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

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СКАЧАТЬ look. ‘If he sues you, you needn’t think I’m going to support you. God, what a day!’ she sighed, sinking down onto the edge of the vast four-poster bed and easing off her high-heeled shoes so that she could rub her sore feet.

      Flopping back across the bed, she stared tensely up at the embroidered canopy. ‘And we’ve still got tonight to get through!’

      CHAPTER SEVEN

      ‘OH, COME on, it hasn’t been that bad.’ Gib loosened his tie with a sigh of relief as he wandered around the room, inspecting the wood panelling and the magnificent stone fireplace.

      ‘Not for you, maybe,’ she grumbled, ‘but it’s been a nightmare for me, not knowing what ridiculous story you’re going to make up next, and just waiting for someone to turn round and spot that you’re here under false pretences. I’m going to feel great when that happens, aren’t I?’

      ‘Relax,’ he said soothingly. ‘Everything’s fine. You’re just tired. What you need is a nice bath.’

      Without waiting for her to reply, he disappeared through a door in the panelling, and the next minute Phoebe heard the sound of water gushing into the bath. ‘I’ll bring you a drink, and you can unwind,’ he shouted over the noise. ‘You’ll feel much better then.’

      Phoebe was tempted to tell him that she would be the judge of what would make her feel better, but a wonderful fragrance of foaming bubbles was drifting through into the bedroom and, when it came down to it, the thought of a long hot soak with a long cool drink was immensely appealing. No point in cutting off her nose to spite her face.

      So she leant back against the pillows and let Gib run the bath for her. ‘Your bath awaits, madam,’ he said grandly at last, holding the door open with a flourish.

      The bathroom turned out to be almost as impressive as the bedroom. It was panelled throughout, apart from a deep stone window, just wide enough to stick your bow and arrow through. A stuffed bear’s head was fixed to the wall. There was a selection of imposing antique chests and, in the middle, a vast claw-footed tub, filled to the brim with scented foam. Averting her eyes from the bear, Phoebe saw that Gib had put fluffy towels conveniently to hand on a wooden chair and set out the tempting array of luxurious freebies provided by the hotel along the side of the bath.

      ‘Thank you,’ she muttered, touched in spite of herself by the trouble he had taken.

      He smiled at her, that unsettling, daredevil grin that never failed to make her nerves jump alarmingly. ‘It’s my way of saying I’m sorry,’ he said disarmingly. ‘I didn’t mean to wind you up today.’

      ‘That’s OK,’ Phoebe said awkwardly, feeling as if the wind had been rather taken out of her sails.

      ‘Now, what would you like to drink?’

      ‘Really, you don’t need to—’

      ‘I’ll add it to my expenses if that will make you feel better,’ Gib offered.

      Phoebe wasn’t sure whether being reminded that he was only doing his job made her feel better or worse, but decided in the end that the most dignified course of action would be to relent.

      ‘Something long and cold would be wonderful,’ she said.

      ‘You get in,’ said Gib. ‘I’ll be back in a minute.’

      When he had gone, Phoebe got undressed and stepped into the bath. It was enormous, more of a swimming pool than a bath, and she lay back with a luxurious sigh, immersing herself completely beneath the scented water. Maybe Gib wasn’t so bad after all, she thought as she emerged, blowing bubbles out of her mouth, and smoothing the wet hair back from her face.

      Perhaps she had been overreacting. Gib was right, everyone had accepted him without question and there had been no need for her to be so nervous. She had been wound up about the whole situation, she realised, but in the end it hadn’t been the wedding or meeting Ben or fooling her family that had made her nervous. It had been Gib himself, Gib with his glinting, unsettling smile, and his warm hand on her back.

      You’re beautiful and you’re brave, he had told her, and it had been the look in his eyes she had been thinking about when she watched Ben getting married, not the ache in her heart. The look in his eyes and touch of his mouth and the feel of his palm against her cheek.

      It would have been much easier if he hadn’t kissed her. Really, there had been no need for it, Phoebe scolded herself. If she’d thought, it would have been obvious that no one would expect them to kiss like that in the middle of Ben’s wedding. She should have told Gib that it was a stupid idea and pushed him firmly away.

      Instead of which she had wrapped her arms around him and pulled him closer and kissed him back. A wave of heat that had nothing whatsoever to do with the bath tingled through her as she remembered how it had felt, and when a sharp knock fell on the door her heart jerked painfully.

      ‘I’ve got a long, cold G&T here for you,’ came Gib’s voice. ‘If I promise to keep my eyes closed, shall I bring it in to you?’

      ‘Just a minute,’ she said on a gasp as she slid decorously beneath the deep layer of bubbles. ‘OK,’ she called.

      Gib handed her the drink with a flourish. It looked wonderful, satisfyingly full of chinking ice cubes, a slice of lime bobbing merrily as the tonic fizzed. Her fingers touched his as she took the glass from him. It was so cold that condensation was trickling down the side, making it hard to hold.

      That was the reason Phoebe gave herself for the unsteadiness of her grasp anyway. Nothing whatsoever to do with the warmth of Gib’s hand.

      ‘Got it?’

      ‘Yes. Thanks,’ she added, and then made another mistake of looking up into his face.

      He was studying her with appreciative blue eyes, taking in her bare shoulders rising out of the foam. Her hair was slicked back from her face, unconsciously emphasising her bone structure, and the dark lashes were wet and spiky around the green eyes.

      ‘My pleasure,’ he said, smiling.

      To her fury, Phoebe felt a blush rising up her throat and seeping into her cheeks. ‘I thought you were going to keep your eyes closed?’ she said as severely as she could.

      ‘I was afraid I would drop your drink if I did that,’ said Gib. ‘I’ll close them now.’

      Shutting them virtuously, he proceeded to make a big show of bumping into things on his way out of the bathroom.

      ‘Idiot!’ sighed Phoebe, shaking her head, but in spite of herself she was smiling.

      She didn’t know whether it was the bath or the gin that did the trick, but she was feeling a million times better when she emerged from the bathroom some time later to find Gib stretched out on the four-poster bed.

      He had loosened the shirt at his neck and rolled up his sleeves and was lying with his hands behind his head. He looked lean and lazy, and somehow disturbing, and Phoebe’s nerves, which had calmed down while she was in the bath, instantly sprang to the alert again at the sight of him.

      Gib turned his head as she came out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towelling robe supplied by the hotel, her СКАЧАТЬ