Wedding Date with Mr Wrong. Nicola Marsh

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      He shook his head, the fog of confusion increasing as he stared at this virtual stranger acting as if they barely knew each other.

      He’d seen her naked, for goodness’ sake. For a week straight. A long, hot, decadent week that had blown his mind in every way.

      ‘You’re not serious?’

      Her stoic business persona faltered and she toyed with the bracelet on her right wrist, turning it round and around in a gesture he’d seen often that first night in Capri.

      The night they’d met. The night they’d talked for hours, strolled for ages, before ending up at his villa. The night they’d connected on so many levels he’d been terrified and yet powerless to resist her allure.

      She’d been brash and brazen and beautiful, quick to laugh and parry his quips, slow to savour every twirl of linguini and rich Napolitano sauce.

      She’d had a passion for everything from fresh crusty bread dipped in olive oil to hiking along pebbly beach trails to nights spent exploring each other’s bodies in erotic detail.

      That passionate woman he remembered was nothing like this cool, imperturbable automaton.

      Except for that tell with the bracelet he would have thought she didn’t remember, let alone want to acknowledge the past.

      ‘I’m serious about getting down to business.’

      The bracelet-twirling picked up pace, a giveaway that she was more rattled than she let on.

      ‘Plenty of time for that.’ He gestured towards her slimline laptop, the only thing on her desk. ‘What I want to know is why you’ve been hiding behind your PC all this time?’

      Another hit. Her eyes widened and her tongue darted out to the corner of her mouth.

      A mouth designed for culinary riches and sin.

      A mouth thinned in an unimpressed line so far removed from the smiles he remembered that he almost reached out with his fingertip to tilt the corners up.

      ‘I’m not hiding behind anything,’ she said, her tone as prim as her fitted black suit.

      Actually, the suit wasn’t all bad. Hugging all the right curves, flaring at the cuffs and hem, ending above her knee. Combined with an emerald silk shirt hinting at cleavage, it was better than okay.

      He was just grouchy because she wasn’t rapt to see him. But then again, considering the way they’d parted...

      ‘You didn’t think I might like to know that the marketing whiz I e-mail regularly is someone I...’

      What? Once had memorable sex with? Once knew intimately? Once might have given up his freedom for, in another time, another place? If he hadn’t still been reeling from his parents’ revelations?

      Her eyes narrowed. ‘Someone you what?’

      He should have known she wouldn’t let him off lightly. She hadn’t back then either, when he’d told her he was skipping out.

      ‘Someone I know,’ he finished lamely, trying his signature charming grin for good measure.

      Her lips merely compressed further as she swivelled away and strode to her desk. Not so bad, considering he got the opportunity to watch expensive linen shift over that memorable butt.

      Damn, he loved her curves. He’d seen his fair share of bikini babes over the years—an occupational hazard and one he appreciated—but the way Callie had filled out a swimsuit?

      Unforgettable.

      She sat behind her desk, glaring at him as if she could read his mind. She waved at the chair opposite and he sat, thrown by her reaction. Acting professional was one thing. The ice princess act she had going on was losing appeal fast.

      ‘Our fling wasn’t relevant to our business dealings so I didn’t say anything—particularly after how things ended.’

      She eyeballed him, daring him to disagree. Wisely, he kept mute, interested to see where she was going with this.

      ‘I tendered for your account without knowing you were behind the company.’

      Her next sign of anything less than cool poise was when she absentmindedly tapped the space bar on her laptop with a thumb.

      ‘When we started corresponding and worked well together, I didn’t want to complicate matters.’

      ‘Complicate them how?’

      A faint pink stained her cheeks. Oh, yeah, this was starting to get real interesting.

      ‘What do you want me to say? Any shared past tends to complicate things.’

      ‘Only if you let it.’ He hooked his hands behind his head, enjoying the battle gleam in her eyes. At last the fiery woman he knew was coming out to fight. ‘Don’t know about you, but I don’t let anything interfere with my career.’

      ‘Like I didn’t know that,’ she muttered, and he had the grace to acknowledge a twinge of regret.

      He’d used his burgeoning surfing career to end it in Capri. It had seemed as good as excuse as any. He might as well live down to the reputation his family had tarred him with. Anything was better than telling her the truth.

      ‘Is this going to be a problem for you?’

      He threw it out there, half expecting her to say yes, hoping she’d say no.

      He wasn’t disappointed to see her—far from it. And the fact they’d have to spend time together in Torquay to get the marketing campaign for the surf school off the ground was a massive bonus.

      Torquay... Wedding...

      It was like a wave crashing over him. He floated the solution to another problem.

      They’d have to spend time in Torquay for business.

      He had to spend time with his overzealous family at Trav’s wedding.

      He had to find a date.

      A bona fide city girl who’d act as a buffer between him and his family.

      Lucky for him, he was looking straight at her.

      Not that he’d let her know yet. He needed her expertise for this account, and by her less than welcoming reaction he’d be hard-pressed getting her to Torquay in the first place without scaring her away completely.

      Yeah, he’d keep that little gem for later.

      Her brows furrowed. ‘What’s with the smug grin?’

      He leaned forward and nudged the laptop between them out of the way. ‘You want this latest account?’

      She nodded, a flicker of something bordering on fear in her eyes. It might make him callous, but he could work with fear. Fear meant she was probably scared of losing his lucrative business. Fear meant СКАЧАТЬ