by Liz Fielding
‘It’s just as well that sleeping on a hard surface is good for the back, or that since you’re not going to sue yourself, there can be no objection to you sleeping on the office floor. You are so out of here.’
Josie didn’t wait for his response, but went in search of Crystal, muttering a furious ‘damn’ with every step.
What was really galling was that she knew Gideon was right. She should be grateful to him for taking the time and trouble to summon David and sort everything out, relieving her of at least one worry.
He owned this place and he didn’t have to share one inch of his precious space with her. It wasn’t even the fact that he was a man that bothered her. She would have moved in with one of the Celebrity staff, male or female, without a second thought if they weren’t already doubled up.
It was the obvious answer, the grown-up answer, one she might even have got around to suggesting herself, given enough time and a lack of any other option—although she’d still have taken the office floor, given the choice.
But, while he’d no doubt acted from the best of motives, Gideon couldn’t possibly know how it made her feel to have control over what she did, where she slept, taken out of her hands.
How helpless, powerless that made her feel.
Or that it was something she’d vowed long ago would never happen to her again.
Stupid, stupid, stupid, she thought, slowing as she approached the last set of steps.
There were two rules.
One—never make a threat you aren’t prepared to carry out or, worse, make one that you’re powerless to deliver on.
Two—if you can’t control the things around you, you can at least control yourself.
She’d just broken them both.
She stopped as she reached the steps to Crystal’s tree house. Took a moment to regain control over her breathing, wipe Gideon McGrath from her mind.
Crystal appeared, swathed in a gorgeous silk kimono wrap, before she’d managed either.
‘Josie! I was just going for a swim. Want to join me?’
‘I haven’t got time for a swim, but I’ll walk down with you. I’m sorry I was asleep when you arrived. You should have woken me and I’d have sorted out your room for you.’
‘No need. Gideon was so sweet; he sorted it all out in a minute. You must have been totally wiped to have slept through all that coming and going.’
‘Even so. It’s my job, Crystal—’
‘Cryssie, please.’
‘It’s my job, Cryssie. Come to me if you have any problems, okay? Day or night.’ Then, ‘How’s your tree house?’
‘Great. Really cute, although I have to admit that when we flew in I thought I’d arrived at the end of the earth. Then, when David took me right out there into the woods…’
‘Serafina thought, I imagine, that you and Tal would welcome the privacy.’
‘Oh, please. This is a media wedding; there is no such thing as privacy.’
‘So why did you do it? It’s not as if you’re keeping the money.’
She shrugged. The boldly coloured silk wrap shimmered in the sunlight and as they walked through the boma a couple of middle-aged men, showing off their day’s ‘bag’ of photographs over a sundowner, nearly broke their necks as they did a double take.
‘People think I’m just another dumb underwear model who’s bagged herself an equally dumb footballer,’ Cryssie, said, apparently unaware of the stir she was creating. Or maybe she was so used to it that she no longer noticed.
They were much of a height, but that was all they had in common. Cryssie was absolutely stunning and Josie, who’d never worried about her lack of curves or the fact that the only heads that turned in her direction were in disbelief, felt a pang of something very like envy as she realised why Gideon had suddenly become Mr Helpful instead of Mr Obstructive.
Who wouldn’t fall under the spell of such beauty?
‘We were going to have the press all over us anyway, so we decided to make it mean something.’ Cryssie stopped by the edge of the pool, oblivious to the sudden stillness as she slipped off her wrap to reveal a matching strapless swimsuit and a perfectly even tan. ‘We’re using the money to set up sports holiday camps for special needs kids.’
Not only beautiful, but caring too. Who could compete with that?
‘That’s a wonderful thing to do.’
‘We’ve been lucky and it’s worth the circus to put something back. But this is the last. We’re not going to be living our lives, having our babies on the front pages of the gossip mags. So,’ she said, turning a hundred watt smile on Josie, ‘we’re going to have to give them their money’s worth.’
‘I’ll certainly do my best.’
As she settled on a chair and stretched out, a white-jacketed waiter appeared.
‘Sparkling water, please. No ice. Josie?’
Josie glanced longingly at the pool, but shook her head. ‘Thanks, but I have to get on.’
‘Maybe we could have dinner together later? Talk things through. About seven?’
‘Of course. Is there anything you need before then?’
‘No. Oh…’
‘Yes?’
‘There is my dress. I’ve unpacked it and hung it over the wardrobe door.’ She did something with her shoulders that was far too pretty to be called a shrug. ‘It’s not very big, is it? There’s no room inside and we’ve got a photo shoot tomorrow.’
‘You want me to look after it?’
‘Please. I don’t want Tal to see it before the big day.’
‘No problem. I’ll pick it up on my way back.’
‘Thanks. Oh, and I expect he’s told you, but I invited Gideon to the wedding’
‘Gideon?’ Josie managed to keep the smile pinned to her face but the wretched man had been a problem since the moment she’d first set eyes on him and she’d thought she would be safe at the wedding.
‘One extra won’t be a problem, will it? You’ll have to redo the seating plan anyway because of Darren and Susie’s bust-up,’ Cryssie said, blissfully unaware of the turmoil in her breast. ‘I’ll be happy to give you a hand. I’ve got nothing to do after dinner.’
‘That’ll be fun,’ Josie managed. Rearranging the seating plan was the least of her worries. It happened at every wedding, although, as she’d told Gideon, normally it was simply a matter of a few extra dining chairs. Beds was a new one. ‘You can tell me about all the guests at the same time. That way, I’ll be prepared for every eventuality. In the meantime, just ask someone to find me if you need me for anything.’
‘Great.’ Then, ‘Oh…’
She waited, wondering what other bombshell Cryssie was about to explode.
‘I think Darren’s new girlfriend is a vegan.’
She let out a sigh of relief. ‘She won’t be the only one. I’ll make sure that the chef knows about it.’
Her cue to visit the kitchens.
Gideon stayed where he was for a while, lost in thought. It wasn’t that he didn’t know what he’d done wrong. Josie had left him in no doubt.
She’d got it all wrong, of course. He hadn’t for a moment imagined that she’d throw a virginal strop if he suggested she move in with him. Although maybe kissing her hadn’t been such a great idea under the circumstances. If he’d been thinking with his head, it would never have happened. And she’d made it perfectly clear that if she’d been thinking at all, it wouldn’t have happened.
But that wasn’t what was bugging her.
She wasn’t concerned that he’d make an unwelcome move on her. The way that kiss had ended had left him in no doubt that, spontaneous, passionate, urgent as it had been, she had problems. Despite a very natural urge to hold her, reassure her, kiss her again, taking his time about it, he’d taken his cue from her and backed off, acted as if it had been nothing. Made a joke of it, even though the heat of her strawberry-flavoured lips had been burning a hole through his brain and he’d been feeling no pain.
He knew he’d convinced her;
she wouldn’t have offered him her hand to help him up if she’d been in any doubt. It would have been too easy to simply pull her down into his lap.
No. It was the fact that he’d taken the decision without consulting her, choosing to let her sleep on rather than disturbing her, that had made her so mad.
‘It should have been my decision.’
And she was right. He should have waited until she’d woken up but he was so used to taking decisions, leaving everyone else in his wake, that he’d forgotten that this was her show, not his.
He hauled himself to his feet. Steadied himself. The back was in a co-operative mood despite the row, or maybe because of it. If it was psychological, stress-related, it wasn’t this kind of adrenalin rush that triggered it. But he’d known all along what the problem was.
It had begun on the day he’d decided to offload Leopard Tree Lodge, rid himself of the one resort in his portfolio that he couldn’t bear to visit. Couldn’t stop thinking about.
He moved carefully across the deck to the tree house; the pain had definitely eased, but he wasn’t about to take any chances. Once inside, it took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the different light level, but then he opened the wardrobe door and saw exactly what Josie had seen.
A stunning piece of feminine kit made from purple chiffon hanging next to his suit. A pair of high heeled shoes that appeared to consist solely of straps beside his loafers. His grip, her suitcase.
Alesia had only done what he’d asked her, but the result did not give the impression of two strangers sharing a room out of convenience—her stuff at one end, his at the other. It had the intimacy of the wardrobe of two people sharing a room, sharing a bed because they were together, an item. Because they wanted to.
He could have asked Francis to pack for him, but it was time to go, get out of here. If he called an air taxi now he’d be in time to get away tonight and, without waiting, he bent to pick up his grip.
The chef had been able to spare her an hour to go through the menu for the pre-wedding dinner.
After she’d gone through the menu, including special dietary needs, she’d checked the linen, then she and the head waiter had laid out a table so that they both knew what they’d be doing on the day of the wedding.
She had thought that the colours might be a bit overpowering, but strong light needed rich colours and the orange cloths and pale blue draw sheets looked stunning against the evening sun. The table flowers would be marigolds and forget-me-nots. To her intense relief, there were no balloons; the chance of small pieces of latex being ingested by animals was too great to risk.
It was almost dark by the time she headed back through the trees, but there were solar lamps along the bridge, on the steps and decks, threaded through the trees. It gave everything an ethereal fairyland quality.
‘Are you okay on your own?’ she asked Cryssie when she stopped to pick up the wedding dress. Now it was dark she could understand why she might not want to be alone out at the far end of the lodge. Might have felt a little nervous herself…
‘Absolutely. It’s been mad for the last few weeks. It’s great to get a bit of peace, to be honest. I’m looking forward to an early night.’
‘Well, you know where I am if you need anything. I’ll see you later.’
That done, she straightened her shoulders and headed back to face Gideon. Eat a little humble pie.
The deck was bathed in cool, low level light, but there was no sign of Gideon and no candles had been lit inside.
He couldn’t have surrendered, surely? Taken her at her word. He could barely move…
‘Gideon?’ she called, assailed by a sudden rush of alarm.
‘I’m on the floor. Please try not to fall on top of me.’
‘Where are you? What happened?’
‘I’m in front of the wardrobe.’
She felt her way cautiously in the direction of his voice and collided with the edge of the open wardrobe door.
‘Ouch!’
‘Sorry. I should have warned you about that.’
‘I’m okay.’ Apart from the crack on her forehead and the odd whirling star.
She felt for the top of the door, carefully hung the dress over it, then got down on her knees and felt around until she’d found his leg. Warm, strong…
‘Careful where you’re putting your hand,’ he warned as she edged forward and she jerked it away.
‘What happened?’ she repeated. ‘Did you fall? Have you hurt your head?’
‘No and no. I bent to pick up my bag so that I could pack and my back seized again.’
‘You are such an idiot.’
‘I’ve been lying here for hours just waiting for you to tell me that. Where the hell have you been?’
‘Doing my job. Talking to the chef, discussing arrangements with David, counting tablecloths.’
Putting off the moment when she’d have to face him, apologise.
‘Vital work, obviously,’ he replied.
‘It’s what Celebrity is paying me for. Nursemaiding you isn’t part of the deal,’ she snapped. Then, not sure whether she was more furious with herself or with him, ‘Damn it, Gideon, I came back ready to apologise, play nice and you’ve set me off again.’
‘Play nice?’ he repeated, with a soft rising inflection that suggested all manner of pleasurable games. ‘Well, that’s more like it.’
In the darkness, with no visual stimulus, his low, gravelly voice was enough to send a sensuous curl of heat winding through that hidden central core that she kept locked away. Just as his eyes had lit up her body when she’d come face to face with him that morning. As his touch had seduced her into a reckless kiss.
Every part of him seemed to touch her with an intimacy that effortlessly undermined her defences.
Control… Control…
‘Are you in pain?’ she asked, summoning up her best ‘nanny’ voice, the one she kept for panicking brides, weeping mothers-of-the-groom and pageboys intent on mayhem. Determinedly ignoring the seductive power of his voice. Blocking out feelings that she couldn’t handle.
‘It’s getting better. Isn’t lying on a hard surface supposed to be therapeutic? Maybe bringing me down was my back’s way of telling me what it needs.’
‘Smart back. Maybe you should sleep down here,’ she suggested.
‘Is that your best offer?’
‘Oh, shut up. I’ll light the candles,’ she said, shuffling back the way she’d come so that she could move around him. She misjudged his length, caught his foot with her knee.
‘Ouch!’
‘Sorry…’
She backed off carefully, crawled towards the bed, banged her head against the wooden frame. ‘Ouch!’
Gideon began to laugh.
‘It’s not funny!’
‘No. Sorry…’
That was enough to set her off and, as he peppered his laughter with short scatological expletives each time he jarred his back, she broke down and, helpless with laughter, collapsed beside him, provoking another, ‘Ouch!’
For a moment the two of them lay, side by side in the dark, trying to recover. It took an age for her to smother the outbreaks of giggles, but every time she said ‘Sorry’ it set them both off again. Then his hand found hers in the dark and all desire to laugh left her.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Some brides want to include a much-loved dog, pony or other animal as part of their big day. This can be a challenge…
—The Perfect Wedding by Serafina March
‘THAT’S better. Are you okay?’ Gideon asked as she hiccupped and gasped as she tried to get her breath back.
‘I th-think s-so.’ No question. Infinitely better. She’d had no idea that a man holding your hand could make you feel so safe. ‘You?’
‘A lot better than I was ten minutes ago.’ She felt, rather than saw, him move his head and she knew that he was looking at her. ‘They do say laughter is the best medicine.’
‘That would be why you were swearing so much
.’
‘Sorry…’
‘Don’t!’ she warned and Gideon’s hand tightened as, for a moment, neither of them dared to breathe. When, finally, Josie was certain that she was safe from another fit of the giggles, she said, ‘I’d better light the candles.’
‘No hurry. This is good.’
Before she could react, the bell rang at the foot of the steps, and then a dark figure appeared in the open doorway.
‘Rra?’
‘We’re here, Francis. Give us some light, will you?’
‘Are you hurt, Rra?’ he asked as he lit the candles and the room filled with soft light. ‘Oh, madam, you are here too. Can I help you?’
‘Just see to the nets, Francis,’ Gideon said. ‘We’re fine where we are.’
Nets?
Josie watched Francis unfasten them from the bedposts and spread them out so that they turned the bed into a gauzy cloister. Her turn to let slip an expletive. She’d thought they looked romantic, but they were mosquito nets.
‘Is there anything I can bring you? Rra, madam?’
‘A large single malt whisky for Miss Fowler and a bottle of mineral water for me, Francis. And I’m sure Miss Fowler would welcome something to nibble on. It’s a long time since she had lunch.’
‘Yes, Rra.’
‘A long time since lunch?’ she challenged, the minute he’d gone. ‘I didn’t have any lunch. And the monkey ate my breakfast. It’s no wonder I nearly passed out on you.’
‘Don’t worry, I’ll share.’
‘I won’t. I hope you enjoy your mineral water.’ Then, ‘Why didn’t you let Francis help you up?’
‘No rush. It’s therapeutic, remember? Just lie there quietly until he comes back.’
‘I haven’t got a bad back,’ she reminded him. Not because she didn’t want to stay where she was, her hand feeling small and feminine tucked in his. But it wasn’t wise, not when just being close to him was jump-starting emotions that she’d successfully held in stasis for so long that she’d become complacent, assuming herself to be immune.
‘Maybe not, but you don’t want to risk another dizzy spell. It being so long since you’ve eaten.’