‘Awwww, Brando. I do love you, very much.’ She added a hasty afterthought. ‘And not just because you’ve offered me endless amounts of organising to do. I’m not sure that you or Edgerton are ready for children though.’
‘I think we’re about to prove you wrong.’ He shot her a smile that flipped her tummy. Again. ‘One more thing. The reason I came.’ He fumbled in the pocket of his jacket, pulled out a postcard, and flipped it towards her. ‘Apparently Bryony’s Country House Crisis programme has been inundated with enquiries about you taking your talents to other stately homes. I wanted to make sure I got in first, before you had chance to consider the opposition!’
As she looked at the picture on the card her crazily wide smile, broadened further.
‘Awww, Brando! It’s Dali’s Mae West lips sofa! He made that sofa for the same patron he made the lobster telephones for. This card matches the one I sent in!’
He nodded at her knowingly, and winked.
‘That’s why I chose it, duh, although I never actually read what you wrote on your card at the time. Bryony tells me you claimed on the card to have no matrimonial aspirations, so I’m sorry I gave you such a hard time at first for you being a husband hunter. Turn it over, and read the message.'
‘Brando Marshall would like to be considered’ A sudden whoosh took her voice away as she read on. For a moment her nose stung horribly, and she bit her lip. Keep calm and carry on. Gulping down the spiky taste of tears she kept going. ‘ … would like to be considered for the position as Shea Summer’s husband … ’ She sent him a wavering smile, as she rubbed a tear from the corner of her eye ‘ … because he’s the only man for the job!’
‘The thing is I’d really like you to marry me, if you’d like to, that is?’ He shot her a wicked grin.
‘Awwwwww Brando!’ She leaned across and grabbed a handful of tissues from the coffee table, and blew her nose loudly. ‘I can’t believe you just asked me to marry you – my hair is all wet, I’m not wearing any knickers, and I’m crying.’
‘No knickers, I can definitely work with, once you’ve answered that is!’ His lips twitched in appreciation, as he raised one questioning, slightly impatient eyebrow. ‘So what do you say .… Shea, will you marry me?’
‘I’d love to, Brando!’ She flashed him a mischievous glance. ‘So long as you’re ready to do as you’re told. You do know how bossy I am when I’m not snivelling, that is.’
‘I damn well do! And right now, after two weeks without you, I’ll pretty much promise to do anything you say, so long as you let me take you to bed right now!’
In one leap, Brando was up, and she felt the room spin as he grasped her in his arms, threw her into the air, and whirled her around.
She let out one shriek of surprise, which happily, he ignored, and then she gave in to the delicious thrill, and pure exuberance of his raw embrace.
‘I’ve loved you since the moment I saw you and hauled you into the house the day you arrived by helicopter, and I’m going to carry on loving you. But right now I need to ravish you!’ He swept her across the room, and with one easy swing of his knee he opened the door.
‘Brando! That day, I knew the instant you picked me up that you were completely special, just from the way you made my stomach spin, and I guess that’s when I fell in love with you too. You turned my whole life upside down, and you’ve been shaking me every day since. You could say it was love at first lift.’ She grinned right on up at him, as his erection bumped on her bottom.
‘Sounds right to me.’ He looked down at her adoringly through sooty lashes, and made her heart squish again. ‘Now point me in the direction of your bedroom, and I’ll show you how much I love you!’
Want to read more of Jane’s fabulous romances?
Buy her first book
How to Win a Guy in 10 Dates
Now!
United States of Love
Sue Fortin
A division of HarperCollinsPublishers
www.harpercollins.co.uk
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty One
Chapter Twenty Two
Chapter Twenty Three
Chapter Twenty Four
Chapter Twenty Five
Chapter Twenty Six
Chapter Twenty Seven
Chapter Twenty Eight
Chapter Twenty Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty One
Chapter Thirty Two
Chapter Thirty Three
Chapter Thirty Four
Chapter Thirty Five
Chapter Thirty Six
To my family, with all my love, for all your love.
Chapter One
It was her hair that caught his attention first: short cropped and blonde. White blonde. It was her neat little figure second, and it was the car coming up the road as she stepped backwards off the sidewalk that he noticed last.
Tex Garcia felt like he was moving in slow motion as he lunged towards her, grabbing her arm and hauling her out of the car’s path. She slammed into his chest, and in a reflex gesture he engulfed her in his arms as the car sped by, missing her by inches.
‘Whoa! You got some sort of death wish?’ He looked down at her. Staring back up at him were two startled and confused mossy-green eyes. ‘You just nearly got yourself run over.’
She looked up the road at the offending vehicle as it disappeared out of sight. ‘Th … thank you,’ she stammered. ‘I didn’t see it.’
‘You don’t say.’ He crooked a smile.
‘Well, I think the danger is over now, so maybe you could…’ She regarded his arms still firmly around her. ‘Perhaps release me?’
‘What? Oh, sorry.’ Tex dropped his hands and took a step back. Then, as a precautionary measure, put a hand on her arm and drew her away from the edge of the sidewalk and into the forecourt of the church building. He looked up at his new business premises, wondering what had distracted her. She had been gazing up at the building, poised with a camera in her hand.
She followed his gaze. ‘It’s going to be a pizza place.’ He didn’t miss the derogatory tone in her voice.
‘Really?’ He stole a glance at her from the corner of his eye.
‘Hmm. Apparently some Italian chef has bought it. Nico Garcia. Although I have to admit, I thought Garcia was a Hispanic name.’
‘You don’t sound too impressed.’
‘Ignoring the potential for noisy scooters whining up and down with their delivery boxes full of pizza, I dread to think what will happen to the building itself. I just hope that the planning department doesn’t let this Nico Garcia ruin it.’
Tex sucked in the corners of his mouth to repress the grin that was threatening to erupt. ‘What makes you think it will be ruined?’
‘Not being British, he may not appreciate how old this building really is. It’s got so much history and, okay, it hasn’t been used as a church for a long time now, but it has always retained its dignity.’ She wandered over to the entrance and reached out to touch the solid oak doors. ‘It would be awful if these were changed to some modern glass ones, or those gorgeous leaded and stained glass windows swapped for big, white plastic, double-glazed ones.’
This time Tex couldn’t censor his grin or the small chuckle. He had actually been thinking about changing those old windows
with plain glass to let some more light into the place. She turned and looked at him, her eyebrows darting together. He swallowed down his laugh and put on a straight face.
‘You’re quite passionate about it, aren’t you?’
The frown lifted as she shrugged. ‘I love Arundel. This town’s got so much history. I work part-time as a tour guide so I suppose I’ve grown quite fond of some of the buildings, even if they don’t warrant a mention on the tours.’
He nodded, and as she looked up at the building again, he took the opportunity to appreciate a different view: her neat butt. She swung round too quickly for him to avert his eyes, and for a moment he wondered whether she was some sort of feminist who was about to slap his face. To his relief, it appeared she wasn’t. Instead, she began to inspect her camera and presumably the photos she had taken of the church.
He leant over her shoulder, peering at the small digital screen, taking time to breathe in the soft vanilla fragrance that floated around her hair.
‘What are the photos for?’
‘I like to keep a record of the town. Before and after shots of how things change and develop. I might make a book of them all one day.’
‘Social history in pictures.’
She turned to look at him. ‘Yeah, something like that.’ Switching off her camera, she moved slightly away. ‘You’re American, right?’
‘Sure am,’ replied Tex, tipping his forehead with his fingers in a slack salute.
‘On holiday?’
‘No. Actually, I’ve lived in the UK for five years now.’ He drove down the churning in his gut. It always happened when he thought about his move here and what he had left behind.
‘Oh, I see. If you were a tourist I was going to sign you up for a guided tour.’ She smiled at him. ‘My boss is always nagging me, so at least today I can say I tried. And speaking of which, I had better get on. I’ve got a tour in five minutes and I’ve got to get up to the cathedral yet.’
Tex was aware that a slither of disappointment eked its way through him as she made to head off.
She paused. ‘There’s an open evening here tonight. Get to meet the new owner.’
‘You going?’ he asked.
‘Too right. I need to check out the competition.’
Tex raised his eyebrows in question. ‘Competition?’ She looked so sincere, he almost felt guilty for his deception. Maybe deception was too harsh a word. More like withholding information.
She pointed vaguely in the direction of a building further along the road. ‘I also work in the tea rooms down there a couple of days a week, so I’m curious to find out if we have anything to worry about and what exactly this Nico Garcia has planned.’
He grinned. ‘You never know, you might be pleasantly surprised.’
‘I’m not holding my breath.’
‘I’ll be there tonight. Will be interesting to see your reaction.’ Had he blown it? She was looking at him strangely. He held out his hand, hoping to distract her. ‘My name’s Tex, by the way.’
‘Anna.’
As she put her hand in his, he couldn’t help noticing how small it looked and how soft it felt against his own rough fingertips.
Something akin to an electric shock zipped right through her when she shook his hand. The same something she had been fully aware of when he had leant on her shoulder to look at the camera. It was unnerving. Aware, too, that her heart was now doing its usual skippy thing it always did when she felt attracted toward someone. Anna made a supreme effort to walk calmly away from Tex. It only took several paces before her resolve weakened and she found herself turning round to look at him. He was standing there, hands stuffed in his jeans pocket, watching her.
‘Oh, by the way,’ she heard herself call out. ‘Thank you for saving me!’
He tipped his forehead in that lazy, mock-salute way he had done earlier and treated her to what she could only describe as a laconic Paul Newman smile.
As Anna walked away, she was already mentally going through her wardrobe wondering what to wear that night, and then chided herself. Of course, had he, Tex, not been going, she probably wouldn’t even be thinking about it, but now it seemed incredibly important that she looked nice. ‘Get a grip,’ she said out loud. ‘You’re thirty-five, separated from your husband and definitely don’t need another relationship just yet.’
Despite this pep talk, throughout the guided tour that afternoon, no matter how hard she tried to dismiss thoughts of him, her mind kept conjuring up images of the tall American. The dark brown eyes encased in thick lashes, the dark hair brushed back from his face, a few strands falling forwards. And all set off against a honey-toned complexion.
The main hall of the old United Reformed Church was beginning to fill up with guests, mostly local traders. It was probably out of curiosity rather than any real desire to welcome him into their community with open arms, but Tex wasn’t worried. This way he hoped he would be able to win them over. He had hired in a local outside catering company to organise the food and drinks, as a gesture of his willingness to fit in and support his new neighbours. The fact that the church kitchens were so primitive and in no fit state for him to be able to do justice to any food he cooked, was neither here nor there.
‘You all right, mate?’ It was Jamie, a long-established friend and former colleague of his. ‘Not a bad turn out, eh?’
Tex nodded, thinking yeah, sure it was going okay but shame there was no sign of the little blonde from earlier. Anna. Before he could commiserate further, Yvonne, Jamie’s wife, skipped over.
She gave him a kiss on the cheek before picking up a vol-au-vent from her plate and biting into it. ‘Hiya, Tex. I have to say this food is really lovely. I think this company could give you a run for your money.’
Tex gave her a look of mock reproach. ‘You hush your mouth there, little lady,’ he said, exaggerating his southern drawl.
Yvonne laughed. ‘I do love it when you go and get all cowboy on me, Tex.’
Jamie gave Tex a nudge. ‘That bloke over there, the one looking at your plans.’ He nodded towards the centre table where the architect’s drawings had been carefully laid out around a scale model and cross section of the new premises. ‘See him? I think I overheard him saying he was from the local Chamber of Commerce. Didn’t know if you needed to go and sweet-talk him.’
Tex followed his friend’s gaze, and sighed. ‘I suppose I’d better.’
Tiresome as it was having to suck up to the local hierarchy, he knew it was a necessary evil and so headed off towards the middle-aged, bearded man that Jamie had pointed out. It was then that he saw Anna coming in. He felt himself draw breath. She looked good – her hair styled a bit more choppy, fresh make-up, pretty soft blouse that showed off her tiny frame, skirt resting just above her knees, revealing a fine pair of legs.
She spotted him, broke into a smile and waved. He was aware that he waved back in some klutzy high school way. Damn it! Not only that, but she had noticed, judging by the giggle she made no attempt to hide. He walked over to greet her.
She was still smiling. ‘You made it then?’
‘Sure. Had no choice.’ He really should tell her, before it all got out of hand and she found out for herself.
‘Mr Garcia!’ Tex heard a voice behind him and groaned inwardly. Too late. Anna was peering about, no doubt trying to work out which one was Mr Garcia.
‘Mr Garcia!’There it was again, except closer this time. Then Tex felt a tap on his shoulder.
‘Argh, Mr Garcia, sorry to interrupt. I just wondered if we could have a quick word. I’m Richard Harrington, Arundel Chamber of Commerce.’ He was by the side of Tex now, holding out his hand.
Tex shook hands. ‘Pleased to meet you.’ He turned to Anna whose mouth was working but no sound coming out. ‘Could you just excuse me a moment, Anna? Maybe we can talk later?’ Her eyes hardened as she nodded. Computation complete. Oh yeah, she’d worked it out.
‘We certainly can talk later, Mr Garcia,’ Anna said, the
smile now nowhere in sight.
So he thought he was clever did he? A proper smart-arse. Nico Garcia or Tex, or whatever his blasted name was. Anna glared at the American’s back as he chatted to the Chamber of Commerce guy. Despite her bad temper with Tex, she couldn’t fail to acknowledge the broadness of his shoulders underneath the crisp, dark suit. He looked even more attractive tonight, all spruced up, shirt and tie. He really did scrub up well. Stop! She must stop thinking like this about him.
‘Hello, Anna.’ It was Andy Bartholomew, the curator of the museum at Arundel Castle.
Great, just what she needed. Handy Andy, as he was unaffectionately known amongst the female tour guides, and it was certainly nothing to do with his DIY skills.
‘Hello, Andy,’ she replied politely as she shifted around him, looking for an escape route, someone else she could suddenly develop the urgent need to speak with.
The Little Shop of Afternoon Delights Page 68
