‘A gentleman would take the sofa,’ he said through gritted teeth.
He hadn’t meant to use the word gentleman in that context, as he had in the fiction they had devised to explain their first meeting. And their play on his gentlemanly—or, rather more importantly, his ungentlemanly behaviour. There’d been a distinct flirtatious undercurrent to that conversation—on both sides. But that was only talk. This situation was real and forced them into an uncomfortably intimate proximity.
‘If we can’t agree, why don’t we toss a coin for who gets the bed when we get to the room?’ she said.
‘We’ll see about that,’ he said. No way would he allow her to sleep on a sofa. He could sleep on the floor if he had to.
‘I didn’t realise how stubborn you could be,’ she said, obviously bemused.
He grinned. ‘You’ve got that right. Although I’d say determined rather than stubborn.’
As it turned out, she needn’t have worried about who was or wasn’t going to get the bed versus the sofa. The Silver Trees housekeeper led them into the lift and onto the first floor. The woman opened the door to a luxurious room with an enormous king-size bed and an en-suite bathroom. French doors opened out to a balcony and a view of the garden.
Eloise stared at the housekeeper in ill-disguised dismay. ‘But this isn’t my usual room.’
Josh followed her gaze to the enormous bed that dominated the room. There was no sofa, just a big vintage cane chair that looked exceedingly uncomfortable. But they couldn’t display misgivings. As far as their hosts were concerned, he and his fiancée should be delighted to have that big bed.
He put his arm around Eloise and squeezed her shoulder, hoping she’d get the message she was giving the game away by her show of reluctance.
‘I was told to swap you to this larger guest room, as your fiancé was with you,’ the housekeeper said, obviously confused by the lack of enthusiasm.
‘It’s a marvellous room, isn’t it, honey?’ Josh said.
Eloise’s eyes widened at his use of the endearment. But he was taking the role of fake fiancé and running with it.
She caught on. ‘Yes. It’s a beautiful room,’ she gushed.
‘And so good of you to organise it for us at such short notice,’ Josh said.
The housekeeper looked gratified.
When he was growing up their housekeeper had been a very nice woman. She’d even cried when he and his mother had left. But she’d been too scared of losing her job to come and see them at his new home.
‘We’re thrilled,’ Eloise said, right into the act now. ‘Thank you. And thank you to Mr and Mrs Sanderson for giving us such a beautiful room. We’ll be very comfortable here.’
Comfortable? He had to fight the images of him and Eloise making very good use of that bed. There wouldn’t be a lot of sleeping going on, that was for sure. He wanted her. Badly. But the reasons for it not being a good idea for him to make love with her were still there, clamouring at him to keep his gaze away from the bed and the tantalising possibilities it evoked.
‘Do you need help with your luggage?’ asked the housekeeper.
‘No, thank you, we can get it ourselves,’ said Eloise very quickly.
Josh watched with Eloise until the housekeeper disappeared into the lift and they saw no one else was in earshot.
She turned to him. ‘Only one bed. Not even a sofa. What the heck are we going to do?’
‘I’ll sleep on the chair. Or the floor.’
‘No, you won’t. I can’t let you do that. Either way would be hideously uncomfortable and totally unfair to you when you’re doing me a favour. The bed is huge; we’ll just have to both sleep in it, trying...trying not to be aware the other person is there.’
‘Are you serious? Do you honestly think I could sleep in a bed with you and not be aware you were there?’ An image of her flashed into his mind, of her lying back against the rumpled sheets, her dark hair spilled across the pillows, her shoulders bare, her breasts... Her warm, sexy presence would be the only thing on his mind. ‘That won’t be easy.’
She looked up at him, her blue eyes huge, her cheeks flushed. ‘It won’t be easy for me either, Josh. Please be aware of that.’
Did she realise that knowing she wanted him as much as he wanted her did nothing to make it easier for him? She looked so woebegone he couldn’t stop himself from opening his arms. ‘Come here,’ he said. She went towards him and he enfolded her in a comforting hug. It wasn’t breaking her rule. They weren’t behind closed doors. To anyone seeing them, they were an engaged couple embracing.
‘This is going to be more difficult than I thought,’ she said, her voice muffled against his shoulder. ‘Look how I missed that cue from you back then. The housekeeper must have thought I was very odd not to exclaim in delight at the beautiful room in this amazing mansion. I told you I wasn’t a good actor.’
He pulled back from the hug so that, while she still stood within the circle of his arms, he could look down into her lovely face. ‘You’re doing fine,’ he said. ‘It will be worth it. Just think of the damage that influencer woman is doing to your business.’
‘More cancellations this morning. Vinh texted me before I picked you up.’
‘Put them right back on the bottom of your waiting list when they call wanting to be reinstated, which they will do once they realise they’ve been suckered.’
‘I wouldn’t do that.’
His voice hardened. ‘I would. I told you, I’m vengeful. Loyalty should be rewarded. Not betrayal. How stupid of them to be influenced by that—’
‘That influencer.’
‘That’s the word.’
She laughed and he felt her relax.
‘Let’s try and have fun with this,’ he said. ‘From what you say, it’s going to be a great party. Let’s enjoy it, at the same time knowing we’re sticking it to an enemy of your business. Nothing can be more satisfying than that.’
* * *
Despite Eloise’s protests, Josh insisted on carrying her overnight bag as well as his own while she carried her long dress in a special Eloise Evans Atelier garment bag to their room. He didn’t have to pretend to be a gentleman, she thought, it was obviously innate to him. But she couldn’t help her thoughts from straying to what he would be like when he was being ungentlemanly. In this very room.
She did her best to ignore the contentious bed while she hung her dress alongside Josh’s tuxedo in a matching bag in the wardrobe. She walked over to stand beside him where he stood looking out of the French doors. They opened out to a wide balcony edged with lavishly planted containers and across the garden to the green fields studded with grazing horses.
‘It’s an awesome view,’ he said.
‘The other side of the house, where the family have their rooms, overlooks the lake and the stand of silver birch trees that gives the house its name. This house is incredible, yet it’s a family home. I grew up in a comfortable house in Sydney’s inner west, near Sydney University, where my father taught. I can’t imagine what it must have been like for Simon to grow up with something like this.’ She faltered to a halt. ‘I’m sorry, Josh, you must have lived in a wonderful house before you had to move.’
‘Home was a grand townhouse with a view to Boston Common. My grandparents—ex-grandparents—had a place something like this in Northborough, about an hour out of Boston, that we used to visit. But there are few happy memories. And now I can buy any house I choose to.’
‘Which is a triumph in itself,’ she said, not certain what else to say.
‘I guess it is,’ he said.
Not for the first time, Eloise thanked her lucky stars for the stability of the childhood her happily married parents had given her. She’d long stopped wondering what her life with her birth mother might have been like. However, she sometimes wondered if her parents’ romance had given her unre
alistic expectations of relationships. She’d had her heart crushed a few times by seeing in a man what she wanted him to be, not who he actually was. Craig had played her by pretending to be someone he wasn’t. He’d outright lied and, at the beginning, she’d been so besotted she hadn’t seen the signs. No wonder she was wary of taking a man at face value.
‘Will you be okay here by yourself?’ she asked Josh. ‘I have to go and check everything is perfect with Becca’s dress and the bridesmaids’ dresses. There are only two bridesmaids and a flower girl. Believe it or not, this is a relatively low-key wedding compared to some, as it’s her second. But it’s Simon’s first and he wanted a big celebration. As you said, it looks to be quite a party.’
‘I’m perfectly fine by myself. I’ll see you when you get back.’
‘I won’t be long,’ she said.
There was an awkward moment when she wanted to lean up and kiss him on the cheek but decided against it. No kissing in private.
CHAPTER TEN
FROM THE MOMENT Josh had first laid eyes on Eloise in the park with Daisy he had thought her to be an exceptionally beautiful woman. But nothing had prepared him for the sight of Eloise dressed for the wedding.
Already in his new tux, he’d gone out on the balcony and turned his back while she got ready. It had seemed way too intimate to be in the same room as her while she got dressed. Not that she used the bedroom for changing—the bathroom was there for that. No, it was the private female rituals that only a woman’s lover would usually witness that he found too disconcerting, the primping and preening and perfecting.
What had made him decide to leave the room was when she, dressed modestly in a satin robe patterned with oriental dragons, had leaned in close to the mirror to fasten her outsize earrings. The hairdresser and make-up artist employed by the bride had done her hair and make-up, and Eloise’s thick dark hair had been swept up into a glamorous style. As she’d peered into the mirror her robe had slipped off her shoulders to reveal the nape of her neck, slender and pale. She’d seemed somehow vulnerable and exposed, yet deeply sensual at the same time. He’d been swept by the desire not just to protect her but also to make her his, and he’d had to fight the impulse to press a tender kiss to the base of her delicate nape and slide the robe all the way down off her shoulders.
Instead he’d muttered an excuse that he needed to get some fresh air and headed out onto the balcony. It had been left to his imagination to guess what else she was doing in there—was she wearing anything under that robe?—and his imagination tantalised him. But not once had he looked back to catch a glimpse of her getting dressed. He respected her privacy and dignity too much for that.
Then she was at the French windows. ‘I’m ready when you are,’ she said.
He turned. And could do nothing but stare. His heart started to thud into overdrive and his mouth went dry. She stood in a strapless dress that cupped her breasts, then hugged the curves of her body to her hips before it floated down in a series of layers—he wasn’t sure what you’d call them...flounces maybe?—to the floor. The dress was an iridescent deep blue that picked up the light and shimmered through subtle tones of purple and violet. The colour contrasted with the creaminess of her skin and complemented the cornflower blue of her eyes.
Her black hair was twisted and turned up on her head and, with her deep red lips and highlighted eyes, she looked like some Hollywood movie star of a time long before she was born. Glittering clear stones hung from her ears but she wore no other jewellery save the ruby ring that shone brighter in contrast to the blue dress. He had never seen a more beautiful woman.
He stared at her for so long, she shifted from high-heeled shoe to high-heeled shoe. ‘Do I look all right?’ How could she imagine for even a second that she would ever look anything but much more than ‘all right’?
‘You look absolutely beautiful,’ he said hoarsely. ‘You just need long gloves and a jewelled cigarette holder to look like you stepped out of a vintage movie.’
She smiled, pleased. ‘But if I wore the long gloves it would cover my ring, and what would be the point of that? And of course I don’t smoke.’
‘You look...breathtaking. Are you sure you won’t outshine the bride?’
Eloise laughed. ‘No one could outshine the bride! Her gown is exquisite and she’s glowing with happiness.’
She picked up a filmy blue wrap and a small beaded purse from the bed. ‘We don’t want to be late.’
‘It’s an honour to escort you, Eloise. Truly.’
‘I’m glad you’re here. I wouldn’t have worn such a glamorous dress if I’d come on my own,’ she said. ‘And may I say how handsome you look in your tux?’
‘That’s really thanks to you and your team,’ he said.
‘I don’t know about that,’ she said. ‘I think the very good-looking man wearing the tux is what makes it look so good. They say clothes maketh the man, but in your case I’d say the man maketh the tux.’
He laughed. ‘If you say so.’ He liked her quirky outlook. Honestly, he’d never met a woman like her. Tori was her lookalike, of course, but they were so very different in personality. Eloise was incomparable.
Josh offered her his arm. ‘Let’s go and give that troublemaker influencer something to think about.’
‘Like how to backpedal out of the lies she’s spread about me.’
She tucked her hand into his arm and looked up at him. Again he caught his breath at how lovely she looked, how alluring with the subtle curves of her breasts, the shadow of her cleavage revealed by the strapless gown. ‘It would be a different scenario all together if you weren’t with me, Josh. Thank you again for being here.’
He couldn’t think of anywhere else he would rather be.
* * *
Eloise had never felt more confident entering a room of people than with Josh by her side. Together they walked into the ballroom of the mansion, which had been set up for the marriage service with rows of white chairs forming an aisle and facing the front of the room. While the overwhelming focus of the wedding guests’ interest was on the bride, Eloise soon became aware that her appearance with Josh was causing a secondary ripple of interest. She knew they were noticed as a couple and comments made, and she’d detected several glances towards her left hand. By the time she and Josh made their way to their seats for the ceremony, she felt satisfied the news of her ‘engagement’ was spreading.
Because she knew several of the bride’s friends, and had dressed others as either brides or bridesmaids, Eloise knew quite a number of the other guests. She didn’t look out for @lindytheblonde but she knew she must be there.
If she didn’t have to see the woman ever again she would be grateful. She just wanted her nemesis to know that the basis of her attack had now been proved to be erroneous. Eloise was here with an incredibly handsome ‘fiancé’ and looking her best in a killer dress from her own label. The bride and her attendants were dressed in the most exquisite, money-no-object dresses from Eloise Evans Atelier. That should be enough. If not...well, Josh had presented her with a next-step option she would shudder to take.
She settled in to enjoy the wedding, Josh by her side. No matter her opinion about a wedding for herself, there was something about other people’s weddings that always grabbed at her emotions. The favourite part of any ceremony for Eloise was to see the bride come down the aisle and then watch for the moment when her groom first caught sight of her. In this case Simon didn’t disappoint with a look of wonder and love when he saw Becca walking up the aisle towards him, the joy shining from her.
It brought the sting of tears to Eloise’s eyes. But beyond her usual sentimentality and happiness for her friends, she felt a deep and heartfelt yearning of her own. Would it ever be her? Not so much the dress and the flowers and all the fuss, but would a man ever look at her like that? And would she ever be able to trust a man enough to look at him with such unr
eserved love? For a deeply disconcerting moment she imagined that man was Josh and had to shake the image from her mind.
She clasped his hand tightly. ‘I told you I always cry at weddings,’ she whispered.
Eloise sniffled her way through the rest of the ceremony. Becca’s first marriage had been short and miserable and her friend had vowed never to let a man into her life again. Then she’d met Simon, and risked her heart a second time. How had she found the strength to do that?
The ceremony over, the bride and groom walked triumphantly back down the aisle as husband and wife. Eloise realised she had been holding on tight to Josh’s hand the entire time. He pulled a handkerchief—a crisp, white, old-fashioned handkerchief—from his pocket.
‘You might need this,’ he said quietly.
Her hands flew to her face. ‘Panda eyes?’
He nodded. She scrubbed under her eyes with the handkerchief where she thought the smeared mascara must be.
‘Let me,’ he said, taking it back. She tilted her face upwards. Gently he wiped beneath one eye then another. She sat perfectly still, hardly daring to breathe. Loving his touch, even masked by a handkerchief. He sat back to look critically at his work. ‘Better,’ he said. ‘Although you look beautiful even with panda eyes.’
‘Thank you,’ she said.
She smiled, he smiled too, and their eyes met for a long moment. Was he acting? Without thinking, she leaned across and kissed him on the mouth, a sweet, tender kiss of thanks, of gratitude, of sheer appreciation of how thoughtful he was. It wasn’t staged. She meant it and she was smiling as she pulled away. He was smiling too and there was something warm and questioning she hadn’t seen before in his eyes that sent a tremor of awareness through her. Josh took her hand again and she squeezed it tightly as they rose from their seats. The truth hit her with painful clarity—the truth she had been refusing to acknowledge.
Harlequin Romance April 2021 Box Set Page 25
