Marry Me: The Proposal Plan / Single Dad, Nurse Bride / Millionaire in Command. Lynne Marshall

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say something that he knew would provoke her. ‘Part of the reason for you wanting to get married is a subconscious desire to fit in with your social group. And Ed will never ask you unless he’s painted into a corner, because when you pare it right down, he has nothing to gain over and above what he’s already getting from you. He has the freedom to keep his own social life; he has you looking after him from every angle. And the pair of you already fit in with all his mates. Why go and spend a fortune making it official? Eventually he probably thinks he’ll ask you to move in with him, but, hey, there’s no rush.’

      His sideway glance to measure her reaction told her he knew perfectly well that he was making her angry. Her head ached and her brain felt as if it were swathed in cotton wool. She didn’t have the energy to explode at him as she normally would. Instead she settled for sharpening her tone.

      ‘To be perfectly honest, Gabe, this amateur psychology rubbish is starting to get on my nerves. All I want is a few pointers. I don’t want or need my whole life deconstructed.’ She stood up, wincing at the throb in her head at the sudden movement. ‘I’m starting to wish I’d never told you about any of this.’

      He shrugged. ‘No problem, Lu. I thought you wanted my help, and I’m not going to just tell you stuff you want to hear. That’s not how I work. I’ll give you my opinion and then it’s up to you how you act on it. But what I’m saying is, if you change nothing about your relationship, if you carry on playing the part of a wife before you actually are one, then don’t expect Ed to propose to you any time soon.’

      ‘I don’t expect him to propose any time soon. I’m going to propose to him. Isn’t that the whole point of this?’

      ‘Of course. But don’t you think it makes sense to work out why he hasn’t taken the bull by the horns himself? Then you can make changes that keep him on his toes and stop him taking you for granted. You have to admit that would be a good thing for your relationship. He doesn’t seem to feel like he has to make any effort with you at the moment, does he? I mean, just look at him last night, sulking into his whisky glass at the end of the table. I’d be surprised if he said more than ten sentences to you all night. Why does he think it’s OK to treat you like that? He might have had a bad day, but that’s no excuse. I’ll tell you why—it’s because you let him think it’s OK.’

      She looked at his serious expression. The problem with her friendship with Gabriel was that their usual sparring was self-perpetuating. She heard herself talk to him sometimes and thought she really was just arguing for argument’s sake because she never wanted to be the one that gave in. She couldn’t fail to see that he had a point and she would be an idiot not to accept it. Too tired to keep bickering, she sighed. ‘OK, OK, I’ll admit I can see where you’re coming from.’

      To his credit Gabriel obviously knew her well enough to restrain himself from making any gesture or sound of triumph, simply nodding in agreement, and so she felt able to continue calmly rather than taking the plunge back into the row that any crowing on his part would have provoked. ‘Where do we go from here, then?’ she asked. ‘I’m putting myself in your hands.’

      He began jogging lightly on the spot. ‘Well, the next logical step is your appearance, of course. We’ve covered your social life, we’ve looked at the way you react and respond around Ed. Now, you need to make him sit up and take notice. We start with how you look and then we move on to the way you behave. Right?’

      ‘Right,’ she repeated, with more conviction than she felt.

      ‘Good,’ he said in a businesslike tone. ‘Then as you’re obviously desperate to quit running you can go home now. Meet me on Thursday night in the city centre.’

      Her heart sank.

      Lucy locked the door of the cake shop behind her and listened until the alarm system finished beeping and set itself before heading to her battered yellow Mini car. It was already dark outside and she cursed the car’s next-to-useless heater, which roasted her right foot but left the rest of her freezing cold as she made her way through the steady traffic into the main city centre. Towards the shops. The knot in her stomach wouldn’t go away. She didn’t like clothes shopping and applauded the ascent of the Internet, where she could buy what she wanted online in the comfort of her own sitting room, a cup of coffee to hand, and send back anything she didn’t like. She had aspirations to extend her cake business one day to encompass online shopping.

      Sighing to herself as she parked, she realised that if she wanted to keep expanding her business then the cash investment that seemed so important to Ed wasn’t likely to be a reality any time soon. Still, Ed would understand that, she was sure. He was as steady as a rock, one of the things that attracted her to him. Not unpredictable or headstrong. Not like Gabriel at all, she thought unexpectedly, and frowned. She had no place thinking that, she admonished herself. It was of no consequence to her how Gabriel differed from Ed; she wasn’t one of his endless stream of girlfriends, thank goodness. She had no idea how they put up with him, not knowing if he would be there for the next date or not. She easily silenced the small voice at the back of her mind that protested that unpredictable was a million times more interesting and exciting than steady. It was also a million times less safe.

      It was Thursday night, late-night shopping in Bath, and Gabriel had ‘called in a favour’, as he described it, and organised a personal shopping session for Lucy. Not necessarily to buy anything, he had placated her when she’d raised a frugal eyebrow—Gabriel had expensive tastes and she really didn’t need that kind of encouragement. But to try on a few new things and look at the kind of thing men apparently liked their women to wear. According to Gabriel this was a world apart from what women thought men liked them to wear.

      ‘A subtle distinction, but by the end of today I think you will agree an important one,’ he said confidently as he led the way into the heart of the city on foot, having parked the Aston Martin close enough to her Mini to make it look shabbier than ever. Bath looked beautiful in the dark, lights from the shops brightening the cobbled side streets. ‘A few changes and it could kick-start your relationship. Ed won’t know what’s hit him.’

      ‘I’ve never had any complaints before,’ Lucy pointed out. ‘In fact, Ed’s really good about complimenting me on my appearance. He always notices when I get my hair cut. He likes the way I look.’

      Gabriel nodded admiringly. ‘He’s got his head screwed on, I’ll give him that. Always stick to the rule.’

      ‘What rule?’

      ‘You know, if you can’t say anything good, then don’t say anything. She always looks beautiful, especially in the morning, and if she ever asks you if something makes her look big the answer is always no.’

      ‘Even if it does?’

      ‘Especially if it does.’

      Lucy stared at him. ‘Is there really this underlying theme of men playing some kind of game with us or are you just messing about?’

      She sounded shocked and he slowed his pace to a stroll and looked at her with a grin. ‘Maybe I’m overstating it a bit,’ he said. Then he raised an eyebrow as he apparently debated the question to himself. ‘Though not that much. There is something of an unwritten rule for men.’

      She looked at him quizzically.

      ‘You learn about it as you go along. It’s not worth the grief sometimes to be brutally honest so you tell her what she wants to hear and then enjoy your quiet life. Men don’t notice what women wear half as much as other women do.’

      ‘In that case what

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