Bridesmaid with Attitude

She let her mouth fall open in exaggerated shock, hoping like mad that he hadn’t caught on to the mortified disappointment that had flashed through her at his abrupt rejection.

‘Why ever not? Surely that’s one of the perks of our arrangement?’

He leant back in his chair and crossed his arms. ‘I don’t make it a habit to sleep with women I’ve just met.’

She gave him a scrutinising look, brazening it out despite the unfamiliar turmoil she was struggling to deal with. Surely she hadn’t lost her touch when it came to charming men? It had never deserted her before. Sex was the one area of her life where she felt she had absolute control, and she wasn’t about to let him chip into it.

‘You mean with women you don’t trust?’

His expression didn’t flicker, but she could tell he was holding something in. It was there in the rigidity of his jaw.

‘What happened to you?’ she asked.

‘Nothing I want to talk to you about.’ He got up and dumped his coffee mug in the sink.

She stood up too and followed him over to the sink, putting her mug next to his and standing a little closer than was absolutely necessary, just to see if she could get another rise out of him. She was having some trouble holding her nerve in the face of his steely resistance, but there was no way she was backing down from it.

Looking up into his face, she gave him a wry smile. ‘Women, huh? We’re nothing but a bunch of harpies and hangers-on.’

The corner of his mouth twitched—she was sure of it.

Score.

‘What are you afraid of?’ she asked, putting her hand on his arm and feeling his tricep tense.

‘I’m not afraid of anything. I just prefer to get to know someone before I have sex with them. It’s a matter of principle.’

She gave a mock teasing pout. ‘Damn your principles.’

He fixed her with a long, hard stare that made her quiver inside.

‘I’m sure you’ll be able to control yourself. And, while we’re discussing it, I want you to agree not to get involved with anyone else while we’re doing this thing.’

‘What?’

‘If you’re on TV there’s a chance the papers might report on any hook-ups you have. I don’t want my mother to hear about them. It would ruin what we’re trying to do here.’

‘So I have to promise to be celibate till this thing is over?’

‘Yes.’

‘And you seriously won’t help me out?’

The impulse to push him into submission was too strong to ignore. She needed to win this now, for the sake of her pride. She ran her fingers gently up and down his arm, feeling him tense even more under her touch.

‘You’re going to leave me in a state of sexual frustration? So cruel!’

He grabbed her arm, wrapping his fingers around her wrist and pushing it against her own body, imposing a barrier between them. ‘I’m sure you can find some other way to satisfy your carnal urges. There are tools for every job. Be creative.’

‘It’s not the same.’

‘You’ll survive.’

She huffed out a sigh, hoping he couldn’t feel the tremble in her hand. ‘Okay, but you have to promise to be celibate too … until this thing is over.’

‘That won’t be a problem.’

She shook her head in disbelief. ‘Are you made of stone or something?’

‘It has been suggested,’ he said, releasing her arm and walking back to the table to push the chairs back under it.

‘Look, if you’re worried this is actually some elaborate plot to trap you into marriage and steal all your money, then don’t be. I have plenty of my own money. I don’t need to steal someone else’s.’

‘It never crossed my mind,’ he said, his back to her.

She couldn’t tell if he was being serious. His tone was so dry it almost cracked the air.

He turned back, his expression closed. ‘We’ve probably got enough information to go on for now,’ he said, ‘and I have things I need to deal with before my mother comes back.’ He pointed a finger at her in a commanding manner, as if she was a naughty puppy. ‘Wait here.’

She watched him stride out of the room, wondering what he was going to fetch. A horse whip, perhaps? Or a pair of shackles? The mere thought of it only intensified the low hum of erotic tension that had plagued her all afternoon.

How could he be immune to the heat between them?

Perhaps she’d pushed him too hard, too fast? Normally it wouldn’t bother her if she made a man uncomfortable with her brazenness, but she didn’t want to jeopardise this thing with Theo.

Truth be told, she was flabbergasted by his assertion that he wouldn’t sleep with her. No one had ever turned her down before, and the challenge of getting him to change his mind had now embedded itself firmly in her mind.

She really wasn’t looking for anything serious, so why the heck shouldn’t they have some fun together? There was clearly a spark of attraction between them, even if he was refusing to acknowledge it.

It wasn’t as if she was under any illusions about where she fitted in the grand theatre of life. She saw herself as the ruthless ex-lover that sweet, wholesome women saved their damaged alpha conquests from. In fact it amused her to think of herself as the facilitator of other people’s Happy-Ever-Afters.

According to the gutter press she had loose morals, but she didn’t cheat or mess around with men already in relationships—that was where she drew the line. She didn’t need undying love from a man; she needed hot sex, excitement and new experiences. The men she dated usually served that requirement, but unfortunately they tended to be self-absorbed and rather vacuous.

Theo was a whole other proposition. Smart, philanthropic and attractive. It was a heady mixture. One she was keen to have a lick of.

He returned a moment later, pen and paper in hand.

‘Write your phone number down on here and I’ll call you later to confirm the details about tomorrow,’ he said, dropping them onto the table.

She dipped into a low curtsey. ‘Yes, M’Lord.’

He flashed her a disparaging look, clearly not in the mood for any more teasing. ‘Let yourself out.’

Swivelling on the spot, he marched away, his feet making a heavy slapping sound on the flagstone floor.

‘You’ve been a great audience,’ she called after him, making sure sarcasm dripped from every syllable.

When she got home to London, the first thing Emily did was call Lula to tell her that she’d ninety-nine per cent sorted out the wedding reception venue problem.