His Marriage Ultimatum

He didn’t even give her a chance to say goodbye before he put the phone down.

She changed three times before one o’clock, but when the doorbell sounded and she gave a final glance in the mirror she was satisfied the alpaca tweed coat worn over a cashmere ivory polo-neck minidress would do for both the theatre and the restaurant later. And the dress had always particularly suited her.

She was wearing the minimum of make-up, just a dusting of ivory eyeshadow to highlight her eyes and a little mascara, and she had decided to pull her hair back into a knot on top of her head. It was a somewhat severe hairstyle for the weekend but somehow she felt it sent a message after their earlier conversation, a re-emphasis that she was not up for grabs. She wrinkled her nose at herself. If he could have women like Carmen on his arm she really didn’t know why he was bothering with her in the first place. Perhaps his intentions were strictly honourable and above board, but just in case…

‘Hi.’ He presented her with a bunch of flowers as she opened the door, bending closer to her, and she smelled the faint scent of sharp lemony aftershave. It was a very male smell and frighteningly seductive. The big body was clothed in charcoal trousers and a black leather jacket and was even more seductive. She tried very hard not to think about that.

‘Hello.’ She took the flowers and then realised they meant she had to ask him in. ‘Take a seat for a moment while I put these in water, and—’ belatedly she remembered her manners ‘—thank you,’ she added a little stiffly.

He looked all shoulders and muscle and endless legs, and he grinned at her. She had noticed before how his smile mellowed the hard planes and valleys of his strong face, and his voice was smokier than ever when he said, ‘My pleasure,’ before glancing around. ‘This is nice,’ he said appreciatively. ‘Have you lived here long?’