Bridesmaid with Attitude. Christy McKellen

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      He snorted and pushed off from the bench, brushing past her to walk over to the other side of the room.

      The brief contact made something pulse and tighten deep in her pelvis.

      ‘It’s out of my hands,’ he said, his back to her, his upper torso tensing as he braced both arms against the window ledge and stared out through the glass. ‘This house belongs to my mother, although she lives in Spain at the moment and is “allowing” me to live here until I inherit.’

      His shoulders seemed to tense even more.

      ‘She came over to England a few days ago, stuck her nose in here while I was away and discovered that I’ve been hiring out the place for wedding receptions without her consent.’ He turned back to face her and she saw a flicker of embarrassment in his expression. ‘She harangued my events manager until she gave up the details, then phoned around and cancelled all future engagements. I lost my phone in a cab while I was away, so I only found out about it when I got back last night.’

      Emily stared at him in disbelief. ‘Why would she do that?’

      He sighed and rubbed a hand over his forehead, leaving streaks of grease over the ridges of his frown. ‘She’s punishing me for not bending to her will. She thinks I should be married by now and providing her with a clutch of adoring grandchildren.’ His voice dripped with scorn. ‘She’s worried she’s falling out of social step with the cronies she spends all her time lunching with.’

      ‘And you’re going to let her get away with it?’

      His gaze snapped to hers and the indignation in his glare made a shiver run down her spine. ‘You think I have any choice in the matter?’

      If he thought he was going to get her to back down by being hostile he could think again. ‘Why didn’t you tell her about holding the wedding receptions here?’ she asked, keeping her voice firm.

      He sighed and swiped a hand through the air in irritation. ‘Because I knew she’d put the kibosh on it. She considers the idea of making money out of the estate crass, and the notion of her son actually working for a living and “associating with riff-raff”—her words—horrifies her. I should be acting all lordly and extending the family line.’

      ‘Didn’t you see this coming, though? Surely you planned for something like this happening if you were keeping secrets from her? In my experience, secrets never stay buried for long.’

      Although she’d somehow managed to keep her biggest secret buried all these years. She knew it was only a matter of time before it reared its troublesome head, though, and then she’d have some explaining to do.

      Not that she should be worrying about herself right now. This was about Lula and what needed fixing.

      He plucked the spanner out of the pocket of his combats and tossed it into the air, catching it, then tossing it again end to end as he spoke. ‘She’s been threatening to sell this place from under me for years if I don’t fall into line, and I’m guessing it’s all come to a head now because she’s recently split up with her second husband. She’s clearly bored with not having anyone to order around any more, so she’s decided to spend her time making my life hell instead.’

      Emily almost felt sorry for him as she noted the tension in his face. He looked tired—as if he hadn’t slept well.

      ‘Can’t you reason with her?’ she asked, more gently this time. ‘Ask her at least to wait until after Lula’s wedding?’

      ‘I tried. No dice.’

      ‘Is there anything I can do to persuade your mother to let Lula have her wedding here? If you think there is, just name it. I’ll do anything.’ She knew she was beginning to sound desperate, but there was no way she was just going to give in and walk away—not when she’d promised Lula she’d fix this. There was always a solution; sometimes you just had to think outside the box to find it.

      He stopped tossing the spanner and fixed her with a seriously unnerving expression. ‘Anything?’ he asked, raising both eyebrows.

      She took a breath, wondering what she was about to get herself into. ‘Yes.’

      ‘Then you’re going to have to fall in love with me.’

      Theo Berkeley watched in amusement as a range of expressions ran across the woman’s face—from surprise, to disbelief, to confusion and back again.

      She was quite something to look at: tall, with a curvy but well-toned body, and a head of long, blonde-tipped chocolate-brown curls. She also had the most striking eyes he’d ever seen. They looked golden in the meagre light trickling in through the workshop windows, and they glowed with the fiery determination that she’d repeatedly exhibited since walking in here.

      She was for real—he could tell.

      He’d met women like her before—one woman in particular from his past he’d rather not be reminded of had been very much like her—and it made him wary. So much so that when she’d made that move to touch him he’d instinctively snatched her hand away from his chest, as though it might burn him with the fever he felt flickering away at the edges of his memory.

      This woman was dangerous, pure and simple, but he had an idea that he could use that to his advantage if he was careful. He needed someone like her—someone who wouldn’t be afraid to stand up to his mother. Unlike the women he’d most recently dated. If he was going to make the crazy plan he’d been toying with for the last few minutes work, she needed to have the gumption and the initiative to be able to win over his fastidious mother.

      Judging by the way she’d stood up to him this woman clearly had those qualities in abundance, and it seemed like a gift from the gods that she’d landed here in his workshop right when he needed her. It was fate.

      Either that or he was being seriously punished for something.

      She finally seemed to pull herself together and put out a hand to lean back on the workbench behind her, dipping her head and giving him an amused look. ‘You’re kidding, right?’

      ‘Not kidding.’

      ‘Why would you need me to fall in love with you?’

      ‘I don’t, really, but in order to get my mother off my back and be allowed to run this estate as I see fit I need to be able to produce a girlfriend whom she believes is a viable option for future nuptials and the furthering of the family line.’

      She gave an exaggerated shudder at his crass analysis. ‘Why do you need a fake girlfriend? Haven’t you got the pick of a harem of women you can call on for just this purpose, My Lord?’

      He raised a laconic eyebrow. ‘Earls don’t tend to have harems—you’re confusing us with sheikhs.’

      ‘And you don’t have a real girlfriend to dangle under her nose?’ she asked.

      She was not rising to his sarcasm; which impressed him. Normally women would blush and stutter when he was in an irascible mood.

      He gave a terse shake of his head. ‘My life’s complicated right now. I’m trying to build up this business and pay my overheads here. I don’t need the added СКАЧАТЬ