Desert Wedding. Alexandra Scott

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СКАЧАТЬ so ridiculous that Georgia laughed. ‘You mean that you and I should...? But we don’t even know each other; I hadn’t even seen you until today.’

      ‘Does that matter? Besides, I had seen you several times, even if you had refused to see me.’

      ‘Well, perhaps I did just catch a glimpse of you once...’

      ‘I’m grateful for that.’

      ‘I’m sorry.’ To her own surprise she giggled. ‘But when you’re trying to get over a broken heart—’ heavens, was she really making a spontaneous joke about it? ‘—and trying to throw off a stomach upset...’

      ‘Well, you’re over that, judging by how much you’ve eaten.’ Her hissed protest made him grin but he carried on. ‘But, as for the broken heart, it might help divert your thoughts to perpetrate a con trick on the ex-pat community here. Besides, imagine how Myra Canning would feel if she thought she had put her foot in it so completely.’

      ‘Well, that might give me a certain amount of unkind pleasure but...’ Georgia’s mind was churning with the effort of trying to balance so many conflicting ideas. ‘But...’ and this was the nub of the matter ‘...I can’t see—what is in it for you. You’re not, I imagine, so much into philanthropy that you’d risk damaging your reputation to help me out—someone you barely know.’

      ‘Reputation? Well, I doubt if it’s worth saving, but...of course you’re right. I do have an interest, rather along the lines of your own in fact; there’s someone I want to—how can I put this?—some-one I would prefer to discourage.’

      ‘Oh, of course.’ It was an irresistible opportunity for sarcasm. ‘Men are always being pursued against their inclinations.’

      ‘I didn’t say that.’ He. was amused rather than irritated—that was made clear when he leaned across and touched the tip of her nose with a reproving finger. ‘But surely you realise there are times when a man as much as a woman has to deal with unwelcome advances? What I’m suggesting could be the easiest way of going about it. Anyway, that is the proposal. So, what do you say?’

      ‘Well, I suppose...’ There was her accommodation to think of; even if an alternative were available she would never be able to afford it. ‘It would only be for just two more weeks—’

      ‘Not necessarily,’ Nat intervened swiftly. ‘It can be for as long as you choose to stay.’

      ‘I think—’ hurriedly Georgia made up her mind ‘—it’s a silly idea. I don’t for a moment believe I’ll be propositioned by anyone.’

      ‘You don’t?’ The assessing eyes scanned what he could see of her above the table. ‘Well, I wouldn’t be too sure about that. Especially if you go about dressed like that.’

      ‘What’s wrong with this?’ It was close to a wail.

      ‘I didn’t say anything was wrong with it. Rather the reverse. What I was saying was if you go about dressed like that every frustrated male in the territory, and quite a few of the others, will be homing in on you.’

      ‘Oh.’ She smiled, blushed, pleased in spite of her normal scepticism with the implied compliment. ‘But I wore this specially to...’

      ‘Yes?’ Nat was laughing. ‘You wore it specially to what?’

      ‘Oh...’ She shrugged, wondering how she had embarked on this particular conversation.

      ‘You do realise—’ he leaned across the table ‘—that lots of men are turned on by—by that particular look?’

      ‘What?’ She frowned, the darkly etched eyebrows coming together in a look of concentration. ‘I’ve no idea...’

      ‘This.’ He tweaked the end of her plait. ‘A lot of men find the schoolgirl look irresistible.’ The corners of his mouth twitched.

      Avoiding Nat’s eyes, she raised her glass and stared at it. ‘I’ve always thought that some men have the weirdest hang-ups.’

      ‘Well—’ his voice trembled with suppressed amusement ‘—don’t say you weren’t warned. Anyway, you began to say something; I’m afraid I distracted you. You wore your present outfit specially to...to what?’

      ‘Oh.’ She felt the colour begin to rise again. ‘I suppose to give me courage, to soothe my battered ego.’ She gave a self-deprecatory shrug. ‘You see, when you told me you had a proposal I... I had no idea what you had in mind and... I decided the best thing I could do was to bring out the big guns.’

      ‘I’m very glad you did.’ Though he was no longer smiling, there was a warmth about him, a generosity that raised her pulses very slightly. ‘So glad,’ he went on softly, ‘that it seems almost a pity...’

      ‘What?’ After a moment Georgia found her voice, which was not easy when his eyes were so compelling, almost mesmeric-but surely that had a lot to do with the reflection of so many flickering candles. ‘What seems a pity?’ Still she sounded breathy and unfamiliar, as if she had just competed in a hundred-yard dash.

      After a seemingly endless pause he answered, and there was something slightly forced about his grin. ‘A pity not to show it off a bit more than you’ve done so far, so why don’t we...after we’ve finished eating...go on to the club? They usually have dancing about this time, so why not embark on the great deception?’

      It was strange that his explanation should be such a disappointment. She tried to view the situation with detachment, curious that she was so instantly aware that a rising sense of excitement had to be damped down and... Her eyes searched his face as if trying to discern some flaw. ‘You mean—?’

      ‘I mean,’ he interrupted, laughing, ‘just what I said. Why don’t we finish the evening by dropping into the club on the way home? It will give them all a lot to think about.’

      ‘But what if we see Grev there, maybe even his wife?’ It was almost a wail.

      ‘So? You’re going to bump into them sooner rather than later, in fact I shall be disappointed if they aren’t there.’

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