger.
‘I presume that’s a dress you’ve got in there,’ he said as they made their way out onto the front porch.
‘Yes,’ came her brusque reply. ‘Here. Hold it while I lock up.’
He was standing there, both hands full, when a cat suddenly curled around his right ankle, a sleek brown-coated feline who had ‘show cat’ written all over him. Until it peered up at Ryan.
‘Good God!’ he exclaimed in shock. ‘Is this your cat?’
‘What? Oh yes.’
‘He’s only got one eye!’
‘Hmm, yes,’ Laura agreed dryly. ‘I had noticed that, Ryan.’
‘What happened to him? Was he in a fight?’
‘No. He had a run-in with a car about a year ago. Didn’t you, sweetie?’ she said, her voice turning soft as she scooped the cat up into her arms. ‘Cost me a small fortune at the vet. Over three-thousand dollars.’
Ryan just stared at her. Over three-thousand dollars on a cat?
‘Yes, I know,’ she said, back to her droll tone. ‘Not what you might have expected from hard-hearted Laura.’
‘You’re certainly proving to be more sentimental than I imagined.’
‘Sorry to disappoint you.’
‘I’m not at all disappointed. You should never apologise for having a softer side, Laura. It’s what makes a woman a woman.’
‘It’s what makes fools of them,’ she retorted sharply. ‘Especially where men are concerned.’
‘I can’t see any man making a fool of you.’
‘As I said last night, Ryan, you don’t know women as well as you think you do. Which reminds me, what did your girlfriend say about your pretending to be my boyfriend for this weekend? Or didn’t you tell her?’
Ryan realised straight away that the truth would complicate things unnecessarily. Far better Laura not know how badly Erica had reacted, or that they were no longer a couple.
‘Of course I told her,’ he lied. ‘And she was fine with it.’
Laura shook her head. ‘Amazing.’ She bent down to drop the cat gently at her feet. ‘Be a good boy, Rambo, and don’t go on the road whilst I’m away.’
‘He’ll be fine being home alone?’ Ryan asked as they made their way out to the car.
‘It’s only for one night. He has plenty of food and water and his own cat slap. I’ve asked one of the neighbours to keep an eye on him as well.’
‘What breed is he?’ Ryan asked as he laid the suit-cover down on the back seat then placed the bag alongside his in the boot.
‘Abyssinian.’
‘Ah. I thought he was a pedigree cat. Have you had him long?’
She shot him one of her impatient looks. ‘What is this, twenty questions?’
Ryan decided to ignore her stroppiness. ‘I’m just collecting some basic facts about you. After all, a genuine boyfriend would know about your cat, wouldn’t he?’
Laura sighed. ‘I suppose so. In that case, his name is Rambo and he’s almost five. I bought him after I …’ She broke off abruptly, her mouth tightening.
‘After you what?’
‘After I broke up with Mario,’ she went on at last, her voice as bleak as her face.
‘I see,’ he said, wondering what exactly dear old Mario had done to turn Laura into such a man-hater. Had she caught him with another woman? Or was it the classic deceit of his having been a married man? His behaviour must have been pretty bad to devastate Laura the way it obviously had. Most women would have moved on by now. Five years ago, she’d said. Wow. Did that mean she’d gone without sex for the last five years? Ryan couldn’t imagine a life without regular sex. It was as necessary to him as eating and drinking. Still, he supposed women were different to men in that regard. At least, some obviously were.
‘Enough of the third degree for now,’ he went on, deciding to forget the awkward questions for a while. ‘So, what do you think of my car? Impressive enough for you?’
CHAPTER NINE
LAURA looked at the car and wished that she didn’t find being in Ryan’s company such a struggle. But from the moment she’d opened the door to him, she’d been thrown off-kilter.
She’d thought she was used to his good looks. After all, she’d seen him every Friday for two years and had never been rendered weak at the knees. But that was exactly how she’d felt a few minutes ago.
Perhaps it was the way he was dressed—all in black. Black jeans, black T-shirt and a black leather jacket. It was not the kind bikers wore but a softer, sleeker kind of jacket. It still gave him a distinctly macho edge. In it, he looked not just handsome but drop-dead gorgeous.
It had taken all of her composure not to stare. But she’d been rattled all the same, even more rattled when he had smiled and said how good she looked.
Thankfully, she hadn’t done anything humiliating like blush. Unfortunately, however, she’d become defensive and uptight and, yes, downright bitchy. Which was the last thing she wanted to be with him today. If she was going to convince Gran and the rest of the family that Ryan was her real boyfriend, she’d have to stop being her usual sarcastic self and start being nice. Seriously nice.
To compliment his car would be a good idea, but she refused to gush. Gushing was going way too far.
‘It’s very nice,’ she said. ‘I like the dark-blue colour.’
‘Get in,’ he said, coming round to open the passenger door for her.
She did so, sighing with undeniable pleasure as she sank into the soft, cream leather seats.
‘Comfy?’ he asked.
‘Very,’ she said, and glanced up at him.
Bad idea. He was smiling at her again. God, but he was just so gorgeous when he smiled like that!
‘You can’t beat leather, can you?’ he said, still smiling.
When her stomach actually fluttered, she gritted her teeth, put on her seat belt then turned her eyes straight ahead.
Unfortunately after he closed the door he strode round the front of the car, right past her line of vision.
Even the way he walked was sexy, she realised, his legs moving with long, jaunty strides and his broad shoulders rocking slightly from side to side. It was a confident walk. Confident and cocky.
Laura sighed with relief when he moved out of view. But her relief only lasted until he opened the driver’s door and slid in behind the wheel.
‘I think under the circumstances,’ he said as he gunned the engine, ‘That we should put the top down.’
Instant panic sent her eyes jerking in his direction. She wanted to tell him not to do that, but already the roof was retracting and, really, what could she say? It wasn’t as though it was a cold day. There was absolutely no wind and there wasn’t a cloud in the clear, blue sky. There was no logical reason why she should be alarmed. But she was.
‘You’ll enjoy it,’ he added, his eyes meeting hers. ‘Trust me.’
Laura gave him a tight little smile. It wasn’t him she didn’t trust, she realised with a jab of dismay. It was herself.
Where had this sudden mad attraction come from?
Admittedly, Ryan was a very attractive man in a physical sense; as cynical as she was about the male sex, Laura wasn’t blind. Okay, so he wasn’t her usual type. Unlike her gran, she’d always gone for elegantly built males of average height who didn’t tower over her. Big, broad-shouldered, macho men had always made her feel uncomfortable.
Ryan was certainly making her feel uncomfortable right at this moment, but in a disturbingly delicious and insidiously corrupting way. It was as well that he didn’t fancy her, Laura realised. A blessing, too, that he had a girlfriend, otherwise she just might have been tempted to make a fool of herself this weekend.
Her stomach churned at the development of this highly unexpected situation. There she’d been, thinking she’d have trouble pretending to be Ryan’s girlfriend. Now she was faced with having to control the urge to seduce the man!
Not that she would know how to seduce a man. She’d only had two lovers in her life, both of whom had done the seducing. She had absolutely no confidence in bedroom matters, and not a lot of interest these days, either.
Until this moment …
Perhaps her years of celibacy had finally caught up with her. It was the only reason Laura could find for the way she was feeling, so horribly aware of the man sitting next to her. Her sudden vulnerability to him brought a peculiar tension to her body which she could not remember experiencing before. Her shoulders stiffened, then pressed back hard against the seat, her hands twisting together in her lap.
‘Relax, Laura,’ he commanded as the car accelerated away from the kerb and hurtled off down the street. ‘Everything’s going to be fine.’
She wasn’t so sure about that. Even if she got through this weekend with her pride intact she’d have to give Ryan up as a client. She could not bear the thought of going to his office every Friday afternoon with the same kind of feelings running through her that were running through her now.
It wasn’t long, however, before she forgot about her pride and succumbed to the exhilarating and highly seductive experience of riding along in a convertible. Lord, but it was fun, whizzing through the city streets with the sun beating down on her face and the wind in her hair. It was impossible to remain uptight. Soon she relaxed back into the seat, thoroughly enjoying the envious looks on people’s faces as they passed them by. Perhaps it was silly of her to feel pleasure at the misconception that Ryan was her boyfriend, but she couldn’t seem to help it.
‘See?’ Ryan said after a few minutes. ‘I told you you’d enjoy it. Want me to put some music on?’
‘If you like,’ she replied, having to work very hard to keep her voice cool and in no way flirtatious.
‘Tell me what you like,’ he countered. ‘Music wise. I should know your taste in music, don’t you think? And vice versa.’
Laura shrugged. ‘I like just about anything which has a melody, a good beat and interesting words. I’m not into hard metal, or rap. I don’t have a favourite artist or a band. I never was the sort of teenager who went ape over some singer. Unlike Alison who was—and is—simply crazy about Robbie Williams.’
‘Who’s Alison?’
‘My best friend. We went to boarding-school together.’
‘Ah. Perhaps we should leave the music off for now whilst you give me a quick update on your life so far. You don’t have to tell me everything. Just the things you think I should know.’
‘I’m certainly not going to tell you everything,’ she retorted, thinking of Brad and Mario.
And she certainly didn’t mention those two humiliating relationships. But she did tell Ryan about her mother running away from home to Sydney and eventually marrying her father, who’d been a runaway of another kind. Carmelo Ferrugia had been a lawyer, a refugee from Columbia whose first wife and children had been murdered by some very bad people. Carmelo had been twenty years older than her mother, a kind, compassionate man who’d spent the rest of his life helping people in difficulty.
She also told him about their tragic death in a small-plane crash when she’d been only eleven, about her years living up in the Hunter Valley with her grandparents and her time at a Sydney boarding-school.
‘I always knew that I would stay in Sydney as soon as I finished school,’ she added. ‘And that I would become a lawyer, like my dad. I actually worked for legal aid for a while, like he did. But I didn’t like it all that much. I found it a bit … boring.’
‘So you moved on to Harvey, Michaels and Associates.’
‘No, I joined another legal firm first, one which specialised in criminal defence.’
‘You couldn’t have found that boring.’
‘No, I loved it. But I … um …’
‘You what?’
Too late Laura realised where this conversation was heading.
She winced. She hated talking about Mario. Brad had hurt her, but Mario had cut very deep.
‘I had a relationship with a client that ended badly,’ she finally admitted.
‘I see.’
‘I doubt it.’
‘No, I do see. I had a relationship with a client once. That ended badly too. It almost destroyed my business.’
Laura was shocked. ‘What happened?’
‘In a nutshell I had a brief fling with a client. When I broke up with her she did her very libellous best to bring my company—and me—to our knees. It was a close call, I can tell you. Makes you damned careful in future. I’ve never dated a client since. I dare say you feel the same way.’
‘You could say that.’
‘Just as well this isn’t a real date, then. Still, I don’t think I have to worry about your ever getting obsessed with me, Laura.’
Oh, the irony of that remark, she thought as she turned droll eyes his way. ‘I think you’re reasonably safe.’ Provided you don’t do anything stupid like make a pass at me.
His laugh carried real amusement. ‘You know, it’s quite refreshing being in the company of a woman whom you can entirely trust.’
‘Meaning?’ she said a bit more tartly that she meant to.
‘Meaning I would never have offered to pretend to be your boyfriend if I thought you liked me at all. Because let’s face it, Laura, if that was the case this weekend could have complicated our working relationship.’
‘I don’t see how. Even if I liked you, you don’t like me.’
‘Not true, sweetheart. How could I possibly continue to dislike a woman who spent three-thousand dollars saving the life of her poor little puddy-tat?’
‘Oh,’ she said, and then did the unthinkable.
She blushed.
CHAPTER TEN
RYAN could not believe it when Laura’s cheeks flushed a bright red. For a second or two, he was troubled by her reaction. But then he saw it for what it was: a natural response to the unexpected occurence of a man saying something genuinely nice about her.
Ryan suspected that Laura had been short of male compliments over the past few years, particularly with the way she dressed and acted. Clearly, she’d shut down after that disastrous affair she’d had with her client. He would have liked to know a few more details about that affair but knew better than to ask right now.
‘I hope I haven’t said anything out of order,’ he said instead. ‘There’s no reason why I can’t like you, is there?’
To give her credit, she regathered her composure with astonishing speed. ‘Of course not,’ she said with her usual brusqueness. ‘You just took me by surprise, that’s all. And, for what it’s worth, I find I can’t continue to totally dislike a man who would give up his weekend to make my gran happy.’
He had to smile. ‘Careful. We don’t want to get too carried away with the mutual compliments, do we?’
‘You don’t want me to start lying to you, do you?’ she countered tartly.
‘Not till we get to our destination, at which point I think some judicious lying will be necessary, along with some judicious flattery and flirting.’
‘Flirting!’
He almost chuckled at the horror on her face.
‘Absolutely,’ he said with a brilliant poker face. ‘You do know how to flirt, don’t you, Laura?’
‘I’ve never been a flirter. Or a flatterer.’
No, he thought ruefully. You wouldn’t have been.
‘In that case, it’s time you learned. Or are you planning on spending the rest of your life as an old maid?’
She shot him a mutinous look. ‘How I spend the rest of my life is none of your business.’
‘For pity’s sake,’ he snapped, feeling angry with her now. ‘What is it with you? Okay, so some bastard hurt you way back when, obviously very badly. But he’s only one man, not the whole male race. We’re not all rotters. You have to move on, woman. Get back on the horse, so to speak.’
‘Thank you very much!’ she ground out sarcastically.
‘You will, if you do what I say. Look, this weekend is a perfect opportunity for you to learn how to flirt. You can practise on me to your heart’s content without having to put up with any awkward consequences.’
‘No kidding.’
‘You can cut the sarcasm for starters.’
Her sigh sounded … what—weary? Frustrated?
Suddenly he saw that he was being way too forceful. It was a bad habit of his, trying to fix things and to control things. A result maybe of his childhood where everything had been out of his control.
‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I’m being obnoxious, aren’t I?’
‘Very,’ she said.
‘You can tell me to shut up, if you like.’
‘Shut up, Ryan.’
He laughed. ‘I promise not be so bossy when we get to your family’s place.’
‘Don’t change too much,’ she advised him dryly. ‘Gran likes forceful men.’
‘But you don’t, Laura. I’m playing your Mr Right, not your gran’s.’
‘And you think you know what my Mr Right would be like?’ she scoffed.
‘I could hazard a guess.’
‘Do tell.’
‘He’d be a true gentleman, for starters. Slightly old-fashioned in a way. But there’d be no chauvinism in him. He’d treat you wonderfully, like a princess. He’d be passionate, but gentle at the same time. Gentle and protective.’
When he slanted a quick glance her way, he could see that he was right on the mark.
‘What are you?’ she asked with surprise in her voice. ‘A mind reader?’
‘No, but I’m a pretty good listener. I heard the way you described your father and I realised he was your ideal man. I dare say the man who hurt you so badly seemed like your ideal man, but it was only a façade. Underneath, he was anything but.’
Laura’s grim silence touched an empathetic chord inside him. Ryan understood full well that talking about some things did not help. All it did was dredge up old memories which were better left unvisited.
‘Sounds like he was a right bastard,’ he continued. ‘One best forgotten.’
Still, she didn’t say a word.
‘Time for some relaxing distraction, I think,’ he said, and put on the radio.
‘Now put your seat back a little and let some of that tension flow out of your body,’ he ordered. ‘And, before you tell me to shut up again, I think you should know that there’s a small part of every woman who wants a man to be forceful with her when the time is right—which is now. So swallow that sarcastic remark which I’m sure your tongue is itching to deliver and just do what I’m telling you. Okay?’
He was pleased when she didn’t object. In fact, she did exactly as he suggested—put her seat back, closed her eyes and let out a very long sigh. He wasn’t quite sure what was going on inside her head, but soon she began to look a lot more relaxed. In fact, if he wasn’t mistaken, she actually drifted off to sleep. It occurred to him that she might not have slept much the night before, worrying over the weekend ahead.
Still, it was as well that he knew the way north as far as the Hawkesbury river. Otherwise, he might have had to rouse her for directions. If he remembered rightly, the Hawkesbury was about a half-hour drive from where they were at the moment. That would give Laura enough time for a cat nap before he’d be forced to disturb her.
Five minutes later, he turned right onto the motorway where he accelerated up to a more enjoyable speed. The traffic thinned appreciably with the triple lanes and the powerful car ate up the miles. The suburban landscape quickly gave way to thick bushland on either side of the road which had been cut through the rocky hills. In considerably less than the half-hour he’d estimated, Ryan began the long incline which he recalled led down to the river and the small hamlet of Brooklyn.
He’d rented a houseboat there once, on a recommendation from a mate who said it was just the place for a romantic weekend getaway.
Ryan frowned as he struggled to remember the name of the girl he’d brought with him. Strange; that had only been about three years ago. Maybe not even that long. Yet he could not remember her name, or even her face. All that came to mind was his pleasure at being out in the open on the water. And the fact that he’d caught a fish.
He glanced over at Laura for a moment. This weekend would hardly qualify as a real romantic getaway. But Ryan rather suspected that he would never forget it, just as he would never forget Laura Ferrugia.
Ryan smiled wryly at this last thought. Impossible to forget the most irritating female he’d ever met!
CHAPTER ELEVEN
LAURA woke with a start, shocked to find that she’d been asleep for almost an hour and a half.
‘Why didn’t you wake me?’ she demanded to know when she realised the time.
Ryan’s shrug was nonchalant. ‘I figured you needed the rest.’
‘Where are we?’ she said, suddenly aware that they’d left the motorway and were on a single-lane road. Panic set in until she realised they were on the right road, heading for Cessnock. ‘I thought you said you didn’t know the way!’
‘I figured there would have to be signs. When I saw an exit which led to the vineyards, I took it.’
‘You should still have woken me.’
‘Will you stop fussing?’ he said, his voice showing some impatience. ‘We’re not lost.’
‘But we could have been,’ she muttered.
‘And if we had been? It wouldn’t have been the end of the world, Laura. We both have mobile phones. We could have called and explained that we would be a little late.’
‘Maybe, but I don’t want to give Aunt Cynthia any reason to criticise me.’
‘She won’t criticise you with me by your side. She’ll be putty in my hands in no time flat.’
Laura rolled her eyes. The arrogance of the man!
‘Believe it or not,’ he went on with a wry smile curling one corner of his mouth, ‘I have a good track record with the opposite sex. Most women—especially the older ones—find me totally charming.’
Laura didn’t doubt it. But no way could she let him get away with such self-praise without putting a small dent in his insufferable male ego, as well as reminding herself to be on her guard against him at the same time.
‘Which is exactly why I chose you as my Mr Right, Ryan,’ she said in droll tones. ‘Because you have all those superficial qualities which pulls the wool over the eyes of most women. It’s only the once-bitten, eyes-wide-open females like myself who recognise that charm like yours is just so much hogwash.’
He laughed a very dry laugh. ‘And there I was, thinking you were starting to truly warm to me.’
‘In your dreams, Ryan. Now concentrate on the road, please. We’re coming into Cessnock. I’ll direct you from here. It’s a bit tricky getting through the town and out onto the right road.’
He took her directions without a hitch, and they were soon through the old mining town and turning onto the road which would take them to their destination.
‘Not too fast along here,’ she warned him as he whizzed along what probably looked to him a very straight, very good road. ‘After all the rain we’ve had lately, there’ll be a lot of potholes.’
Ryan slowed appreciably, which allowed him to take his eyes off the road occasionally to study the countryside.
‘This is a very pretty area, Laura.’
It was pretty, she conceded, with lots of rolling hills and trees and well-looked-after properties, not all of which were vineyards. Tourism had spawned quite a few plush resorts to cater for holiday makers who enjoyed wine-tasting tours, plus five-star food and accommodation. It was also a popular place to retire to, with several new villages for the over-fifties who wanted to enjoy country living without the hassle of having to do too much work.
‘I guess my view is jaundiced by my not being happy living here.’
‘Just as your view of men is jaundiced by your not having been happy with one.’
Laura’s teeth clenched down hard in her jaw.
‘We all have jaundiced memories, Ryan,’ she countered coolly. ‘I dare say you have some of your own.’
How right you are, sweetheart, Ryan thought with a mixture of annoyance and admiration. She gave as good as she got. But shooting back poisoned darts must get exhausting. He couldn’t wait until they got to her place and she would be forced to behave herself. Maybe even be sweet to him. The mind boggled at how she would handle it when he put his arms around her. Maybe even kissed her. Just for appearance’s sake, of course. Even so, his heartbeat quickened at the thought.
‘How far to go now?’ he asked.
‘Less than a kilometre. Take the next road on your right.’
It was a wider road, recently tarred and with no rough edges or potholes, which he commented on.
‘There’s been a lot of development along this road,’ Laura explained. ‘Several new wineries and a brand-new golf resort built on the land Uncle Bill sold them. We’re just coming to that now on your right.’
‘Wow!’ Ryan exclaimed. ‘That’s some golf course.’
‘It’s not just a golf course, it’s an estate as well. If you buy a house there you get automatic membership to the golf club. But it’ll cost you at least a million. Crafty old Uncle Bill made sure a life membership to the club came with the land deal. He’s crazy about golf. I suppose you are, too. Most sporty men are.’
‘I wouldn’t say I’m crazy about the game, but I like it well enough. To be honest, you have to be able to play golf when you’re in the sport-management business. You’ve no idea how many deals I’ve negotiated on a golf course, especially at the nineteenth hole.’
Laura frowned over at him. ‘I thought there were only eighteen holes?’
Ryan smiled. ‘I see you don’t play golf. The nineteenth hole is the golf club.’
‘Oh, silly me. Slow down a bit; our driveway’s coming up. There …’ Laura pointed a finger to a spot just ahead. ‘Between those two gum trees. You won’t have to stop, the gates are always left open.’
‘I can’t see any house,’ Ryan said, glancing around as he turned into the driveway.
‘That’s because you’re not looking in the right place. That’s it on top of that hill over there.’
His eyes followed the direction of her finger to what was a large two-storey homestead sitting majestically on the crest of a very distant hill. It was rectangular and colonial in style, with a high-pitched roof, and verandahs all the way around, top and bottom. Several chimneys more evidence of real fireplaces, no doubt with elegant hearths to go with the elegant architecture of the building.
‘I thought you said your family wasn’t seriously rich,’ came his rueful remark.
‘They’re not,’ Laura replied.
‘Possibly you and I differ on what ‘seriously rich’ is.’
Unless this property was mortgaged to the hilt, then the owner, in Ryan’s opinion, was seriously rich. The fences around the paddocks were in excellent condition and the cattle grazing on the pastures were fat and healthy looking. Despite his knowledge of country living being confined to watching the occasional programme on TV, Ryan could already see he was looking at money.
‘I presume all the land leading up to the house belongs to your grandmother?’ he asked as they crunched over the gravelly surface.
‘No. The whole property actually belongs to Uncle Bill. My grandfather—dear, sweet man that he was—left everything to his son rather than his wife.’
Ryan frowned. ‘Why would he do that?’
When he glanced over at her, he saw Laura’s face crinkle up in disgust.
‘Because he was of the old school,’ she said sourly. ‘The one which believes that men should rule the world and own all the land.’
Mmm. Perhaps Laura’s man-hating ways started long before that client she slept with. Still, Ryan could understand that a girl of Laura’s intelligence would find it hard to accept her grandfather’s chauvinistic—and decidedly unloving—ways.
‘Was your grandmother very hurt at the time?’ he asked.
‘She was disappointed,’ Laura said. ‘But she didn’t make a fuss, though she should have. I certainly did when Uncle Bill gave her a pitiful allowance out of all the money he’d inherited.’
‘What did you do?’
‘Threatened the bastard that I’d persuade Gran to contest the will if he didn’t give her a decent amount each year. Which he did do, grudgingly.’
‘I’ll bet you weren’t too popular for a while.’
‘I’ve never been popular with the men on this side of my family,’ she replied.
Ryan laughed. ‘I wonder why?’
‘Why should I suck up to the opposite sex?’ she asserted with her usual stroppiness. ‘I’m as good as they are.’
‘Yes, well, just remember that for the next couple of days you’re playing the part of a woman in love.’
The expression on her face when he said this was worth all the money in China.
‘I knew this was a terrible idea,’ she muttered. ‘I don’t know what possessed me to do it.’
‘Pride possessed you.’
‘Yes, you’re right,’ she said with a deeply weary sigh. ‘Good old pride—one of the seven deadly sins.’
She looked so dispirited all of a sudden that Ryan felt genuinely sorry for her.
‘Not just pride, Laura,’ he said gently. ‘Kindness too. Let’s not forget that. We’re here to make your gran happy. What does it matter if you’re forced out of your comfort zone for a couple of days? It’s not like it will last for ever. Let me do most of the talking. You just smile and agree to everything I say. Which I know will be extremely difficult for you,’ he added before she could say a single word. ‘But it’s all in a good cause.’
She was quiet for a long moment, but then she nodded. ‘I’ll do my best.’
‘Good.’
Good!
Laura felt anything but good every time she looked at the man. She wanted to hit him for making her find him so darned attractive all of a sudden.
It wasn’t pride that was possessing her at this moment. It was another of the seven deadly sins, one that terrified the life out of her.
Laura was not intimately acquainted with lust, had never been held in its thrall before. Both Brad and Mario had seduced her into their beds, and she’d gone out of the need to be loved, not the need to have sex with them.
But she wanted to have sex with Ryan. It was a most disturbing thought. Her sigh carried regret that she’d ever thought of this charade in the first place. Regret too that she’d given in to Ryan’s suggestion and bought that sexy red dress.
Alison had spelled it out for her. That dress was the sort which would get an octogenarian’s hormones up and going. And Ryan was a lot younger and hornier than that. It worried her, what might happen if he did make a pass at her tonight?
‘Come now, Laura,’ Ryan said with a touch of exasperation in his voice. ‘Anyone would think you were going to your execution.’
An execution would be preferable to ending up in bed with you, Laura thought, keeping her eyes firmly off his corrupting body and on the road ahead. She tried thinking of what he’d just said, about this all being in a good cause, but nothing could unwind the knots of tension in her stomach. The niggling fear she’d had that this weekend would end in disaster became steadily magnified as they drew closer to the house. The sight of her Aunt Cynthia standing on the verandah waiting for them reminded her of that other fear she’d had earlier today—the fear that they’d be put in the same bedroom for the night!
CHAPTER TWELVE
ONE look at Aunt Cynthia gave Ryan a clue as to why Laura was so tense.
The woman was formidable looking to say the least, tall and solidly built, with a manner of the sergeant major about her as she stood there at the top of the front steps with her arms folded over her battleship bosom and her thick-ankled legs slightly apart. The skirt and top she was wearing was battleship grey as well. Possibly in her late fifties, she had very short, tightly curled blonde hair—probably permed and dyed—large facial features and the hint of a moustache above her thinly pressed lips. Her eyes were small and closely set, widening slightly as Ryan braked the convertible to a halt at the bottom on the front steps.
‘Don’t you dare get out of this car,’ Ryan muttered under his breath as Laura automatically reached for the door handle.
When her eyes jerked round to his he bestowed a one-thousand-kilowatt smile upon her, then bent over to graze her right cheek with his lips.
‘Just do as I say,’ he whispered at the same time. ‘And smile, for pity’s sake.’
She didn’t smile, he noted. But she did as he said, staying put while he exited the car and strode round to open the door for her like a gentleman of the old school. Ryan deliberately didn’t look up at Aunt Cynthia until Laura was standing up, her hand safely enclosed in his.
By then he was gratified to see true surprise on the woman’s face, along with an almost welcoming smile. She’d even unfolded her arms by the time he dragged Laura up onto the verandah with him. Thankfully, the woman was staring at him and not at her rather robotic niece.
‘You must be Aunt Cynthia,’ he said, beaming broadly. ‘What a lovely place you have here!’
When she stepped forward to extend her hand, her beady eyes, which turned out to be a faded blue, actually sparkled at him.
‘We think so. It’s so nice to meet you at last, Mr Armstrong.’
Ryan shook her hand with his right hand, at the same time keeping his left tightly clasped around Laura’s lest she bolt for it. Which she just might do, judging by the tension in her fingers.
‘Call me Ryan, please,’ he insisted warmly. ‘And perhaps you’d allow me to call you Cynthia? After all, you’re way too young to be my aunt.’
‘Oh, go on with you,’ she simpered in return, her cheeks going pink with pleasure as her free hand fluttered up to touch her hair.
Laura could not believe it—Aunt Cynthia, actually blushing. The man was a menace all right. But this was why she’d brought him with her today, wasn’t it? To see this kind of reaction from her family, and Aunt Cynthia most of all. It was worth taking the risk of making a fool of herself with him in private to experience this moment of public satisfaction.
When her aunt turned stunned eyes towards her, Laura found a slightly smug smile along with a surge of confidence.
‘He is gorgeous, isn’t he?’ she said.
Ryan was momentarily thrown, not only by Laura’s compliment but by the smoky voice she used.
Wow, he thought. A guy could get used to her talking to him like that. Of course, he knew it was just an act, but a very convincing one. It looked like he didn’t have to worry about her making a hash of their charade.
‘Thank you, darling,’ he said, giving her hand a little squeeze. ‘You’re so sweet.’
Laura almost laughed out loud at the look on her aunt’s face. Dear, but it was priceless! Like she had something stuck in her throat.
‘How’s Gran doing?’ Laura asked whilst her aunt was still floundering.
Cynthia blinked. ‘What? Oh … Er, not too badly.’
‘Can we go and see her straight away?’
‘Perhaps we should take our things in first,’ Ryan suggested. ‘I’d like to freshen up as well.’
‘Yes, yes, of course,’ Cynthia said, quickly recovering her composure to play the perfect hostess, gushing over the car whilst Ryan collected their luggage. He carried Laura’s bag as well as his own, though he left Laura with the coat-hangered dress to carry, along with his dinner suit, which was also underneath a plastic cover. Ryan was glad now that he’d brought a suit with him, rather than more casual clothes. It wasn’t a tux, just a dark grey, single-breasted number which looked good on him and fitted in with any occasion.
The house was as grand inside as out, Ryan noted, with a wide foyer covered in black-and-white tiles an elaborately carved hall-stand which had to be an antique, and an impressive curved staircase made of a rich red wood.
‘It’s cedar,’ Cynthia informed Ryan proudly when he asked about it. ‘There’s quite a lot of cedar in this house,’ she continued as she led the way upstairs. ‘The house was built back in the thirties before the war almost ruined everyone, the racing industry as well. Did Laura tell you this was once one of the most successful racehorse studs in Australia? No, of course she didn’t,’ the woman rattled on before Ryan could reply. ‘Laura’s not all that interested in this place or its traditions.
‘Now I didn’t put you in your usual room, Laura,’ she threw over her shoulder towards her niece who was trailing a little behind. ‘It’s way too small for two people. Shane and Lisa aren’t staying the night, so I made up the main guestroom for you,’
she said, opening a brass-handled door on their right with a flourish.
Ryan heard Laura make a small choking sound which, thank heavens, her aunt didn’t seem to notice, perhaps because she was busy bragging about the people who’d once slept in the very large four-poster bed which dominated the room. She mentioned a past prime minister, as well as a governor general, a couple of English aristocrats and a Hollywood star along with her very wealthy lover.
‘This house has a lot of history,’ she finished up by saying.
‘It’s a very beautiful house,’ Ryan complimented, having dropped both their bags by the door to wander across the room to the French doors which led out onto the verandah. ‘And a very beautiful room.’
He turned to see a pale-faced Laura still standing in the doorway, staring over at the bed. ‘But Gran won’t like us staying in the same bedroom,’ she suddenly blurted out.
Cynthia made a dismissive gesture with her hand. ‘Jane doesn’t need to know,’ she said airily. ‘She’s not allowed to walk up the stairs any more.’
‘So where’s she sleeping?’ Laura asked as she entered the room and draped the coathangers over the back of a chair.
‘We’ve refurbished the old servants’ quarters for her.’
‘The servants’ quarters!’ Laura exclaimed, her face flushing.
‘Before you blow a gasket, missy,’ her aunt said sharply, ‘Jane is very happy with the arrangements. So don’t you go making a fuss and making her unhappy.’
‘Laura would never do or say anything to make her gran unhappy,’ Ryan defended her, moving over to put a protective arm around Laura, warning her with a sharp squeeze not to lose her temper.
‘Yes, I do appreciate that, Ryan,’ Cynthia said through slightly pursed lips. ‘But Laura has the bad habit of opening her mouth before her brain is in gear.’
‘She can be a bit impulsive,’ he said, tightening his arm again around her shoulders. ‘But she always has people’s best interests at heart. Especially her gran’s.’
‘I suppose so. But, as I said, Jane won’t find out unless you tell her. Of course, if you’d prefer to have separate rooms, then …’
‘Absolutely not!’ Ryan broke in forcefully. ‘I’ve been dying to get Laura away for a romantic weekend together. And, let’s face it, that bed has romance written all over it.’
Laura might have enjoyed the flash of envy on her aunt’s face if she hadn’t been in a state of complete panic. Her worst fear had come about, that of having to share a bed with Ryan. It was bad enough having to stand where she was with his arm wrapped tightly around her shoulders, but at least they were dressed, and there was someone else in the room. How would she be able to cope lying side by side whilst wearing next to nothing with no one else in the room to stop … To stop what, exactly?
Laura knew full well that Ryan would never force himself on her. So what was she afraid of?
Herself again, of course. That self which even now was trembling inside at his touch.
‘Now, my dears, I really must go downstairs and tell Jane you’ve arrived,’ her aunt said brightly. ‘I thought since it’s such a nice day we could have afternoon tea together out on the back verandah. Could you join us there in, say, fifteen minutes?’
‘No trouble,’ Ryan said when Laura remained silent. ‘See you shortly.’
The moment Cynthia closed the door after her, Laura twisted out of his hold. ‘That woman is just so impossible!’ she exclaimed heatedly. ‘Fancy just presuming we’d want to share a room.’
‘It’s perfectly logical that we would,’ Ryan said. ‘It’s not as though we’re teenagers, Laura. We’re an adult couple, having an adult relationship. Of course we’d be sleeping together.’
‘But we aren’t, damn it! And now we’ll have to—actually sleep together, that is. I mean, just look around you. There’s nowhere else to sleep in here except on the floor.’
‘Well you can count me out on that one,’ Ryan said, marching over to lift his bag up and carry it over to the bed, where he dumped it down on top of the richly embroidered red-velvet quilt. ‘I’m not sleeping on any wooden floor. Look, this is a very big bed. You can put some pillows down the middle if you like. That should stop me from accidentally brushing up against your very desirable female body and ravaging you on the spot. Which is exactly what you’re thinking, isn’t it? That I might not be able to control myself.’
Laura just stared at him for a long moment, before dropping her eyes and shaking her head irritably. ‘That’s not what I was thinking at all.’
‘Really? What were you thinking, then? And don’t say nothing. You are never thinking nothing, Laura.’
She turned and walked over to collect her own bag, wheeling it across the room before hoisting it up onto the bed on the opposite side to where he was.
Her eyes, when they finally lifted to meet his, were decidedly mutinous. ‘I don’t have to tell you what I’m thinking. And I don’t have to sleep in the same bed as you. I’ll sleep on the damned floor if I have to.’
Ryan scowled at her. She was one seriously irritating woman! ‘Be my guest,’ he said. ‘Just try to do it quietly. I don’t want to be kept awake with your moaning and groaning.’
‘I don’t ever moan and groan,’ she snapped.
Ryan gave her a droll look. ‘Now that I can believe.’
‘Very funny,’ she bit out.
‘Actually, I’m not finding any of this at all funny,’ he shot back. ‘To be perfectly honest, I wish to God I’d never made this ridiculous offer in the first place. I must have had rocks in my head if I thought I could bring off pretending to be your Mr Right.’
The moment the words were out of his mouth, Ryan regretted them. Not that she didn’t deserve some criticism—she wasn’t making his job easy—but he hated seeing the crestfallen expression on her face. Hated having hurt her like that.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said straight away. ‘That was uncalled for.’
‘No no,’ she said, shaking her head unhappily. ‘You had every right to say what you did. The way I’m acting … It’s silly and, well, it’s just plain silly.’
‘Then you won’t be sleeping on the floor?’
‘No,’ she said, her chin lifting in an oddly defiant gesture as though it was a big deal, agreeing to share the bed with him.
‘Good. Now I have a very important question to ask you before we go downstairs for afternoon tea.’
‘What?’ she replied, looking worried again.
‘Where’s the bathroom?’
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
LAURA showed him the door which led into an absolutely huge bathroom, the like of which would never have been seen in a modern house. There was a claw-footed bath sitting against the far wall of the black-and-white-tiled room, a brass-framed shower stall in a corner to its right, a toilet behind the door and a large marble-topped vanity table which had an equally large mirror on the wall above it.
‘Wow!’ Ryan said. ‘I don’t think I’ve seen a bathroom quite like this one before.’
‘It is rather old-fashioned,’ Laura said.
‘Maybe, but I like it.’
‘That other door there—’ Laura pointed out before she left ‘—opens out onto the main hallway, so don’t forget to throw the lock or you might have an unwanted visitor.’ Though she couldn’t imagine who. Uncle Bill and Aunt Cynthia would be the only others sleeping upstairs tonight, and the master bedroom was at the other end of the hallway, complete with its own private bathroom.
‘Fine,’ Ryan said and Laura left him to it, relieved when he closed the door and left her alone in the bedroom. It would be good to be away from his disturbing presence, even for a short while, give her the chance to calm the butterflies in her stomach and to find some much-needed composure.
Unpacking her bag, however, didn’t help much, especially when confronted by the pink satin nightie she’d brought with her. Whilst not overly provocative, it was still rather low-cut, with spaghetti-thin straps. At least she’d had the foresight to pack the matching robe, though she could hardly wear that to bed, could she?
Her stomach contracted at the thought of how she would feel, sleeping next to Ryan tonight. She wouldn’t be getting much sleep, that was for sure.
He emerged from the bathroom and she took the opportunity to escape.
‘I won’t be long,’ she said, snatching up her toilet bag and dashing past him.
Ryan shook his head at her body language. He wondered what he could say or do to calm her down. It wasn’t afternoon tea that she needed, he decided as he hung up his suit and unpacked the rest of his things, but a good, stiff drink. Either that or …
Ryan chuckled with dry amusement. It would be a bit difficult to relax Laura with some sex if just the thought of sharing a bed platonically with him horrified the life out of her. Which it obviously did.
The idea that she might not trust him to keep his hands off irked Ryan a little. What had he ever done to her? Okay, so he probably had a reputation around Sydney as a bit of womaniser. But he wasn’t a sleazebag, or a cheat.
Not that making a pass at Laura would make him a cheat, given he and Erica had now split up. But that was beside the point. Even if he fancied Laura—which he didn’t, not really—no way would he want to start something this weekend that could only cause him trouble in the future. Laura was a valued work colleague. She was also of a much more vulnerable nature than Ryan had realised.
To contemplate seducing her, even out of a perverse sort of compassion, went totally against his rules. Not that Laura would let him seduce her, he conceded ruefully. She would have to be attracted to him a little to do that, which she obviously wasn’t, so why was he even having this stupid conversation with himself?
The bathroom door opened and she came out, looking a little less harried. Which was just as well, since he was beginning to run out of patience with her.
‘Don’t forget what I said about smiling,’ Ryan advised brusquely as they made their way down the curving staircase ten minutes later. When she didn’t say anything in reply, he stopped at the foot of the stairs to throw her a firm look.
‘Come on, show me some of those nice white teeth you have.’
When Laura attempted a smile, Ryan scowled. ‘Good God, is that the best you can do, woman?’
Laura winced. ‘Sorry. I guess I’m nervous.’
‘Lord knows why, with me by your side.’
‘Are you always this incorrigibly egotistical?’ she demanded to know.
Ryan shrugged. ‘I suppose so. It comes with the territory of having been a successful goalkeeper. You have to have total confidence in your abilities or you’re dead in the water, because you’re alone out there. You can’t let a single negative thought creep in or you’re done and dusted. But you’re not alone today, Laura. You have me to help you. Though you still do need to help yourself. So, smile and make it convincing.’
She smiled, but she still didn’t look like a woman in love.
‘Only marginally better,’ he said, feeling totally exasperated with her and with himself for being so affected by her. ‘Here, give me your hand.’
When she hesitated, he suddenly grabbed both her hands then yanked her hard against him.
‘The trouble with you, madam,’ he ground out as he glared down into her shocked eyes, ‘Is that you’ve been way too long between men. And kisses.’
He didn’t mean to do it. Hell, he didn’t mean to manhandle her in any way, shape or form. But all of a sudden his much-valued control slipped and his mouth came crashing down on hers.
For a split second, Laura froze. This was what she’d feared after all, Ryan making a pass at her at some stage. Not that you could call what he was doing a pass. It was more of an onslaught. He even dragged her hands behind her back and pressed them into the small of her back, forcing her breasts against the hard wall of his chest.
Laura knew at the back of her whirling mind that she could still escape his captive embrace if she chose to. All she had to do was lift her knee into his groin and he’d let her go, quick smart. But she didn’t lift her knee or do anything else. Instead, she just stood there and let him do what he was doing. She didn’t fight him. She didn’t even make a sound.
But the moment he pried her lips apart and sent his tongue deep into her mouth she definitely did make a sound.
It was a moan, soft and throaty and full of sensual surrender.
Ryan moaned too, though not quite so softly. For a few more mad moments, the impassioned ravaging of her mouth continued before he abruptly wrenched his lips off hers, stepping back to stare down at her with shocked eyes. His prominent cheekbones had spots of red slashed across them, and his chest was rising and falling in a ragged rhythm.
Laura hated to think what she looked like, standing there with eyes wide and the back of a trembling hand lifting to hide her still-burning lips. ‘Stunned’ did not begin to describe her own feelings. How could she possibly have liked what he had done? Yet she had—more than liked, actually. She’d thrilled to his forcefulness. Even now the heat he’d evoked was still charging through her veins. She tried to feel ashamed of what she’d just allowed and enjoyed. Tried to feel angry with him. But she couldn’t, and didn’t. How utterly and perversely amazing!
Suddenly he smiled, a warm, tender smile which confused her even more.
‘I don’t think you dislike me as much as you think you do,’ he said as he stepped forward to take her still-flushed face within the cradle of his large palms.
Before Laura could say a single word in her own defence, he was kissing her again, a much gentler kiss this time but still deep, his soft lips and less-savage tongue seducing her just as easily as the first time. Somehow her arms found themselves clamped around his waist as she rose up onto her toes, pressing herself harder against him.
‘Oh!’ a female voice exclaimed from somewhere near them.
‘Don’t move,’ Ryan muttered into her startled mouth before she could spring back from him.
With considerable savoir faire he casually dropped his hands to her hips and turned her round. Laura tried to match his nonchalant attitude at being caught kissing, but she could still feel her face flaming. Fortunately, however, Aunt Cynthia seemed to be worrying about her own embarrassment, not her niece’s.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she blurted out. ‘I just came to see what was keeping you. I didn’t mean to, er, um …’
‘It’s perfectly all right, Cynthia,’ Ryan said smoothly. ‘We’re the ones who should be saying sorry for keeping you waiting.’ And he gave Laura’s right hip an affectionate little squeeze.
Laura didn’t say a word; her throat was as dry as parchment and her thoughts in total disarray.
‘I fully understand,’ Cynthia said, gushing at him again. ‘But Jane is very anxious to meet you, as you can imagine.’
‘And I to meet her,’ Ryan returned. ‘Do please lead the way, and we’ll be hot on your heels.’
During the short walk from the front entrance hall to the back verandah of the house—during which Ryan took her hand firmly in his—Laura struggled to get her composure back.
It was difficult; her head was all over the shop.
Seeing her gran, however, sitting there on the back verandah in a wheelchair, was enough to push aside any worry over what had just happened. Laura’s heart contracted at how fragile she looked. Fragile and old.
‘Hello, Gran,’ she said softly, extracting her hand from Ryan’s as she bent to kiss her grandmother on the cheek. ‘How are you feeling?’
‘Fine, love, just fine. Now that you’re both safely here,’ she added, glancing up at Ryan. ‘So this is the young man you’ve been telling me about.’
Laura could not help feeling proud of Ryan as her grandmother’s still-sharp grey eyes raked over him, no doubt taking in everything from his face, to his clothes, to his impressively built body.
‘You’ve done well this time, granddaughter,’ she said, smiling with obvious approval. ‘How do you do, Mr Armstrong?’ she added, and held out one very thin, wrinkly hand towards him.
He cupped it gently within both of his. ‘I will do very well, ma’am, provided you call me Ryan and not Mr Armstrong.’
‘Of course … Ryan,’ she agreed, her smile turning a little coy. ‘But only if you promise to call me Jane. Now, sit down here next to me and tell me all about yourself.’
Ryan laughed, but he sat as ordered. ‘You must be planning on a long afternoon tea, Jane.’
‘I’m planning on finding out if your character matches your good looks,’ she shot back without missing a beat.
‘Gran!’ Laura exclaimed, slightly horrified at her grandmother’s directness.
‘It’s all right, darling,’ Ryan reassured her with a warm smile. ‘I have nothing to hide. Besides, if I know you, you’ve already told your gran everything about me.’
‘Well, yes, I suppose I have.’
‘Then there’s nothing to worry about, is there?’
Nothing except that you just kissed me twice and reduced me to mush both times!
Don’t think about that, Laura, she lectured herself. Think of the reason you did this in the first place. Think of making Gran happy, even if only for this weekend.
It actually turned out to be rather interesting, listening to Ryan’s answers to her grandmother’s many questions. Laura soon realised that, whilst she knew about Ryan’s sporting and business successes, she knew very little about his family background, except that at some stage he’d been brought up by his grandmother. It turned out he was the only child of a single mother, born and bred in the Western suburbs of Sydney. His father had done a bunk before he was born and his mother had died of breast cancer when she’d been only thirty-four, leaving him to be raised by his maternal grandmother who’d been a widow and lived on a pension.
‘She had very little but what she had she gave to me,’ he said with a slight catch in his voice. ‘She was a wonderful woman. I loved her to death.’
‘I presume she’s passed on now?’ her gran asked quietly.
‘Many years ago, actually. Before I began to earn big money. She never saw me play for any of the famous European teams, though she did see my local team win a few grand finals when I was a teenager. Not that she actually saw them,’ he said with a wry chuckle. ‘She used to get so nervous that she would walk around the fields watching other games rather than mine. Then, whenever a loud cheer went up, she’d race back to see if it was my team scoring or the other one.’
‘I used to get nervous watching Shane play soccer,’ Cynthia piped up as she offered Ryan a plate of lamingtons. ‘Shane’s my son. Did Laura tell you that he’s coming to dinner tonight just to see you? You’re one of his soccer heroes.’
Ryan smiled as he took one of the cakes. ‘She did mention it.’
‘I hope you don’t mind.’
‘Not at all.’
And that was how the afternoon tea continued, with Ryan being charming in the extreme and Laura sitting there in the late-afternoon sunshine, basking in her grandmother’s approval.
She could not help looking at him all the time and thinking how incredibly handsome he was. Handsome and sexy.
Before long she started playing some crazy ‘if only’s in her head.
If only Ryan was her real Mr Right and not a pretend one.
If only his kisses from a while ago actually meant something to him.
If only he wasn’t the kind of two-timing womaniser who was obviously not beyond taking advantage of the situation to try to get into her pants.
Alison had been right about that, Laura conceded with a twist in her heart.
But, even as this brutal truth hit home, she had difficulty ignoring the fact that she’d not only enjoyed his kisses, she wanted more. More kisses. More of everything a man like Ryan had to offer.
He would be a good lover; she could see that by his kisses. Wildly passionate, but tender and gentle as well. Brad had been an ignorant and selfish lover, uncaring of her pleasure. Mario hadn’t been all that much better. Neither of them had ever kissed her the way Ryan had just kissed her, like he was a man dying of thirst in the desert and she was a sweet spring which would bring him back to life. At the same time, she had responded in a way she never had before—boldly. Brazenly. Blindly.
Laura knew that if they shared a bed tonight and he tried to seduce her she would be his for the taking. In every way.
This last thought truly shocked Laura. He already had a girlfriend, hadn’t he?
But it didn’t change a thing. This was why lust was one of the seven deadly sins, she realised—one of the strongest. One which called to the dark side which lurked in every person, which banished conscience in the selfish search for carnal pleasures.
Now, as she looked over at him, she started stripping him in her mind, seeing him naked and looming over her in bed tonight. He would be big down there, she fantasised. Big, powerful and forceful. She would cry out when he entered her, and moan when he began to move. Already she could feel him there, inside her, filling her totally, taking her to places that she’d never been before.
Laura had never had an orgasm during actual intercourse before. But she would with Ryan; she just knew she would.
Such thinking took her breath away. What was happening to her here?
Thank God she didn’t love him. Because, if she did, she would have been doomed.
Suddenly, she realised that her grandmother was talking to her.
‘What was that, Gran?’ she said as she lifted the tea cup to her lips and drained the rest of the stone-cold tea.
‘I suggested you take Ryan for a walk around the property before it gets too late. It’s lovely down by the creek at sunset and there should be a good one today.’
‘All right,’ Laura agreed. How could she possibly do anything else?
‘Come and see me when you return,’ her gran continued. ‘I’d like to talk to you. Alone, if you don’t mind, Ryan.’
‘Not at all.’
‘Bill will be home soon,’ Cynthia said. ‘He plays golf on the course next door every Saturday afternoon but he promised to come straight home after the game. Should be here by four-thirty—five at the latest, he said. You and he could have a game of billiards before dinner, Ryan. That is, if you play billiards?’
‘I certainly do.’
Jane chuckled. ‘I dare say you’re good at it too.’
Ryan smiled. ‘I’m good at most sports and games.’
Was sex a sport to him? Laura wondered ruefully. Or a game?
‘Come on then, darling,’ he went on as he stood up. ‘Let’s get going before the sun goes down.’
Suddenly, Laura didn’t want to be alone with him. Certainly not down at the creek which was a very private spot, totally out of sight of everyone. She had little option, however, but to stand up and do exactly what had been suggested. To refuse would have seemed odd.
He took her hand, as she knew he would, and she didn’t object, as she knew she wouldn’t. No doubt they looked like lovers, strolling down the hill together, hand in hand. But love had nothing to do with the feelings which were zooming through Laura. She tried to say something, anything at all. But she remained silent. Ryan didn’t say anything, either. When they reached the shelter of the trees which lined the creek, he let go of her hand and turned to face her.
‘Tell me what you’re thinking.’
She dragged in a deep breath which she exhaled slowly as she assembled her thoughts. No way could she tell him what she was really thinking. But she had to make some comment to excuse the way she’d responded to his kisses.
‘I’m thinking you were right about my being too long between men. And kisses.’
He frowned. ‘So you’re saying that that’s why you enjoyed my kissing you as much as you obviously did? Because you’re sexually frustrated?’
She kept her eyes cool. ‘It seems a logical explanation, don’t you think?’
‘True. But I can hardly make the same claim. I certainly haven’t been five years without a woman. But I sure as hell enjoyed kissing you, Laura. Maybe Erica was right after all. And so were you.’
‘About what?’
‘You said I didn’t know women as much as I thought I did. Erica actually went off her brain when I told her what I was doing this weekend. Accused me of fancying you.’
‘Really?’
‘Yep. I got so mad at her that I broke up with her on the spot.’
‘You did?’ Lord, but she shouldn’t have been quite so happy about that. But she was. Oh yes, she definitely was. How stupid could she get?
‘Sure did,’ he confirmed. ‘I didn’t want to say so earlier on because I thought it might cause you some worry. But she was right, wasn’t she? I do fancy you.’
‘Really?’ Now she was even happier! Until she remembered that Ryan fancying a woman meant next to nothing. He’d obviously fancied Erica and look what happened to her.
‘Yes, really. But my fancying you is not a good idea, Laura.’
‘Why?’ Oh Laura, Laura, did you have to sound so disappointed when you said that?
His eyes showed that she’d betrayed herself to a degree.
‘You are a work colleague and I do not date work colleagues,’ he stated.
‘I see,’ she said, not quite so happy now.
‘You wouldn’t want to date a man like me anyway,’ he ground out. ‘I’m not what you want. Or what you need.’
Laura shook her head from side to side. ‘I’m not sure what I want or need any more.’
‘Then let me remind you: you want a man who’ll love you, marry you and give you children. That man will never be me, Laura. Because that’s not what I want.’
Laura frowned at this last statement. What had happened to Ryan in the past that he never dared to risk getting emotionally involved with anyone? Something must have happened, because it wasn’t natural to shun love. Everyone wanted to love and be loved.
‘And why is that?’ she couldn’t resist asking. ‘What have you got against love and marriage and children?’
‘Absolutely nothing,’ he bit out. ‘It’s just not for me. Look, it’s as well that we’ve had this little talk. I would hate to think that I would do something tonight which we would both regret. Under the circumstances, I think you should ask Cynthia to put me in a separate bedroom when we get back.’
Laura sucked in air sharply. ‘But I can’t do that!’
‘Why not?’
‘Because I just can’t!’
His eyes narrowed on her, with a glint of wicked humour. ‘Is this your pride speaking, or something else? Don’t tell me you’ve been secretly attracted to me all this time?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ she snapped. ‘No one was more surprised than I when I reacted the way I did when you kissed me.’
‘I wouldn’t say that,’ Ryan said dryly. ‘I was pretty surprised myself. Okay, so it’s a matter of pride. In that case I won’t ask for a separate room, but I think I will sleep on the floor. I don’t trust myself to keep my hands off you if we share a bed. Hell on earth, woman, stop looking at me like that!’
‘How am I looking at you?’ she asked, trying to sound innocent but feeling anything but. She didn’t want him to sleep on the floor. And she certainly didn’t want him to keep his hands to himself.
‘Don’t try to play games with me, Laura. I’m way out of your league in the games department. Erica called me a libertine.’
‘I don’t believe you’re a libertine at all,’ she said, feeling angry with Erica for saying such a nasty thing. ‘A libertine doesn’t care about people’s feelings. You obviously care about mine to warn me off you. A libertine would just take what he wanted without a second thought.’
‘Would he now?’
For a split second, his eyes grew so cold that a shiver ran down Laura’s spine. But then he whirled away from her and strode over to the edge of the creek. She stared after him, not knowing what to say or do. So she just stood there and waited. Eventually, the sun dipped down behind the hills and the air turned suddenly cool, at which point he turned and walked back towards her.
‘Let’s get back,’ he said, and grabbed her hand once more.
But there was nothing warm or affectionate in his grip. She could feel anger in his fingers, but wasn’t sure who he was more angry with, her or himself.
‘I promise I won’t look at you like that any more,’ she said during their hurried walk up the hill.
‘Good,’ he snapped. ‘And I promise I won’t bloody well kiss you any more!’
The free sample has ended.
