his drink. ‘Do you love me?’
Riana placed her hand over her heart. ‘I thought we had a future together.’
‘Riana. Of course we do. A future of fun, sport, holidays…’
She opened her mouth, but the words wouldn’t come.
Stuart sculled the contents of his glass. ‘You’re not exactly marriage material, are you?’
‘Not marriage material!’ She held her hands tightly on her lap, willing her legs to work, to get up, to get away, but she could barely breathe, let alone walk.
She was numb.
He wasn’t serious about her. Not serious at all, and she’d just made a giant fool of herself, blurting out what she felt, yet again, to a man out to break her heart if she let him.
She stared at the man opposite her, watching his lips move, trying to take in his long-winded explanation over the rush of blood to her face and the heavy weight in her chest.
She choked back the burning sensation in her throat. She wasn’t going to be Mrs Brooks. She wasn’t going to be Mrs Anybody.
She wasn’t ever going to find someone to love her, and the fact tore through her heart, ripping all her dreams to shreds.
CHAPTER THREE
JOE rearranged the tripod for the tenth time, standing back to assess the angles.
Thank goodness Tara Andrews had been around to let him in an hour ago. It had been late but she’d understood his need to get the equipment set up right for tomorrow. So much so that she’d left him to it, with exact instructions on how to lock up when he left.
Tara looked a lot like her sister, but had shorter hair, a far more cool and calm demeanour and a few years more experience in the world.
Joe rolled his shoulders, trying to dispel the tension. He wasn’t sure what it was about today that sat uneasily in his chest. The lighting had been good. The models fantastic. The gowns awesome. Riana sure had a flair for the exquisite in her designs.
He looked through the lens. What was it that was off? Wrong? Off kilter? He couldn’t put his finger on it…
He shook his head. Whatever it was he’d have to sort it out tonight for the re-shoot tomorrow. It was an absolute pain but he wanted to get it perfect for Riana.
‘Marry me?’
Joe spun around at the woman’s voice.
Riana stood in the doorway in a tight red dress that caressed her curves, accentuating how womanly she was. Her shoulder-length hair spilled around her shoulders like ebony waves, her lips pouty, her eyes wide and on him.
She leant heavily on the door-frame as though her legs weren’t strong enough to hold her, a bottle dangling from one hand.
He frowned as the label became clear. Vodka. Half gone. What was going on? ‘What—?’
She staggered forward. ‘I said…Will you marry me?’ she slurred.
He shook his head. He couldn’t be hearing right. Or he was hallucinating. What was she doing here at this hour? Drunk? And proposing? He shook his head, trying to work her out. ‘What—?’
She lifted the bottle and pointed it at him. ‘Have you got a hearing problem?’
Joe slipped his hands into his pockets, eyeing her warily. This didn’t feel like her at all. ‘No,’ he said carefully. ‘No hearing problem.’
‘Then?’ She opened her eyes wide and waved her free hand in a circle as though she was rolling the tape faster.
She wanted to marry him? His blood heated. Did she like him? Was frustration behind her behaviour towards him today? ‘Why on earth would you want to marry me?’
‘Apart from your charming smile and scintilating wit…’ She tried to smother a laugh, and failed. ‘Because—’ her voice broke ‘—because Stuart didn’t propose at all. He didn’t want me to marry him, he just wanted me to go to ski with him in the Alps…when he got bored with his friends.’
He cringed. The poor girl. She’d been so fired up earlier that the bloke was the one for her…
Riana shook her head, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. ‘He must have seen the look on my face.’ She sighed heavily. ‘And asked me what was up, so I told him…that I thought he was going to propose to me.’
Joe ran a hand through his hair. Hell. Talk about putting herself on the line. ‘And?’
She took a gulp from the bottle, and gasped as the liquid slid down her throat, waving her free hand in front of her mouth as though the air would cool her mouth.
How was she drinking the stuff straight? If she was out to get herself blind drunk she certainly was on the way.
‘And apparently he’s so rich…his family has social standing…somewhere…and he made it abundantly clear that I wasn’t…marriage material.’
Jeez, the guy was a total jerk. Wasn’t it enough to break her heart? Did he have to drive what was left of her into the ground? ‘So…’ he offered cautiously.
She lifted her chin, took another swig from the bottle and swayed. ‘So, I’m not his girlfriend any more.’
He stiffened.
She staggered forward, leaning against a chair. ‘I’m the only one now who’s a hopeless loser…I can’t find anyone who wants to marry me.’
Joe ran a hand through his hair, his chest tight. This was the last place he’d expected to find he was needed. And she was the last person he expected to need him. ‘Riana—’
She staggered across the room. ‘I thought I’d be fending off the proposals by now.’ She waved her arm around wildly. ‘But…apparently…I’m all right for a bit of fun but not—’
Joe moved forward, his attention on all the cords, stands and equipment around the room. The last thing she needed was to be a damaged designer. ‘Hey, there’s nothing wrong with you.’
She brandished the bottle, staring at him, her dark eyes blazing. ‘Yeah, right. Nothing. Then why am I alone again? Have you any idea how many boyfriends I’ve had?’
He shook his head. He could imagine. She was beautiful. Not the cover model sort of beautiful, but the smooth-skinned, bright-eyed, sweet-faced sort of beautiful that made your loins ache and your blood heat.
She stabbed the bottle of spirit towards him. ‘I don’t know either. I’ve lost count. It’s so depressing, isn’t it?’
He shrugged casually, inching closer to her, around the spotlights. He needed to make her safe, before something else happened to her. ‘You weren’t dumped every time?’ he asked, more to make conversation than satisfy his curiosity. She couldn’t have been. Who in their right mind would want to dump her?
