A Perfect Proposal. Liz Fielding
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Название: A Perfect Proposal

Автор: Liz Fielding

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Современные любовные романы

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СКАЧАТЬ was beginning to look haunted. ‘Where in the world would I find the kind of woman who’d take on someone else’s child?’

      ‘It’s not that uncommon these days. With the high divorce rate.’

      But that wasn’t the problem and they both knew it. The problem was that no one could ever be as wonderful as Caroline…as perfect as Caroline…as beautiful as Caroline.

      ‘Very well,’ he conceded, finally accepting that she wasn’t going to let the subject drop. ‘The kind of woman who’d be prepared to accept the one-way relationship which is all I could offer?’ That he’d said it out loud, admitted it, was the first step, Jane knew. He glanced at the child, quietly working at her drawing. ‘I know you mean well, but I couldn’t ask it of any woman. Certainly not one with all the great qualities I’d want for Shuli.’

      Jane felt his pain, physically hurting for the man. She wanted to reach across the desk, take his dear face in her hands and tell him that everything would be fine if only he’d trust her…

      Keeping her voice brisk and businesslike, she said, ‘Don’t underrate yourself, Mark. You can offer a lovely home, a comfortable life, friendship. A lot of women would be happy to settle for that.’

      ‘Would they? And how would I know they weren’t just doing it for the money? That a year on this “warm, caring non-smoker with a good sense of humour” wouldn’t be suing for a divorce and a big fat chunk of my assets?’

      He’d spotted the flaw in her suggestion. She’d been sure he would. Well, he’d look for any excuse to evade the issue.

      ‘I think Shuli could be relied upon to see off any pretenders.’

      That, at least, raised a smile. ‘Yes, I suppose she would.’ He sat back, regarded her across the broad desk. ‘You’ve thought this through, haven’t you?’

      ‘Of course. I wouldn’t come to you with some half-baked plan.’

      ‘No.’ He continued to regard her thoughtfully. ‘Tell me, Jane, would you settle for a platonic marriage?’

      This was it. The opening she’d been waiting for. She swallowed. ‘Are you asking me?’ she replied, her voice perfectly calm even while her heart was pounding loud enough to be heard in the next county.

      ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I want to know if you’d marry a man who wasn’t in love with you?’

      She shook her head. More hair slithered from the grip of pins unequal to the task. ‘No, Mark. That wasn’t my question.’ He frowned, and she very nearly lost her nerve. It wasn’t too late to bottle out…‘My question was…are you asking me if I’d marry you?’

      THERE was a moment of perfect stillness while Mark Hilliard tried to decide if Jane was serious.

      She was sitting opposite him, the way she did every working day of his life. She looked the same. Alert, a smile hovering behind her eyes and waiting to break out at the slightest provocation, totally in control of everything but her hair. And waiting for an answer to her question.

      Was he asking her if she’d marry him?

      The answer, of course, was yes. In a purely rhetorical sense. But Jane hadn’t been speaking rhetorically. She was never anything but totally straightforward. She didn’t play games, or tease, or do any of those tiresome female things to get what she wanted. He scarcely thought of her as a woman at all. Which was why she was so easy to work with. To be with.

      She’d asked him a serious question and expected him to give her a serious answer. If he said no, she wouldn’t be offended. This wasn’t about feelings or emotions; it was about a practical solution to a problem that was beginning to affect not just his life but the success of his architectural practice.

      And the longer he delayed before dismissing the idea out of hand the less inclined he felt to do so. It did, after all, make the most perfect sense.

      He knew her so well. There’d be none of that awkwardness inevitable in any new relationship. None of the risk. She was hard-working, kind, loyal and beneath that serious exterior he knew she possessed in full measure that essential GSOH. She knew him, understood him perfectly, wouldn’t expect a thing from him except loyalty and friendship.

      She’d be the perfect wife for him in every way. Whether he’d be the husband she was looking for was something else entirely.

      ‘Would you consider moving in here?’ he countered.

      ‘Give up my job and look after Shuli for you full-time? As what? I’m sorry, Mark. I can see what you’d get out of such an arrangement, but, much as I love Shuli, I don’t see it as a great career move for me.’ She didn’t wait for him to spell out the financial package he would be offering her as his ‘home’ rather than his ‘office’ secretary. ‘Maybe we’d better stick with the advertisement.’

      Shuli, hearing her name, looked up. ‘I’ve nearly finished, Jane.’ And she held up her picture for them to see. Three stick figures beside a house. ‘Daddy, Jane and me,’ she said.

      ‘It’s lovely, poppet,’ Jane said, amazed that the tremor shaking her from the inside out wasn’t evident in her voice. ‘Are you going to draw some flowers in the garden?’ she asked.

      Shuli at least knew what she wanted, and Mark had made an opening offer, although what exactly he was offering he clearly hadn’t thought through.

      Now she’d give him time to meet some of the women who’d undoubtedly answer his advertisement by the truckload. She knew that no matter how nice they were he’d recoil from getting sucked into a relationship he couldn’t control, with a woman who’d expect more from him than he felt able to deliver.

      When she returned to her seat Mark was flicking through his diary, taking advantage of the interruption to change the subject. It didn’t matter, she told herself. She’d put the idea in his mind. There would be another day, another upset. She knew how to be patient.

      ‘I’ve rescheduled the site meeting with the surveyors for tomorrow,’ she said, moving briskly on. ‘Nine-thirty. Bring Shuli into the office and I’ll take care of her.’

      He made a note and then looked up. ‘Would next Tuesday suit you?’ he asked.

      ‘Next Tuesday?’

      ‘I shouldn’t think the registrar will be busy mid-week.’ Then, when she didn’t answer. ‘You don’t want a big wedding, do you?’

      ‘Wedding?’ She felt the colour drain from her face. From being in control, driving the situation, she was suddenly way behind. She’d offered a solution, but she hadn’t been thinking as far ahead as a wedding.

      ‘You wanted to know if I was asking you to marry me. If the choice is you or the advertisement, I’ll take you.’ As a proposal it lacked just about everything. Except the man she loved with all her heart. ‘You were serious?’

      She tried to say yes, but nothing came out as her voice momentarily stuck in her throat somewhere. She cleared it. ‘Yes. I was СКАЧАТЬ