Convenient Engagements: Fiance Wanted Fast! / The Blind-Date Proposal / A Whirlwind Engagement. Jessica Hart

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СКАЧАТЬ her when she was going out with Ben was standing next to her, rabbiting on about some skiing holiday, but Phoebe was too busy wondering where Gib was and what he was saying to concentrate. She nodded and put in an occasional ‘yes’ or an ‘oh, really?’ while her eyes scanned the crowd with increasing nervousness.

      There he was! Phoebe’s gaze did a double take and swung back to where she had spotted Gib sitting at a table with—oh, God!—her parents and Lara, and they all seemed to be getting on famously.

      Typical, she fumed. There must be a hundred strangers here Gib could have picked to sit and make small talk with, but no! He had to choose the three people who were most likely to interrogate him closely and pick up on any weaknesses in their story!

      Hastily grabbing a couple of vol-au-vents and a chicken leg, Phoebe muttered an excuse and, leaving Vanessa still yapping about drag lifts and chalet girls, fought her way across the room towards him to try and stop him before he embellished any more aspects of their supposed relationship. It took ages, though, as people kept hailing her, all delighted to see her again and eager to tell her how much they liked Gib.

      He was so charming, they told her.

      So funny.

      So interesting.

      ‘So attractive!’ sighed more than one girl enviously. ‘You are lucky, Phoebe.’

      Hadn’t she told Gib very clearly to stick to neutral topics? It didn’t sound as if he had listened to a word she had said, Phoebe thought furiously. Far from lurking quietly on the sidelines talking about the weather or the lack of hold-ups on the motorway, he had obviously been in the thick of things, circulating breezily and talking to everyone who knew her!

      Smile fixed, she agreed for the umpteenth time that Gib was wonderful and struggled on through the tables to her family.

      ‘Ah, there you are!’ her mother waved gaily and Gib turned quickly to see Phoebe suck in her breath to squeeze in between two chairs, holding her plate high to clear the heads. She looked hot and flustered, and beneath her hat he could see that her jaw was gritted and her smile decidedly brittle.

      He got to his feet and pulled out a chair for her to sit down beside him. ‘I lost you,’ he said, taking the plate from her as a precautionary measure. Now that she was close, he could see that her eyes were flashing an unmistakably irate message, and he didn’t want vol-au-vents all down his suit. ‘I was hoping you’d find me eventually.’

      ‘Gib’s been keeping us entertained,’ Lara told Phoebe, who was half tempted to refuse to sit next to Gib but couldn’t think of a reason that wouldn’t make her look childish.

      ‘So I saw,’ she said rather grimly instead as she sat down in the chair he still held.

      ‘He’s been telling us all about how you met,’ Lara went on. ‘You never told us it was quite that romantic, Phoebe!’

      Romantic? What had he been telling them? Phoebe looked at Gib with foreboding, which only deepened when she saw his eyes dancing. She wished they wouldn’t do that. It only made her more nervous.

      ‘I didn’t tell them everything,’ he assured her, straight faced, and to Phoebe’s consternation her family laughed merrily, as if he had already told them more than enough.

      ‘Perhaps I should know what he did tell you,’ she said, holding on to her temper with difficulty.

      ‘He said it was a very easy mistake to make.’

      ‘And that it was wonderful to meet someone without any preconceptions about him.’

      ‘Yes, and that one of the reasons he loves you is that you just don’t care what he does.’

      They beamed at her.

      Phoebe looked at Gib. ‘Is that right?’ she said, unable to think of anything else, other than the obvious option which was that she had no idea what any of them were talking about.

      ‘I didn’t tell them what an idiot you felt when you realised that I was the president of the bank and not the layabout you thought I was when you were trying to get an interview.’ Gib’s eyes gleamed with appreciation as he saw her struggling to come to terms with the sheer nerve of him. ‘You were expecting the president to be someone a lot more formidable, weren’t you, darling?’

      Somehow Phoebe managed to stretch her mouth into a ghastly smile. ‘It was quite a surprise,’ she said.

      ‘I must say, darling,’ said her father, ‘you might have told us what Gib did. You just told your mother he worked for a bank, as if he was some teller. I felt a complete fool when I realised!’

      ‘It sounds wonderful, too,’ said Lara, equally impressed. ‘It’s not as if an ethical bank is something to be ashamed of. Not like … I don’t know … being an arms dealer or a politician or something.’

      Gib put a consoling arm around Phoebe’s shoulders. ‘But that’s exactly what I love about Phoebe. She just doesn’t care what I do or how much money I have.’ He smiled teasingly into her eyes. ‘You love me for what I am, don’t you, bunni—’ He pretended to catch himself up guiltily. ‘Don’t you, honey?’

      ‘You know exactly how much I love you,’ she said, meeting his gaze directly, and he laughed and released her.

      ‘What did you feel when you found out that Gib was actually the president?’ Lara asked eagerly. ‘You must have felt a bit stupid, didn’t you?’

      ‘To tell you the truth,’ said Phoebe, a decidedly crisp edge to her voice, ‘I didn’t believe a word of it!’

      ‘President!’ she bit out the moment the door to their bedroom closed behind them. The guests had begun to drift away from the reception and they had a couple of hours to recover before they had to go back down for dinner and dancing. ‘Couldn’t you have chosen something a bit more likely, like Chancellor of the Exchequer or Director General of the United Nations?’

      ‘I always fancied myself running a bank,’ said Gib by way of an excuse.

      ‘Why stop at a bank? Why not pretend you were President of the United States?’

      ‘They would have known that wasn’t true.’

      Phoebe ground her teeth at the reasonableness of his tone. ‘Whereas, it’s so believable that you should be running your own bank?’

      ‘They did believe me, didn’t they?’ he replied, unanswerably.

      ‘I thought we agreed that you would stick to our story?’ she accused him, wrenching off her hat. She had a massive tension headache, and the champagne she had been reduced to gulping to cope with the stress of Gib’s increasingly ridiculous lies hadn’t helped any.

      ‘No more variations, we said. Now I’m not only supposed to be engaged to you and spending the night with you, I’m an accessory to illegal impersonation! Have you thought what will happen if J.G. Grieve hears that you’ve been impersonating him?’

      ‘I don’t think that’s very likely,’ said Gib soothingly. He hadn’t been able to resist the temptation to tease Phoebe a little by elaborating on the basic outlines they had agreed. ‘How’s СКАЧАТЬ