The Billionaire's Bride of Convenience

‘I’ll have to check my diary and get back to you on that,’ she said. ‘We might have to make it another day.’

‘You shouldn’t be such a gadabout.’

‘You wouldn’t want me to sit at home pining for your father, would you?’

‘Did you ever do that?’

‘Only for the first ten years. So where are you off to tonight, darling? No, don’t tell me. Let me guess. You’ve found yourself a new girlfriend at last, and you’re going to impress her with dinner at Neptune’s.’

Hugh’s eyebrows lifted. It seemed his mother knew him very well indeed.

‘Not quite,’ he replied. ‘I’m taking Kathryn out to dinner as a reward for all her hard work today.’

‘To Neptune’s?’ his mother persisted.

‘Yes.’

‘And she agreed?’

‘Why not? It’s all perfectly harmless.’

His mother laughed. ‘You’re anything but perfectly harmless, darling. Not when it comes to the women you fancy.’

Hugh was struck speechless.

‘You thought I didn’t know?’

Again, he remained silent.

‘I never tell you what to do these days, darling. But I’m going to now. Men who sleep with their secretaries bring a lot of misery, mostly to the secretaries. Especially engaged ones. So take your mother’s advice and keep it zipped up whilst you’re around that lovely girl.’

‘I’ll do that,’ he bit out.

‘Good. I really like Kathryn. If you ever did anything to hurt her, I would be very cross.’

‘Mum, I must go. We have an early booking.’ So saying, he snapped his phone shut and looked at Kathryn.

‘Mum can’t make it to lunch tomorrow,’ he said by way of explanation.

‘What a shame. We always have a nice little chat when she comes to the office.’

‘So I gathered. Look, why don’t we both turn off our mobile phones for the next couple of hours? There’s nothing worse than people ringing you during dinner.’

He watched her hesitate, but only for a moment, before she opened her handbag and switched off her phone. Hugh smiled his satisfaction. Such a small victory, but it pleased him.

‘Good,’ he said and, masochistically taking her elbow once more, began shepherding her across the car park towards the restaurant.

CHAPTER FIVE

NEPTUNE’S was everything Kathryn had thought it would be: very classily decorated, with a magnificent view of Sydney Harbour and a mouth-watering menu that made her uncharacteristically indecisive.

But how did one choose between so many incredible dishes?

Incredibly expensive as well. She wondered what price the wine would be.

‘Stop looking at the prices,’ Hugh said after she’d been staring at the menu for a full five minutes. ‘I don’t give a damn what you order. Just hurry up. I’m starving.’

Still, she dilly-dallied.

‘Why don’t you let me order for you?’ he said somewhat impatiently.

‘Perhaps that would be best,’ she agreed when a waiter materialised at the side of their table.

Hugh told him they were skipping the entrée and going straight to the main course, selecting baby Barramundi, accompanied by an exotic concoction of pasta and vegetables, which she didn’t dare ask the waiter to explain for fear she would sound ignorant. Hugh also ordered some herb bread—to be delivered quickly—and a bottle of red wine which she suspected cost a lot more than the fifteen-to-twenty-dollar specials she always bought from her local wine shop.

The waiter returned with the wine like a shot, Hugh taking his time over the taste-testing before giving his nod for the waiter to pour.

‘I haven’t tried this particular wine before,’ he told her after the waiter departed. ‘A friend recommended it to me. Tell me what you think.’

When Kathryn took her first sip, she literally sighed with appreciation. ‘Oh, it’s lovely.’

‘I’ve had better,’ Hugh said. ‘But it’s not bad. Aah, here comes our bread. And just in time. I’ll need something to soak up the alcohol, if I’m going to drive you home afterwards.’

Kathryn almost spilled her wine. Which would have been a complete travesty. ‘You don’t have to do that,’ she said hurriedly. ‘I can easily take the train. I don’t live all that far from the station.’

‘You think I’d let you walk home after dark?’

‘It doesn’t get dark till after eight,’ she replied, feeling grateful for daylight saving.

‘Which it will be by the time we finish here. Don’t make a fuss, Kathryn. And don’t suggest a taxi. I’m driving you home and that’s that. If you’re worried I might be over the limit then don’t be. I’ll restrict my intake to two glasses and you can drink the rest.’