Happily Ever After...: His Reluctant Cinderella / His Very Convenient Bride / A Deal to Mend Their Marriage. Sophie Pembroke

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СКАЧАТЬ glitterball, but she had been wrong. The outfit looked amazing even with bare, pale legs, minimal make-up and a ponytail. Her stomach fluttered at the thought of really going out dressed like this; hair, make-up, accessories. Raff on her arm.

      If she could just walk in the shoes that would be a considerable bonus.

      A rustle from the other side of the curtain alerted her to another person’s presence. Raff must have returned.

      Clara took another look in the mirror. Was that really her? So elegant? The shoes added another four inches to her height, giving her legs the illusion of endless length. The urge to hide, tear off this costume and become her own safe self again was almost overwhelming but Clara sucked in a deep breath. She would walk through the curtain; she would show Raff.

      She would hopefully see that heat in his eyes again.

      Heart hammering, the wobble in her step not solely caused by the unfamiliar heels, Clara pulled the curtain open, a self-deprecating remark on her lips. But there was no need to utter it.

      The room was empty. Another rail of clothes and matching accessories had joined the first one.

      Her stomach plummeted as the adrenaline disappeared. It must have been Susannah she had heard. ‘Fool,’ she muttered. Clara chewed her cheek, indecisive. Should she wait, try on something else, look for him? Unsure, she walked to the door and peeked out, worry turning to irritation as she saw him, right in front of the door, deep in conversation with a small brunette who was smiling up at him.

      ‘Clara?’ Darn it, he had spotted her. ‘Sorry, I bumped into an old colleague.’ Was it her imagination or did he hesitate over the word ‘colleague’?

      ‘Hi, I’m Lisa.’ The brunette smiled over at Clara. ‘It’s so great to see Raff. I thought he was in Afghanistan.’

      She thought what? Beach bum or adrenaline junkie, either way Afghanistan was the last place Clara imagined Raff Rafferty.

      Or was it? A picture flashed into her mind. That first afternoon, his face grey with weariness, the kind of weariness from hours and hours of travel, sitting in trucks and small airport waiting rooms not from the pampered world of First Class. The battered jeans, the old kitbag.

      None of it had added up at the time but she’d been so convinced that she knew the man she was dealing with she hadn’t even stopped to consider that her preconceptions might be skewed.

      ‘No, not this time,’ he said with a quick glance over at Clara. Was that embarrassment in his eyes? ‘I was in Jordan. We’re trying to make sure there are some medical facilities in the camps there but I was needed at home so had to take some leave. How about you?’

      Lisa blushed. ‘I’m based back in the UK at the moment. Did you know I married Mike, Dr Hardy?’

      ‘I had heard. Congratulations. I did a brief stint with him out in Somalia. He’s a great bloke.’ Again a swift, almost pleading glance at Clara.

      Somalia, Afghanistan, Jordan? Polly had said that Raff was abroad, she had been dismissive, giving Clara the impression that he was partying on a beach somewhere, not working in some of the most dangerous places in the world. Wasn’t she worried about him?

      ‘Mike is setting up a paediatric programme here in London for kids that just can’t be treated in the field so I’m based here too now. It’s not the same but there’s a lot to do. Actually...’ Lisa eyed him speculatively ‘...this could be a massive piece of luck running into you like this. What are you doing in five weeks’ time? Will you still be here?’

      ‘I think so. Why?’

      Lisa clasped her hands together and looked up at Raff hopefully. ‘We’re holding a fundraising ball, all the great and the good digging deep, you know the kind of thing! We had Phil lined up to speak but he had to pull out. Could you speak in his place?’

      Raff shifted from foot to foot, his expression one of deep discomfort. Clara watched him with some amusement.

      Good, she thought, let him get out of this.

      ‘People don’t want to hear from me,’ he said eventually. ‘They want to hear from the medical teams. They’re the ones with the real stories.’

      ‘We have doctors and nurses and helicopter pilots and patients,’ Lisa assured him. ‘But no one understands that without you guys there wouldn’t be a hospital—or water or electricity or a single bed. Turning a dusty piece of desert into a hospital? That’s the real heroism. We just turn up when it’s ready for us. Don’t you agree?’ she asked Clara.

      Clara looked at Raff with her most innocent expression. ‘I really do,’ she said. ‘He’ll be there, don’t worry. I guarantee it.’

      ‘Really? That’s brilliant. Raff, come along to the office this week and we’ll sort out slides and I’ll let you know how long you have to speak for. Make it funny but real as well, try and make them cry. That’s always worth a few more noughts on the cheque!’

      ‘I’ll see what I can do.’ He slid his gaze over to Clara. ‘I’m sure Clara will be happy to help me. You’ll have a bit longer to wait for that cake though, Clara. You need a dress fit for a ball, and a pair of glass slippers too.’ His eyes dropped to her feet, wobbling in the thin-heeled sandals. ‘I’ll tell Susannah to bring the highest she can find.’

       CHAPTER SIX

      CLARA UNZIPPED THE silver shift and let it spill to the floor. She knew Raff was on the other side of the curtain but his silence was absolute.

      Fine, if that was the way he wanted to play it, there was no way she was going to be the one to crack.

      She bent down and picked up the dress, carefully putting it on the hanger. Still no sound, not even a sigh. Anticipation clenched at her stomach as she slipped the next outfit, a wide-skirted silk affair in a vivid green, off the rail and put it on, barely bothering to check the mirror before wrenching the curtain aside.

      ‘And?’

      He was sitting on the sofa, lounging back seemingly without a care in the world. ‘The shoes don’t go.’

      ‘They go with the other dress. I didn’t change them.’ Seriously? Shoes? That was what he was thinking? She wouldn’t ask, she wouldn’t, she wouldn’t... ‘Okay. Spill.’ For goodness’ sake, her self-control was legendary. She prided herself on it! But the need to know was burning her and she didn’t want to examine why. ‘Who was that?’

      Raff got to his feet with leonine grace and sauntered over to the rail. ‘I think we agreed on the red shoes for that outfit, didn’t we? It’ll work very well for lunches. What?’ He was regarding her with faint surprise. No wonder. Clara was aware she resembled a fishwife more than a lady-who-lunches, hands on hips and head back. ‘I did introduce you. That was Lisa. We worked together.’

      ‘Yes, in Somalia,’ Clara said as patiently as she could manage. ‘Why were you in Somalia?’

      ‘I worked with her husband in Somalia,’ Raff corrected her. ‘I knew Lisa in Sri Lanka. I think...’ he finished doubtfully. ‘It might have been Bangladesh.’

      ‘Mercenary СКАЧАТЬ