Convenient Engagements: Fiance Wanted Fast! / The Blind-Date Proposal / A Whirlwind Engagement

She would just have to convince him that she was equally businesslike about the whole affair, Phoebe decided. ‘So that’s the first rule of engagement for today,’ she said briskly. ‘No getting involved, or misinterpreting any form of physical contact that we may have today.’

‘Fair enough,’ said Gib with a slight smile. ‘What’s the second rule?’

Good question. Phoebe wracked her brains for something suitable. ‘Stick to the story we’ve agreed, and keep it simple.’

‘And the third?’

‘Two rules is quite enough,’ she said a little crossly. She couldn’t think up any more.

‘OK,’ he said. ‘I should be able to remember those.’

‘You’d better,’ said Phoebe, rather proud of her rules now that she came to think of them. She had made it clear that their relationship today was to be a purely businesslike one, and ensured that there would be no misunderstandings between them. How cool could you get?

Even so, as they left the main road and cut across country towards the castle, she found herself fiddling with the map on her knees, turning over the corner until it was dog-eared and tatty.

Gib glanced at her. ‘Nervous?’

‘Yes.’ What was the use of pretending, after all? ‘Terrified might be a better word, if you really want to know!’

‘What’s the worst that could happen?’ he asked, wanting to make her feel better but not sure how. Weren’t friends supposed to know this kind of thing instinctively?

Phoebe was still mangling the page between her fingers. ‘I suppose that we won’t seem convincing together,’ she said eventually. ‘People like my sister pick up on body language. They’ll be watching us so closely, I’m afraid they’ll see that … you know … that we aren’t really lovers.’

‘You mean they’ll be able to tell just from looking at us that we haven’t even kissed?’

‘Well … yes.’

Gib checked his mirror before pulling over into the entrance to a farm gate. This was one thing he could do to help her. ‘Let’s kiss now, then,’ he said as he put on the handbrake and switched off the ignition.

‘What?’

Calmly, he unclipped his seat belt and reached across to undo hers. ‘You’re the one who’s worried people are going to guess that we haven’t kissed,’ he pointed out reasonably. ‘If we kiss now, they won’t be able to do that, will they?’

‘You’re not serious!’ Astounded, Phoebe struggled to sit up straight, but that only brought her closer to him as he leaned over towards her, so she hastily retreated, shrinking back into her seat.

Gib paused. ‘Don’t you think it’s a good idea?’ he asked. ‘Personally, I think it would be easier to kiss you for the first time when there are just two of us and not in front of an entire wedding reception, but it’s up to you,’ he said, as casually as if they were discussing whether or not to stop for a coffee. ‘Of course,’ he added with a look at Phoebe’s face, ‘if you don’t want to, that’s fine. I don’t want to force you. I just thought it might help.’

‘No … no,’ she said, abruptly changing her mind as he made to sit back. ‘You might have a point there.’

The idea of a first kiss under the interested gaze of assorted family and friends had been enough to make Phoebe blench. Ben might be watching too, and if anyone would be able to tell that she and Gib had never kissed before, he would. No, Gib was right. It was far better to have a go here. At least then she would know what to expect.

‘No,’ she said a little breathlessly. ‘Let’s do it.’

‘OK.’

‘OK,’ Phoebe agreed, moistening her lips nervously.

Gib was disconcerted to discover just how much he wanted to kiss her. Of course, kissing like this wasn’t really what friends did, he reminded himself, and a friend was all he was supposed to be. On the other hand, pretending to be Phoebe’s lover was just a way of helping her out, so he was being a friend. A kiss under these circumstances wouldn’t really count, would it? And it wasn’t even as if it would be a real kiss, he reminded himself, remembering her rules of engagement. Surely even Josh couldn’t object?

Lifting his hand, he pushed the silky hair away from her face. The green eyes staring back at him were wide and distinctly wary, in spite of her decision.

Gib smiled. ‘Relax,’ he said. ‘Think of it as a dress rehearsal.’

He laid his palm against her soft cheek and tipped her chin up with his thumb. Then, very slowly so as not to alarm her, he touched his mouth to hers.

The feel of his warm, firm lips sent a jolt through Phoebe. She had been bracing herself against his touch, but when it came she was still unprepared for the clutch of her heart or the wash of sheer pleasure that lapped along her veins.

It was just pretending, of course. Gib was right, this was only a practice. Still, it did feel nice, she thought hazily. It felt very nice, so much so, in fact, that when his fingers slid into her hair and his kiss deepened persuasively she didn’t try to resist. Instead, she let him push her back into the seat and kissed him back, her lips parting eagerly and her arms winding around his neck, enjoying the tightness of his hands in her hair, holding her still, enjoying the taste of his mouth and the feel of his hard body pressing against hers. Oh, yes, it was very, very nice …

And then, somehow, nice wasn’t the word. Something indefinable changed, banishing niceness, as their kisses became hungrier and more demanding. Lost in the pounding of her heart and the surge of sensation, Phoebe was half-intoxicated, half-scared by the heat flaring between them. It was darkly, secretly exciting, it was dangerously intoxicating, it was much, much more than nice, and it was out of control.

This isn’t what they were supposed to be practising, the thought drifted elusively through Phoebe’s mind, but she was too far gone to care, and it was only when Gib broke the kiss reluctantly that her brain cleared enough for her to think that it shouldn’t have been like that at all. It should have been a chaste little peck on the lips not … not that.

For a long, long moment they could only stare at each other, both breathing raggedly. Gib’s eyes were very blue, their mocking gleam for once entirely absent.

Phoebe’s heart was jerking frantically. She couldn’t have spoken if she had tried. She could only think how close he still was and how easy it would be for them to kiss again. The same knowledge was reflected in Gib’s eyes, and the possibility shimmered tantalisingly in the air between them until he pushed himself abruptly away with a muttered exclamation.

Raking his fingers through his hair, he sat back in the driving seat. ‘Well,’ was all he could say.

‘Well,’ Phoebe agreed unsteadily.

‘I’m glad we didn’t do that in front of your parents.’

‘God, yes,’ she said, appalled at the very thought.

Gib ran a hand over his face and tried to calm his pounding heart. So much for kissing her like a friend! But how had he been supposed to know how warm and exciting and right she would feel? How hard it would be to let her go?

‘Sorry, I got a bit carried away,’ he said after a moment.

‘It’s all right.’ Phoebe drew a shaky breath. She mustn’t let him see how that kiss had affected her. ‘Lucky we agreed that first rule of engagement, isn’t it?’ she said, trying for bright, breezy unconcern but failing utterly to carry it off.

Gib didn’t look at her. ‘Very lucky,’ he agreed dryly.

There was another uncomfortable silence.

Phoebe concentrated on breathing—in, out, in, out—until the deafening boom of her pulse receded and she was able to risk a glance at Gib, hoping to see that he was in a similar state. Of course, that would be the moment he looked at her, and to her annoyance he looked exactly the same as he always did. The lurking laughter was back in the blue eyes, as if they had never held that disturbing expression, as if they had not stared wordlessly into hers barely moments ago. Phoebe could almost believe that she had imagined the way they looked then.

‘You’ve got lipstick on the corner of your mouth,’ she said, surprised at how steady her voice sounded.

He wiped casually at his mouth with his thumb. ‘Better?’

‘Yes.’ She twisted the driving mirror round to face her and made an attempt to repair her lipstick, hoping he wouldn’t notice how her hands were shaking.

He did, of course.

‘Are you OK?’ he asked in concern.

Phoebe snapped the top back on her lipstick and summoned a brilliant smile. ‘I’m fine,’ she lied. ‘Absolutely fine.’