Harlequin Romance April 2021 Box Set

by Rebecca Winters

  ‘So that’s sorted.’ She injected a no-nonsense briskness into her voice. ‘What did you do next?’

  ‘I got your number. And I called you straight away to check I’d got it right.’

  ‘So when did you call me?’

  ‘I asked you to call me when the party was finished. You did and we met up. Then I took you back to your hotel room.’

  ‘And...?’

  ‘We talked all night until the sun came up,’ he said, a smile dancing around the corners of his sexy mouth. ‘I was a gentleman.’

  ‘And I was wishing you weren’t.’ She slapped her hand over her mouth. ‘Scratch that!’

  He laughed. ‘But I wasn’t such a gentleman the next night.’

  ‘Really?’ she said, trying to sound prim instead of turned on.

  It took a real effort not to focus on imagining the exciting details of his fictional ungentlemanly behaviour and her fictional response. Since that first kiss she had spent too much time fantasising over the prospect of making love with Josh. Now he sat so near to her in the privacy of her home, it was impossible not to acknowledge that intense physical pull. ‘And we spent as much time as we could together before you had to go back to Boston.’

  ‘We did. In fact, we hardly left your hotel bedroom.’ His tone was so exaggerated in its lasciviousness it made her laugh.

  ‘If you say so,’ she said.

  ‘I wished so,’ he said with a grin.

  She was glad she had decided not to sit next to him on the sofa. It would be only too easy to let this game get out of hand and practise for real.

  ‘Let’s be serious,’ she said. ‘After the big celebrity wedding was over, I had to go to New York City to meet with one of Roxee’s friends who’d just got engaged and wanted me to design her wedding gown. That part of the story is true.’

  ‘So I flew to New York and we took up where we left off.’

  ‘Don’t say it, we hardly left the bedroom again and I saw nothing of New York.’

  ‘Actually, this time you said it,’ he said, laughter still warming his voice.

  ‘Yes, I did,’ she admitted. What a slip.

  ‘You pick up the story now,’ he said. ‘What happened next?’

  ‘I stayed in New York for as long as I could, but I had to get back to my work in Sydney. We said a sad goodbye.’

  ‘We kept in touch via video chat.’

  ‘And had lots of phone sex.’ Again she clapped her hand to her mouth. ‘I’m sorry—I don’t know how that slipped out. Too much of that white wine you brought to go with the Thai food.’ Was it wishful thinking that was causing her to blunder like this?

  ‘I’m sure it would be the case if...if our story were true.’ Was he humouring her? Or did he feel it too?

  ‘We realised it was more than a fling,’ she said.

  ‘Then I flew over to Sydney last week to surprise you and propose.’

  ‘And of course I was delighted.’ She sat back in the sofa. ‘That works for me. I think we’ve come up with a reasonable story. We just have to remember the details and stick with them.’

  And not feel inexplicably sad because it sounded like a really romantic story and for a minute there she’d found herself wishing she were in it. On that beachfront at Santa Monica and falling in love with a stranger. Only the man in the story wasn’t a stranger. It was Josh, real-life Josh, who was playing along with the game. And who looked so hot in those black jeans.

  She untangled her legs, took a sip from her wine glass. ‘Next question. Have you thought of anything you want to ask?’

  He shook his head. ‘I think you might know more about the subject of engagements than I do.’

  ‘I know one question we’re sure to be asked: When is the wedding? The second anyone gets engaged people start asking that.’

  He frowned. ‘That’s got me stymied. To be honest, it’s not something that has ever crossed my mind. What do you suggest?’

  ‘We can’t go wrong by saying spring. That gives us time to organise the hypothetical wedding. Say November, which is spring Down Under. That’s actually a lovely time to get married.’

  ‘November it is,’ he said. ‘And the wedding is in Sydney not Boston?’

  ‘Of course, as it’s the bride’s home town.’ She had to say the bride. She simply couldn’t bring herself to say my.

  ‘Might they ask if you are intending to move to Boston after the wedding?’ he said.

  ‘Or if you intend to move to Sydney?’

  They both fell silent. ‘It’s a tricky one,’ she said finally. ‘Why don’t we say we’re still fine-tuning the details?’

  ‘Because actually Boston is your home town too,’ he said slowly.

  The silence that fell between them was more uncomfortable than the mock-marriage plans warranted. Finally Eloise broke it. ‘So, moving on. The other question we’re sure to be asked is Can I see the engagement ring?’

  ‘I didn’t think of that.’ He swore under his breath. ‘Will I have time to buy one in the morning before we leave for the wedding?’

  ‘Thank you for the thought, but there’s no need. I have a ring we can use. I inherited it from my grandmother. It’s a gorgeous ruby and diamond ring. She called it a cocktail ring but it will suit our purpose. I’ve had the ring resized to fit me but never had a chance to wear it. Let me go and get it.’

  Eloise got up from the sofa and went into the bedroom, glad of the excuse to escape from Josh for a moment and get back her equilibrium. She was shaking. This game was a dangerous one. She’d too easily become engrossed in the fiction of falling in love with Josh, a man who, the second the hypothetical scenario of their wedding came up, immediately assumed she’d be moving to Boston. It was only an off-the-cuff remark, meaningless in its context. But it underscored the reasons why no matter how much she enjoyed his company, no matter how much she fancied him, she could never allow herself to even think about falling for Josh in real life. He didn’t appear to be controlling, but he certainly had a ruthless side to him. Who knew what he was really like?

  With a bright smile pasted on her face, she came back into the living room to find Josh flicking through the glossy decorating magazine that had published a feature on her renovation of this apartment. He got up on her approach.

  ‘Impressive what you’ve done here,’ he said. ‘The article says you could make your living in interior design if you changed your mind about wedding gowns.’

  ‘Flattering, isn’t it? But fashion is my first love, and I don’t ever want to do anything else. Eloise Evans Atelier is more than just my work—it’s my life. I enjoyed doing this place up but I wouldn’t want to do it for a business. The apartment was my grandmother’s and I wanted to honour all the lovely times I had with her here while at the same time updating her old-lady décor.’

  ‘You’ve done a great job,’ he said, looking around. ‘It’s very elegant.’ She realised he must have seen the photos of her bedroom in the magazine and resisted the urge to show it to him.

  She held up a small, rust-spotted box. ‘But this ring I’ve left just as she had it because I value it that way. It’s a large stone and I believe the setting was quite avant-garde for its time.’

  ‘May I see it?’ he said.

  She flipped open the box and handed it to him. ‘I don’t know when it was last worn.’

  One thing was for sure, her grandmother would not have approved of her intended subterfuge. And her mother would be horrified when she heard about it. But protecting her business was her priority—and she intended to do everything she could do to make @lindytheblonde’s attack on it fail.

  Josh looked at the ring nestled in the very old velvet. ‘I don’t know anything about engagement rings but aren’t they meant to be diamond? Will this be believable? I don’t want to look cheap.’ He was really entering into the spirit of the cha
rade.

  ‘I believe an engagement ring can be anything you want it to be. Anyone who knows anything about me knows I like vintage. I think this will pass muster. And it’s actually very valuable.’

  He held the little box awkwardly. ‘Do...do I have to put it on your finger?’

  She couldn’t meet his eye. ‘I... I think that would actually be a bit weird.’ She took the ring from him and slipped it onto the third finger of her left hand. She held out her hand to display it, fingers splayed. ‘This is how I’ll show it off to anyone who asks. We don’t need to give any details about where we got it or anything else.’

  ‘It suits you,’ he said. ‘The ring suits you, your car suits you, so does the way you dress. You’re your own woman. If people ask I’ll say that’s one of the reasons that attracted me to you.’

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, not sure what else to say, not sure if it was a compliment or not.

  ‘It makes me wonder, do you actually need anyone else in your life?’

  ‘I have friends, my mother—’

  ‘I mean a life partner. Or are you like me, a lone wolf at heart?’

  She looked up at him. ‘I’m happy on my own but I... I don’t think I’m a lone wolf. I’ve often felt there’s something missing in my life, something intangible. Perhaps that’s from being an only child. But as far as relationships go, I won’t compromise and I’ve had bad luck with the wrong kind of man.’

  A lazy smile hovered around the corners of his mouth. ‘So, in fact, you haven’t met “the right man” yet?’

  She forced a laugh. ‘Back to the old cliché. Perhaps in our role play at the wedding I can tell them I finally did meet him.’

  She paused and the silence again became awkward. She had no experience to call upon to help her manage this situation. A fake engagement.

  ‘I can’t think of anything else we have to rehearse, can you?’ she said.

  She didn’t give him a chance to reply. She really couldn’t endure any more, alone here together in her apartment with all this make-believe talk of falling in love and phone sex and that undeniable, sizzling current of attraction between them.

  ‘We’ll have two hours in the car tomorrow to cover anything we’ve missed,’ she said. ‘The wedding starts at four. I need to be there around two as Becca, the bride, wants me to be there for a final check on her gown. I’d rather leave earlier than later. How about I pick you up from your hotel after breakfast?’

  ‘Sounds like a plan to me,’ he said.

  She led him to the door. For a long moment they stood silently, facing each other. With her heels kicked off he seemed taller and she had to look a long way up. Finally, he put his hand to her face and traced a line to her cheek. Such a simple caress, yet it set her nerve ends tingling. ‘I want to kiss you goodnight.’

  She caught her breath. ‘I want to kiss you goodnight too.’

  ‘But you’ve set the rules. No kissing in private.’

  She had to clear her throat to speak. ‘I want to say we don’t need to enforce the rules yet, but I can’t. I like kissing you, Josh. A lot. But I meant what I said the first night. We know where that kind of kissing will lead us and I don’t want to go there.’

  She couldn’t deal with a no-strings fling with Josh. Not when he’d be going home soon. Not when she was starting to like him too much as a friend. To be honest, as more than a friend. Not when she realised if she didn’t keep him at arm’s length she could end up getting hurt.

  ‘So we start as we mean to continue,’ he said. ‘No kissing in private.’

  ‘That’s right,’ she said, unable to take her eyes from his sexy, sexy mouth, trembling inside from the need to press her mouth against his lips, to wind her arms around his neck and pull him close.

  He dropped his hand. ‘Then I’ll just say goodnight.’

  ‘Goodnight, Josh,’ she said. ‘I’ll see you in the morning.’

  She closed the door before she could change her mind. For a long moment she stood staring blindly at the door. Something told her that Josh was still on the other side and she had to fight the urge to call him back and tell him she’d changed her mind. She held her breath until she heard his footsteps moving slowly away and then let it out on a sigh of what she didn’t know was relief or regret.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  JOSH WAS THOROUGHLY enjoying his ride in Eloise’s vintage sports car. For a car that was almost sixty years old it had a lot of power. Back home, he had driven a new model luxury European car ever since he could afford one. It was an outward flag of status to wave under the nose of the Boston family who had rejected him.

  Yet this smart little white car garnered more attention from passers-by than any of his exceedingly expensive vehicles.

  ‘A friend of my grandmother’s put it up for sale when I’d barely got my driver’s licence,’ Eloise said. ‘My grandmother knew how much I wanted it and lent me the money to get it. I paid her back every cent, of course.’

  She’d been young to have been so sure of what she wanted. Yet he had known what he wanted when he’d been booted out of home at the age of sixteen: to show his former family they’d been wrong about him. He continued to pursue that aim with fierce determination.

  ‘It’s probably worth much more than you paid for it now,’ he said.

  ‘This car has been an excellent investment. New cars depreciate; this one continues to go up in value. Not that I’d ever sell it. I get stopped in the street by admirers all the time, with offers to buy it, offers to hire it.’

  Jealousy, unexpected and shocking, hit him. Were the ‘admirers’ interested in the car or its beautiful driver? Even in the relatively subdued outfit she wore today, narrow-legged trousers in a mottled purple colour with a matching short jacket, she turned heads. Josh realised his fists were clenched tightly on his lap. He forced the feeling to go away. He had no claim on her whatsoever. ‘Have you ever loaned the car out?’

  ‘Just the once. To a movie production company. I knew someone there who begged me to borrow it and paid me a good fee. They returned it with a scratch on it and denied they’d put it there. My beloved car. Never again. I’m not known for my generosity in giving second chances.’

  She said that last sentence in a light-hearted, almost throw-away manner. But he had no doubt she meant every word. Eloise was charming and fun, but you didn’t get to run a successful business like hers with clients all around the world without a certain degree of toughness.

  ‘I have, however, made a promise I intend to keep,’ she continued. ‘When Vinh decides to get married, I’ll lend her my car for her wedding. Friendship trumps all.’

  ‘Of course,’ he said, thinking what a contradiction she was and how interesting it made her.

  The wedding destination was on the outskirts of the town of Bowral in the southern highlands, south west of Sydney.

  ‘I promise once we clear the city motorways the scenery will get interesting,’ she said. ‘Bowral is known as Double Bay in the country, as it’s always been a rural retreat for wealthy Sydneysiders. The place is dotted with mansions on magnificent estates. Silver Trees, where the wedding is to be held, is one of them. It’s been in the groom’s family for ever...prize-winning gardens, an ornamental lake, expansive grounds, tennis court, swimming pavilion, stables, you name it—all designed by a renowned architect in the nineteen-twenties.’

  ‘I look forward to seeing it. I’ve never been outside of Sydney or Melbourne.’

  ‘You didn’t want to go up north to tropical Queensland for a holiday once you’d flown all the way here? An escape from the Boston winter perhaps?’

  ‘I don’t take holidays these days,’ he said, more tersely than probably required.

  ‘Fair enough,’ she said. She drove in silence for a few minutes. ‘Tell me, you asked me if I had childhood dreams of making wedding dresses for celebrities. I know your p
arents pretty much forced your hand to earn your own living. But was it your childhood ambition to be a billionaire tech mogul?’

  He nearly choked from the shock of her blunt question. ‘No one has ever asked me that before,’ he said once he’d regained his voice.

  She looked straight ahead as she spoke. ‘Maybe because you seem quite formidable.’

  ‘Formidable?’

  ‘Your achievements are incredible. If I’d known who you were, I probably wouldn’t have dared chat to you in the park.’

  ‘I’m glad you did,’ he said. Not for Tori’s sake but for his own.

  ‘Thanks to Daisy,’ Eloise said lightly. ‘But seriously, is that what you set out to be?’

  ‘Does anyone actually set out to become that? I knew I wanted to work in the digital world, and planned on a degree in computer science, but that wasn’t to be.’

  ‘Because of what happened when you were sixteen?’

  ‘It started even before then.’ He paused. ‘Do you really need to know all this?’

  ‘If we were really engaged I’d already know it, wouldn’t I?’

  ‘I guess so,’ he said grudgingly.

  His past was his own private hell, not readily shared. But Eloise had a point: she would be expected to know more about him than she did if she was to be his future wife. Wife. He reeled at the thought, even in a hypothetical context.

  He honestly didn’t know why he had made that spontaneous offer of pretending to be her fiancé. It was all mixed up with his attraction to her, his loyalty to Tori, the fact that his time in Sydney was beginning to seem almost surreal. The meeting with the dog in the park. The paparazzi shot. The hilarity of being fitted for his tux in Eloise’s studio. These kinds of things did not happen to him.

  Then there had been the fantasy first meeting at Santa Monica they’d devised over a Thai take-out and a good Australian white wine. Against all logic, he’d found himself wishing that meeting had really happened. That he’d met Eloise somehow, somewhere, in a context that had nothing to do with Tori. And that he’d been a man open to love rather than one with a protective shield encasing his heart.