Misbehaving Under the Mistletoe (Mills & Boon M&B): On the First Night of Christmas... / Secrets of the Rich & Famous / Truth-Or-Date.com (Mb)

by Heidi Rice

  Andy gave a little chuckle. Oh, Saffie. No flings for me. The last thing I need is another boyfriend.

  This was her time to make a new life for herself! And she could hardly wait.

  Grinning from ear to ear, she only took a moment to leave the hand-embossed envelope with the friendly receptionist at the main desk, who promised faithfully to make sure that Mr Jason Gibson received the letter the moment he got back.

  Tugging down her warm jacket, Andy stood outside in the warm sunshine, head back, her messenger bag across her body, and closed her eyes.

  Finally! Now she could relax.

  Except that as she dropped her shoulders and inhaled, the most delicious aroma of freshly roasted coffee and baking filled her head and set her stomach growling.

  Why not? The sun was shining, and she had just delivered the last VIP invitation. She could spare a few minutes to buy some lunch as a treat.

  Strange how just the smell of that coffee took her straight back to the coffee shop and the way Miles had stirred his cup of coffee three times, clockwise, before taking a sip. She had never seen anyone do that before. Not adding sugar or cream, just stirring the grounds in the coffee.

  He was such an interesting man. Pity that she would probably never see him again. Because the more she thought about him, and it was bizarre how often his face popped into her head, the more she wondered what he was really doing there that evening.

  Of course she was flattered that he had come to meet her, the girl who had written to him, rather than Elise, but she was not stupid enough to think that a man like Miles would ever date her.

  He was a chancer. A player. Turning on the charm to persuade a girl to provide some temporary amusement for him while he was in London.

  And he had obviously done it before.

  Well, not this girl. Not even if he was arrogant and bossy and funny and intriguing and all wrapped up in a gorgeous hunky package.

  Shaking her head, she caved in and took the few steps across the street to the ornate French patisserie and coffee shop. Ah. Temptation came in so many forms.

  Miles was just as luscious and bad for her health as the wonderful creamy cakes and pastries artfully arranged on glass shelves in the window.

  Andy stepped into the shop with a skip in her step and a smile on her lips.

  And froze. Her breath turning to ice in her lungs.

  Because sitting at a corner table, laughing into the face of a glamorous blonde girl, was Miles.

  Not that he was paying any attention at all to the customers waiting at the bakery counter.

  Oh, no.

  Miles was far too busy running the fingers of one hand up and down the blonde’s arm, while the other hand rested on her knee. Her V-neck blouse had been designed to make the best of her substantial assets and he certainly seemed to be appreciating them. At very close range.

  The blonde was wearing a very red short skirt that highlighted her perfect slim figure, high-heel red mules and had tanned bare legs that seemed to go on for ever. Her make-up was perfect, her long straight blonde hair salon sleek and overall she was just about as different from Andy as it was possible while still being in the same species.

  Little wonder that he had now started to play footsie under the table.

  Andy could have marched in playing the trumpet and Miles would not have noticed.

  The cheek of the man!

  Only a few days ago he had asked her out to dinner, and yet here he was, laughing and chatting up another girl in a coffee shop. And look at him! Short hair. Flash black business suit. Where had the sportsman gone?

  She had been right all along. He was just another executive looking for a girl to adore him and tell him how marvellous he was. A chancer, pushing his luck in the hope that he would pick up some temporary female by dazzling them with his full-on charm offensive.

  And if that blonde he was pawing was eating a Panini she would scream.

  Andy glanced at their table. Of course. How silly of her. No carbs would contaminate that beautiful creature’s lips.

  Which only served to make her even more of a fool than she had been before.

  This was the man she had been dreaming about every night, reliving his kiss and his gentle touch. While he had spent the time since they met on the lookout for his next date.

  She had fallen for his little game. Which was so infuriating that she could hardly speak.

  If there was any justice in the world, she should leap onto a table and denounce him to the world. But she wouldn’t. There were limits to how much humiliation she was prepared to put up with, and she had already wasted enough time on this one.

  Then her breath caught in her throat.

  Miles pushed back his chair, whispered something to the glamorous blonde, who giggled in reply, then he stood up and started walking towards the counter.

  Perhaps he had recognised her and wanted to warn her off?

  But instead of scooting back outside, her feet felt as if they were glued to the floor and belonged to someone else, leaving her standing there like an idiot, staring at the shelves of baked goods as he casually strolled up and stood not more than a foot away.

  And did not say a word to her. Nothing. Not even a curt hello.

  In the second it took him to place his order for two more cappuccinos she gave him the once-over.

  Someone who knew hair had given him the perfect tousled cut. The other evening his overlong dark chocolate hair had kept falling forwards but now it was smart city-boy short over his ears. With an edge.

  He was wearing a black shirt, suit jacket and black trousers, which made him appear a lot slimmer and narrower in the shoulders. She could tell that it was expensive designer black, but he looked so different. Professional, businesslike and a lot paler than she had remembered. He must keep his rough-and-tumble charm and all-weather gear for outside work. Shame. Although she hated to admit it, she had liked that about him.

  And he was still totally ignoring her. Which was more than rude.

  ‘This is new,’ she said to him in a low calm voice. ‘I thought ordering from the table was more to your liking. Or have you decided to join the common people for a change?’

  Miles turned to look at her with a smile, then glanced around as though looking to see who she could be speaking to.

  ‘I’m sorry but I think you have the wrong person.’ He shrugged, and then he added with a dismissive smile, ‘I just have one of those faces,’ and turned back to the counter where the barista was loading his coffees onto a tray.

  What? Wrong person? One of those faces?

  He turned and smiled at the blonde, and the penny dropped. Of course, Miles would not want his new date to think that he made a regular habit of meeting girls in coffee shops. No wonder that he was pretending that they had never met.

  So she stepped forward and stood so close to him that their shoulders were touching, which seemed to startle him a little. ‘I am so sorry about leaving so quickly the other night.’ She swallowed down her nerves and gave a small cough. ‘But thank you again for the dinner invitation.’

  Miles looked at her with his mouth slightly open, blinked several times, then licked his lips and nodded slowly.

  ‘I’m sorry. Have we met before? Which evening was this?’

  The barista chose precisely that moment to bring the second cappuccino to the bar and must have overheard what Miles said because he instantly covered a snigger with his hand.

  Brilliant. First Miles pretends he does not know her, and then even the barista starts sniggering at her.

  She gave the barista a freezer glare, which sent him scurrying back to the coffee machine.

  Come on, girl. Get it over and done with.

  ‘Does online dating ring a bell? Monday evening?’ she snapped, in a small, trembling voice, and lifted her eyebrows.

  He stared at her with a tight closed mouth for so long that she wondered if he was okay, then suddenly Miles leant against the counter, his brows tight with conc
entration.

  ‘Online. Right.’ Then he nodded his head, just the once, his eyebrows headed skywards and he flashed her a polite smile. ‘Of course. Andy. You have to be Andy. Well, I am delighted to see you, but, tell me, how did you manage to track us down?’

  Andy closed her eyes and counted to ten but he was still looking at her when she blinked into his wide-eyed face. ‘I am not a stalker. I haven’t tracked you down and I didn’t know that you would be here. Okay?’

  She lifted her chin, straightened her back to try and gain another few inches and planted a hand on each hip. Suddenly furious. Miles didn’t respect her—he didn’t know how. He was just like all of the other people—just like Nigel—who had used her over the years, and then walked out and pretended that she was not important as a human being. And she was not putting up with that. For one more minute.

  ‘I cannot believe that I actually wanted to apologise to you for the other night. Well, Mr hot surfing sportybloke, you can forget it. Forget that you kissed me, forget that you asked me out on a dinner date. In fact, it would be better if you forget that we ever met. And here is the drink I owe you, since you like water so much.’

  And without thinking past the fury of the blood rolling in her veins, Andy picked up one of the water jugs brimming with ice cubes from the counter and poured the whole lot in one single gush all over the very startled head of the handsome idiot.

  ‘Goodbye. We will not be meeting each other again.’

  And with that, she clenched her teeth, turned on her heel and walked slap bang straight into a solid mass of man muscle.

  ‘Well, that would be a real pity because that was the most fun I’ve had around here in a long time.’

  It was him.

  Right down to the hair and the attitude and the voice and a presence that made every other man in the room suddenly look smaller.

  Andy reared back in shocked silence, opened her mouth to reply, then looked up into the face of the Miles she recognised from the coffee shop, and then back to the version who was still standing next to the bar, and then back to the man she was pressed up against.

  Twins. Identical twins.

  Oh, dear.

  Her Miles lifted an eyebrow at her and, blast him, his gaze moved slowly from the tips of her comfy old green walking shoes to the red tartan beret she had chosen as a last-minute hat seconds before leaving the house to go to the museum.

  She didn’t like being trapped between this tall hunk of man and the solid wooden bakery counter. And she especially didn’t like the fact that just looking at him, and inhaling his manly scent, had something pinging low in her belly.

  It was just muscles, she thought in annoyance and frustration, and tried to stare him out.

  Lunch. That was it. She needed lunch … At … the … museum.

  She looked over at his twin, who was now being swabbed at with paper napkins by the glamorous blonde girl. His eyebrows were high and he was clearly waiting for an explanation as to why there were ice cubes in his hair.

  She needed to get out of here.

  ‘Wait a minute.’ She blinked, trying to be casual. ‘Whose date was I on last week? Yours—’ she thumped him on the chest with the heel of her hand, which only made her hand sore and he didn’t even blink ‘—or—’ her fingers waved towards the man with the coffees ‘—the other yours?’

  The suit coughed and tugged at the surfboard cufflinks in his tailored slim-fit black shirt before picking the ice cubes off his lap and stretching one arm out. ‘Miles, over to you,’ he replied.

  The only sign that he felt even the tiniest bit guilty was a slight bunching of his jaw.

  Andy whirled back to muscle man and her brain made the connections at lightning speed.

  Go for it.

  She took a breath and her words came tumbling out. ‘I was honest with you from the start. I am not, and never have been, a stalker.’

  She held her breath, not knowing what Miles would do.

  ‘So just what are you doing here? Andy?’ he asked, and took a step closer, so that her back was pressed against the counter. His hands were pushed inside the pockets of his cargo pants and he looked annoyingly casual and in control.

  ‘Well, I certainly didn’t come looking for you,’ she snapped. ‘But if you must know, I have been making a delivery to the office across the street.’

  He glanced quickly through the coffee shop window, then back into her face and then inhaled sharply through his nose. ‘Do you mean the Cory Sports office? I’ll take that look as a yes. So are you a messenger service?’

  ‘No! Well, yes, but no.’ She shook her head. ‘Elise asked me to help her organise a fundraiser event and I painted the invitations myself.’ She pointed to the office. ‘I didn’t want it to get lost in the mail so I delivered it myself. Okay?’

  ‘So now you’re an artist as well as a personal assistant and a messenger girl?’ he asked in a voice of molten chocolate spiked with hot chili.

  ‘Oh, that is just for starters. I have so many talents it’s hard to keep up,’ she answered in a low hoarse voice, her eyes locked onto his. And this time she had no intention of looking away first.

  The air was so thick with electricity between them she could have cut it with a knife. Time seemed to stretch and she could see the muscles in the side of his face twitching with supressed energy, but she was not going to give in.

  ‘My, it’s awfully hot in here,’ the suit said as he stepped in front of his brother, breaking their connection and creating a space just large enough for Andy to step through, fully aware that she was still being glared at.

  ‘Apologies for the misunderstanding.’ The suit sighed, brushing the water from his trousers. ‘That explains a great deal.’ Then he stretched out his wet hand and shook hers as if he were about to hold a business meeting.

  ‘Jason Gibson. Cory Sports. It appears that you have already met my brother, Miles. Delighted to meet you, Miss …’

  Andy shook Jason’s hand and tilted her head to one side, determined not to take the bait. ‘Cory Sports? Ah. Fancy that. Enjoy your coffee.’

  And with that she tugged the strap of her bag higher onto her shoulder, darted out of the patisserie, turned and gave the two men with the same faces who were both standing there, watching her, a small one-handed finger wave before the ornate painted glass door closed behind her.

  Jason rocked back on his heels for a second before sniffing and glancing at Miles.

  ‘You kissed her? And set up a dinner date?’

  ‘Yes. And yes. I thought Mayte’s new place.’

  ‘Good choice,’ Jason replied, with a nod towards the door. ‘You had better get after her, then. Because, brother, I think you may have just met your match and you still need a date for the sports awards. Maybe there is something in this online dating after all?’

  CHAPTER FIVE

  MILES winced with pain from his knee as he half jogged across the cobblestoned side street. He had a cane back in the apartment but he would be damned before he used it in public … But the agony was worth it, because Andy was still waiting to cross the busy main road, her gaze focused on the contents of the messenger bag across the chest.

  ‘Andy—wait up,’ he called.

  Her head shot up like a meerkat and she looked from one side to another before half turning back towards him. Instantly her shoulders slumped and she sighed and shook her head in disbelief.

  ‘What? Have I not embarrassed myself enough for you for one day?’

  She lifted both hands in the air and pretended to surrender. ‘Okay. I admit it. I faked being Elise when I wrote those emails to the dating agency. There. Done. Can I get back to my life now please? I hope you have better luck with the other lucky ladies.’

  She glanced at her watch and winced. ‘Lovely to chat but I need to be somewhere. Bye.’ She turned on her heel and lifted her chin as she strode out into the sunshine. Opaque black tights. Green laced flat shoes. A navy padded jacket above a preppy red tartan swing ski
rt with a matching beret.

  Her outfit was bright, colourful and in his eyes looked as sexy as anything. Correction—she looked as sexy as anything. What had he told Jason? That he was looking for some life and colour to make London bearable?

  Well, he was looking at the perfect example right now. In the shape of a girl who had made him laugh not once, but twice. And that took some doing.

  He hadn’t met a girl as open and expressive as Andy for a very long time. If anything she was too open. Too honest.

  Miles slowed his pace.

  The self-protection mechanisms he had built up after Lori dumped him were still there, at the back of his mind, reminding him that he had made the same mistake with her. He had believed her, trusted her, shared his dreams and goals, given her everything. Everything.

  And she had turned out to be just one more charming, beautiful gold-digger who was happy to be with him for as long as he was useful to her.

  So why was he chasing a girl down a London street when his self-defences were screaming that Andy almost seemed to be too good to be true?

  Well, there was only one way to find out. No way was he going to let Andy escape that easily. Not without her last name and a phone number.

  He needed a date for one night.

  And one night only. Not a relationship. Not a lover. A date. And Andy could be exactly the breath of fresh air that he had been looking for.

  She marched ahead, totally engrossed in the busy traffic, and only stopped to glance behind her as they stood on the pavement waiting to cross the street. Andy whirled around to face him, her brows squeezed together, hands planted firmly on each hip. ‘Are you following me? There are laws against that, you know. Are you really so bored?’

  ‘I might be, or I could just be walking along, enjoying the fine weather.’ He whistled casually. ‘And I am not bored in the least. In fact, my day has suddenly become a lot more interesting. It isn’t often that someone gets the better of Jason Gibson.’

  ‘Right.’ Then she ran her fingers back through her hair, slipping off her beret. ‘Look, Mr Gibson. I have already apologised for the pretence. Elise had to go overseas at the last minute and she really did not want to reschedule the coffee date. But I made a mistake. I … I should have insisted that she write her own emails to the guys she was interested in … I was interested in. Oh, you know what I mean.’