Misbehaving Under the Mistletoe (Mills & Boon M&B): On the First Night of Christmas... / Secrets of the Rich & Famous / Truth-Or-Date.com (Mb)

by Heidi Rice

  Andy stretched out her hand. ‘Goodbye, Miles Gibson. And thanks for the business tips.’

  Miles inhaled the heady atmosphere of the dusty museum and the light floral perfume that Andy wore and tasted the slight tang that came with the possibility that his fine plans were about to be scuppered.

  She was serious! She was actually turning him down.

  There had to be some way to persuade her to change her mind and agree to be his date. What did she want? There had to be something. And just as that thought popped into his brain she shuffled her shoulder bag higher and the corner of one of her greeting-card folders popped out of the top.

  And then he had it.

  Her artwork.

  That was it. He was going to fuel the fire of her passion by offering her the one thing that could make a difference. Fire for fire. A date in exchange for her heart’s desire. He knew that her passion would never allow her to turn down an offer like that.

  His fingers closed around hers and his mouth curled into a warm smile as her smooth-skinned, cool, clever fingers moved against his. ‘Thank you, Andromeda Davies, and it was my pleasure.’ But instead of releasing her, he kept hold of her hand as though reluctant to let her go, and although she coughed and glanced down at her fingers he did not move an inch.

  ‘You asked me earlier what I wanted from you, and do you know, I never did answer your question. How very rude of me. Do you still want to know my answer?’ He paused, knowing that he had her full attention, then moved half a step closer and pressed a fingertip to her lips just as Andy was about to reply.

  ‘One of the reasons I am in London is to attend the annual Sports Personality Award show. Cory Sports is the main sponsor. And I need a date for the evening. That’s why Jason signed me up with the online dating agency.’

  And he lifted his eyebrows and grinned. ‘If you don’t want to eat dinner with me, how about going to the awards show as my date for the evening?’

  ‘Your date at the sports awards? You? Miles Gibson?’ Andy asked, her eyes wide with disbelief.

  ‘Hell, yes. And only the best for you, girl. Top table all the way. From what I am paying that celebrity chef we should have a decent meal. Couple of glasses of wine. And if my memory serves me correctly you would be sitting next to that film actor who does his own stunts in the Bond movies. You know the one?’ Miles sniffed. ‘I shall take that squeak to be a yes. The athletes will want to talk sport but I am sure you can cope for a few hours before we hit the real party. What do you say? Are you willing to take a risk on having a brilliant time?’

  ‘Are you on medication?’

  ‘No … well, actually, yes. But only at night so I can sleep for a few hours.’

  ‘Thought so. Miles, I don’t know the first thing about sport. I hate having my photograph taken and I would probably be asleep with my head on the table after a couple of glasses of wine. This is not a good look when you are the sponsor and probably have several members of the royal family presenting awards. Thank you, but I am so not the girl you want to have as your date for a prestigious event like this.’

  Miles was silent for a few seconds, his gaze flitting across her face. Then he took both of her hands in his, flashed a closed-mouth smile and tilted his head slightly to one side.

  ‘Two royal princes, plus several radio and TV presenters. And as it happens, I would be honoured to have you on my arm for the evening.’

  That seemed to knock the wind out of her sails and he seized the opportunity to dive in before she could bluster another refusal.

  ‘Why not come along and have some fun? It’s the perfect opportunity for you to meet the great and good of the sporting world. The after-show party can go on all night and there will be plenty of famous names there. I know, I won it a couple of years ago.’

  Andy looked at him, wide eyed, as though he had just suggested running down the street wearing nothing but a cheeky grin and a pair of red stilettos.

  ‘Fun? Perhaps it sounds like fun to you, but to me it is my worst possible nightmare.’

  ‘Why? These celebrities are just people, the same as you and I.’

  ‘Celebrities? That award ceremony has television crews, reporters and paparazzi six feet deep at the red carpet. If I went to an event like that I would be the wallflower who sneaks off to the kitchens to get some peace and quiet.’

  Andy took a breath and shuddered for effect. ‘Thank you for the invitation but that is not my kind of scene. At all. You can tell me all about it when you get back and I’ll watch the highlights on TV. Have a nice time.’

  ‘I intend to. But I didn’t explain myself. You wouldn’t be in the kitchens, and there is no way that you could ever be mistaken for a wallflower. Oh, no. I would never let you out of my sight for a second.’

  Andy flung her arms out wide. ‘You are still not listening. You need a glamorous sleek girl like that gorgeous blonde Jason was talking to just now.’

  ‘Ah.’ Miles nodded, his brow creased. ‘The lovely Tiffany. Great girl, but unfortunately her talents did not extend to filing anything other than her nails and she cried when my dear brother asked her to coordinate the press for the award ceremony on Saturday night. Actually cried.’

  ‘Stop it,’ she said, trying not to laugh, and waggled her hands at him. ‘I’m not sleek. I’m one of the ordinary girls who actually runs the place but from behind the scenes. Just the thought of those cameras pointing at me when I totter down a red carpet gives me palpitations.’ And she gave a loud sigh and leant back on the balustrade, eyes closed.

  ‘Andy,’ he said in his best melted-chocolate voice, and as she half opened one eye he shuffled forwards, his gaze fixed on her face. And the look he was giving her was so absolutely carnivorous that she forgot to breathe.

  ‘Don’t let anyone tell you that you are ordinary. From what I have seen, you are one of the most extraordinary women I have ever met. And as for sleek?’ His lips lifted into a smile that sent hot flames to warm the pit of her stomach. ‘Sleek is much overrated in my opinion. I’m looking for more than sleek. I’m looking for real.’

  Heat shimmered in the air and she could almost hear the clock chiming in the gallery in the cutting silence that separated her from Miles.

  ‘Are we still talking about the date?’ she finally murmured, his hot gaze still burning her face.

  ‘What do you think?’ he replied, biting his lip to suppress a smile.

  Andy inhaled slowly, trying to make her brain work while Miles was looking at her like that and failing.

  ‘I could use a girl who has no truck with this ridiculous game we all play called fame, but is polite enough not to tell someone that to their face. With a girl like that, I might be able to survive the night without socking someone or showing Jason up.’

  His gaze slid up from her hands to her face, but his thumbs continued to stroke the back of her hand as he locked eyes with hers.

  ‘That girl is you, Andy Davies. I choose you. Say yes and in return … I promise to do everything I can to help you with your career.’

  She took a sharp intake of breath and her eyes flickered into life with that same fire he had seen back in the gallery.

  ‘What do you mean? My career? You don’t know anything about my career.’

  Miles shrugged. ‘Yes, I do. I know passion and talent when I see it and, from what you’ve just told me, you have not had the opportunity to make your dream a reality until now. Those cards you have in that bag are only the start, Andy. Cory Sports uses professional designers who are always looking out for new talent. Talent like yours.’

  ‘So now you are bribing me to be your date in exchange for helping me to find an outlet for my designs. Is that what you are saying?’ Andy asked, with disbelief in her voice.

  ‘Absolutely,’ he replied with a single slow nod.

  ‘You should be ashamed of yourself.’

  ‘Not in the slightest. Because I am quite serious. Come out with me for one date. One. And I give you my word that I will do
what I can to help your career. It’s not often I have the chance to make a girl’s dream come true. I rather like it. What do you say?’

  She licked her lips and seemed to be working through the options.

  It was now or never.

  ‘One date.’

  He nodded his head slowly up and down. ‘One evening. And of course, as my date you should prepare yourself to be pampered with every luxury known to woman along the way. All part of the deal. No extra charge.’

  Andy seemed to be biting on the inside of her lip, but then her shoulders dropped and she gave him a small, but warm half-smile.

  ‘Pampering?’ she replied, breaking the thick tense air that filled the few inches of space between them. ‘Why didn’t you say that in the first place? It has been a while since I had some pampering.’

  ‘Then you will come with me? A week on Saturday. Eight till late?’ Miles said as he leant forwards and kissed her forehead with the lightest possible touch of his lips, then her temple. ‘Yes? Excellent,’ he whispered in her ear before sliding away with a beaming grin. ‘It is going to be quite a night.’

  Then without warning he wrapped his arms around her slight body in a great bear hug, which seemed to force her air from her lungs, then stood back and rubbed his hands together.

  ‘Right. Down to business,’ he smouldered. ‘You have taken time out of your life to show me those wonderful art works that make your heart sing. The very least I can do is offer to give you some idea of my passion in return. That way you’ll have a fighting chance of keeping up with what we are talking about during the show.’

  ‘I have to go surfing?’ she gasped in disbelief.

  ‘Not unless I can kidnap you and whisk you off to Tenerife. I was actually thinking of something a little closer to home. But I’ll be in touch.’

  And he lifted both of her hands to his lips and gave them one kiss before releasing her.

  ‘We just have enough time to go through that pitch again before your meeting. Ready? Let’s go and dazzle them,’ he smirked, then grabbed her hand and took off, bad leg and all, dragging her behind him.

  ‘I must be hearing things,’ Jason said, peering at Miles over the top of his spectacles. ‘For a moment there I thought you just said that you had to bribe the lovely Andy to go on a date after she turned you down. I’m shocked.’

  ‘That would be correct,’ Miles replied through bites of sandwich made from four slices of bread, half a pound of cheese, smothered in mayonnaise and several sliced tomatoes, which passed for a light snack. ‘On the other hand, remind me again who you are taking to the most important event of our season? Um? Oh, yes, I remember now. Going solo. Again.’

  Jason blew out long and low. ‘True. But I am not the one who has been pacing the floor for the last hour and cannot sit still for more than ten minutes at a time—and, yes, I know your knee needs work, but please, just tell me that Andy is not just another form of distraction? Because I am the one staying in London who will have to pick up the pieces.’

  ‘Distraction?’ Miles sniffed. ‘Maybe. Because talking to Andy certainly beats being cooped up in an airless office all day. But I meant what I told her. We have business skills and contacts she can use. And you can stop looking at me like that. One night. And that’s it. No expectations on either side. Just how I like it.’

  Jason looked at Miles through narrowed eyes. ‘You have been whining on for months that you are not prepared to go solo in front of the other sportsmen and I get that. Truly. I do. You are back on your feet and you want the rest of the world to see you in your full glory with a lovely lady on your arm. All hail the great hero. But why am I getting the feeling that it is more than that?’

  ‘Never mind the great hero part. We need to show the people who matter that the business is still in good hands. And I never asked you to set me up with some dates.’

  ‘No, you didn’t, because you have a problem asking anyone for help, even if they are your own family.’

  Jason sat back in his computer chair and twirled it around to face Miles.

  ‘Why are you going to this much trouble? Remember that fashion shoot we did in Bali last year? Those lovely ladies were all from the same London agency. I can pick up the phone to any one of ten girls who would be happy to be your date for the evening. Why don’t you want to take the easy route this time? After all, it’s only one night.’

  Miles put down his sandwich, his appetite suddenly gone, and turned back from the open patio door. ‘You really are clueless sometimes, do you know that? The last thing I need is another bikini model. Great girls, every one of them. But for this event I need someone different, and not in showbiz if I can help it. Andy is great. Quirky. I like her.’

  Jason tapped his fingers on the edge of his chair as Miles glowered at him, then leant forwards and rested his elbows on his knees before asking in a low voice, ‘Is this about Lori? Because I am happy to cover the meet and greet at the award ceremony if you are worried about seeing her again.’

  ‘Worried?’ Miles snorted as he pushed himself to his feet. ‘Why should I be worried? Lori has already moved on to become the official girlfriend of one of the world’s finest footballers. I am happy for her.’

  ‘Happy,’ Jason repeated. ‘Oh, boy. I should have known. Here’s an idea. Walk away. Why put yourself through the awkward moment when you see each other again for the first time since the accident? The latest range of surf gear is due to roll out at the trade fair in Honolulu next week. The manager would love for you to be there. Sun. Sea. Fun. And think of the publicity.’

  ‘Not going to happen. I am fine. Professional and fine.’

  Miles slapped his hand down hard on Jason’s shoulder, making him wince. ‘You worry too much. It’s okay. Besides, I would much rather supervise the aqua-therapy programme this afternoon than squeeze myself behind a desk for any longer than I have to or into an aircraft seat. My knee won’t take a long flight. Not yet.’

  His hand suddenly stilled. ‘Aqua therapy. I wonder …’ And with a laugh he hobbled off to his room. ‘I might just be able to persuade the lovely Andy to spend time with me after all. See you later and best of luck with the office systems.’

  ‘Yes, fine. Go,’ Jason sighed loudly and slapped his forehead. ‘Don’t worry about me. Just leave me to sort the mess out. I’ll be okay. You go ahead and enjoy yourself.’

  ‘No doubt about that,’ Miles replied with a hand gesture. ‘No doubt at all.’

  ‘Charming. But aren’t you forgetting something?’

  Jason dived into his trouser pocket and pulled out a folded scrap of paper. ‘I might have noted down the telephone number when Andy called this afternoon … She wanted to tell you that the museum have asked to see her complete range of greetings cards. Oh—didn’t I mention that before? Silly me … Miles, what are you doing with that fork? Get off me!’

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  From: Andromeda@ConstellationOfficeServices

  To: saffie@saffronthechef

  Subject: What to do about the millionaire I wish you would stop scolding me so much. Blame Nigel if you like, but the last thing I want or need right now is a dinner date where I won’t know what cutlery to use for what course, and I am bound to say the wrong thing. He is just being kind. That’s all.

  You know that I am clueless when it comes to sport.

  And no. I won’t organise a double date for you, me and the Gibson twins.

  My life is already complicated enough.

  Oh, must go—cards to paint.

  Love ya, Andy the professional artist or something like that.

  ANDY sat down at the worktop she was using as her bedroom desk and stroked the thick paper and lustrous colours of the print she had bought at the museum. This was where she was happiest. Alone with her illustrations. This was where she could most truly express what she was made of and what she did best.

  Picking up the calligraphy pen she had been using for the lettering on one of her Christmas card designs, she carefull
y and slowly wrote his name in a round font, then italics, then gothic script.

  Miles Gibson.

  It was a strong name with two wonderful leading capitals.

  A strong name for a strong man. A powerful man.

  A smile crept up on her and she pressed her lips together tight.

  Contrary. Unpredictable. Sporty. Domineering. And those were just his finer qualities. The list could go on.

  Tempted? Oh, yes, she had been tempted.

  Andy was so preoccupied with writing his name that when her mobile rang she picked it up without checking to see who the caller was, flipped it open, lifted it to her ear and said, ‘Andy Davies.’

  ‘Hey, girl,’ a deep male voice said, and the pen she was holding dug into the paper, made a splodge of red ink and twisted the nib.

  ‘Oh, rats,’ she hissed, and tried to soak up the ink.

  ‘I prefer hello,’ Miles replied, his voice lifting up at the end in amusement.

  ‘Oh, no, not you.’ She frowned. ‘I just spilt some ink, but it was only a test piece, nothing to worry about.’

  She held the phone away from her mouth, rolled her eyes and grimaced. Was it possible to sound more stupid and pathetic?

  She took a breath, smiled and tried to speak as though her brain was connected to the mouth. ‘Back now. Shall we start again? Hello. What are you up to? And how did you find my number?’

  He breathed out hot and fast. ‘It turns out that my brother is a member of the gym at the hotel next door. And they have a hot tub. And Jason made a note of your number when you called today.’

  Then his voice dropped several decibels and he half whispered in a tone that she could pour over ice cream, ‘And how about you? What are you up to?’

  ‘I’m at my desk painting stained-glass Christmas cards,’ she murmured, her eyes closed so that she could listen to his voice without any visual distractions. ‘Why do you ask?’