The Yuletide Engagement. Carole Mortimer

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      It had been more out of spite, actually, but she was way past caring about anything Gareth did or said to her. ‘If I turn up alone on Friday evening and the announcement is made—’

      ‘All your work colleagues are going to end up feeling sorry for you,’ Patrick acknowledged hardly.

      Her eyes flashed deeply blue. ‘Yes!’ And the pity of people she worked with on a daily basis—even misplaced pity—was something she just couldn’t bear to think about.

      Even if it meant coming to this man and admitting she had made a mistake in so arbitrarily refusing his offer to act as her escort at the dinner!

      ‘If you agree—if you’re still willing—it will be a purely business arrangement if you consent to accompany me on Friday evening,’ she told him coolly. ‘I will, of course, be paying any expenses you may incur—including the petrol to get us there, any drinks we have to buy, the—’

      ‘Stop right there, Ellie,’ Patrick cut in firmly. ‘When I take a woman out for the evening I do the paying. Okay?

      ‘No, it is not okay,’ she came back, just as determinedly. ‘I’m taking you out. That means I pay. What do you mean, no?’ She frowned as he shook his head.

      ‘I’ll only agree to go if I take you. Otherwise the deal is off, Ellie,’ he added decisively.

      ‘But this isn’t one of your business deals—’ she broke off as she realised she had been the one to say Friday evening was to be treated on a businesslike footing.

      Patrick laughed softly. ‘Ellie, isn’t the important thing here to show this Gareth that you’re more than capable of attracting a man other than him? Which, of course, you obviously are,’ he continued, his grey gaze sweeping over her with slow appreciation.

      Ellie was dressed in one of the suits she wore to work, a fitted black one today, teamed with a blue blouse. Slightly damp from the snow still falling outside!

      Ellie was under no illusions as regarded her looks; at best they could be called pleasant. She was neither fat nor too thin, and her hair—her one good feature as far as she was concerned—was always kept clean and well-styled. Her eyes were a clear blue, her lashes thick and dark, her skin smooth and creamy, but other than that her features were nondescript.

      Which was why, when Gareth had joined the company six months ago—a blond Adonis with warm blue eyes and a charm that drew women to him like bees around honey—Ellie had been completely bowled over by his marked interest in her.

      But she had definitely learnt her lesson where that sort of flattery and attention were concerned, which was why she knew that Patrick McGrath was just being polite now.

      He was watching her with narrowed eyes. ‘How long is it since the two of you broke up?’

      ‘What does that have to do with anything?’ she came back stiffly.

      Patrick shrugged. ‘I was merely wondering why you don’t already have a new boyfriend.’

      She gave a humourless smile. ‘Because after my experience with Gareth I have no interest at the moment in finding myself a new boyfriend!’

      ‘This gets more and more intriguing by the minute,’ Patrick murmured interestedly.

      Ellie shot him a reproving look. ‘Believe me, it really isn’t,’ she assured him dismissively.

      ‘So it’s easier to ask me, a complete stranger, to go to your company dinner with you than it is to complicate matters with a genuine new boyfriend?’ Patrick murmured consideringly. ‘It makes a certain sense, I suppose.’ He shrugged.

      Ellie frowned. ‘It does?’ It sounded rather cold and contrived to her, but other than not going to the dinner at all—which was impossible now that Gareth had told her of the pending announcement of his engagement; she simply wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of just not turning up!—she couldn’t see any other way round the problem.

      ‘It does,’ he assured her enigmatically. ‘Well, as I’ve already said, Ellie, I still have the evening free on Friday.’

      She drew in a deep breath. ‘Then you’ll go to the Delacorte dinner with me?’

      He gave a sudden grin, looking years younger, his grey eyes warm. ‘I thought you would never ask!’

      She wouldn’t have done ordinarily, and they both knew it. But nothing about this situation was ordinary.

      Which was why she was standing here, wearing a revealing red dress and more make-up than she had ever worn before, feeling decidedly like the overdressed Christmas tree that adorned their sitting room—waiting for Patrick McGrath to arrive…

      He was late.

      It was already seven forty-five, and before Ellie had left his office three days ago they had agreed that he would pick her up at seven-thirty, in order for them to drive to the restaurant and arrive a polite ten or fifteen minutes late for pre-dinner drinks. At this rate they would be lucky to arrive in time for the serving of the first course!

      ‘Is he always this unpunctual?’ She frowned at Toby as he cleared away his dinner things, before getting ready to go out himself.

      ‘He’ll be here, sis,’ Toby dismissed assuredly. ‘But I have to leave now.’ He glanced up at the kitchen clock. ‘I told Tess I would pick her up just after eight,’ he added apologetically. He was going to the cinema this evening with his girlfriend of the last two months. ‘Do you want me to try reaching Patrick on his mobile before I leave? Maybe the car broke down or something.’

      ‘Do Mercedes break down?’ Ellie came back dryly, wondering if she was going to get to ‘the ball’, after all!

      ‘Mine doesn’t,’ drawled a familiar voice.

      Ellie gasped, spinning round to face Patrick as he stood in the doorway. She was glad she had already gasped—otherwise she would have done so now; he looked absolutely breathtaking in a dinner suit!

      ‘I wish you wouldn’t keep creeping up on me like that,’ she complained, to cover up the confusion she felt at his appearance.

      Was anyone supposed to be this handsome? This suavely sophisticated? This—this breathtaking? There really was no other word for Patrick’s appearance this evening.

      ‘Will I do?’ He arched mocking brows at her as she continued to stare at him.

      Would he do as what? As a more than adequate replacement for Gareth? Certainly. As a means for making every other woman in the room jealous of her good fortune in having him as her partner for the evening? Assuredly. As a calm and soothing balm to her already battered emotions? Definitely not!

      He was a one-evening-only companion—just a shield for what promised to be a very difficult evening for her. He wasn’t supposed to make her pulse flutter, her knees feel weak, her insides as if they were turning to jelly!

      ‘Ellie is feeling a little—tense this evening, Patrick,’ Toby excused her lightly, picking up his jacket from the back of the chair before walking over to the door. ‘Have a good evening. Want me to wait up for you, Ellie?’ he added mischievously,

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