can say that I didn’t want to marry you. Which is true, after all,’ he added, smiling.
‘Very funny.’
‘It is, rather, if you stop to think about it. I can’t imagine two more unlikely lovers.’
‘Well Gran doesn’t know that, does she?’ Laura snapped, piqued by his remark.
‘No, she doesn’t. Of course, there is one other solution to your problem.’
‘I can’t imagine what.’
‘Of course you can’t. You don’t have an imagination.’
Laura rolled her eyes at him. ‘Then enlighten me, oh brilliant one.’
‘I could go with you to your grandmother’s place this weekend and pretend to be your Mr Right.’
Laura almost spilled the rest of her drink, but she soon gathered her usual poise and gave Ryan the drollest look. ‘And why, pray tell, would you do something as sweetly generous, but as patently ridiculous, as that?’
WHY indeed? Ryan wondered as he quaffed back a good portion of his drink.
He suspected it was because the idea amused the hell out of him. He rather fancied the prospect of Laura having to act the part of his doting girlfriend.
But of course he could hardly say that. And there was another reason, one which might convince the surprisingly sentimental Laura into going along with his suggestion.
‘As I mentioned before,’ he said, ‘I have a soft spot for grandmothers. Mine was marvellous to me. I don’t know what I would have done without her.’ He certainly wouldn’t have gone on to be a success in life. She was the one who had first taken him to soccer—even though he was a little old at thirteen to take up the sport, which was why he ended up a goalkeeper. And she was the one who had made him believe that he could put the past behind him and become anything he wanted to be.
‘I’ve always regretted that she died before I could give her all the good things she deserved in life,’ he added. More than regret—remorse was more like it. He hadn’t realised until she was gone just how much she’d done for him, and how much she meant to him. He’d cried buckets when he found out she’d died, though not in front of any of his teammates. He’d been a very selfish twenty-two at the time and had just been signed to his first contract with a premier league English team. He hadn’t returned to Australia for his grandmother’s funeral, another deep regret.
He’d been touched by Laura sitting with her grandmother all night, not wanting to leave her to die alone. Clearly, the old lady meant a lot to her.
‘It’s obvious that you’re very close to your grandmother,’ he said.
‘I am,’ Laura said, her voice sounding a little choked up. ‘She raised me after my parents were killed in a plane crash.’
‘I see …’ And he did see. His grandmother had raised him after his own mother had died.
Damn it all, but he didn’t want to think about that!
‘So what do you say to my suggestion?’ he asked, not feeling quite so amused any more. But it was too late to retract his offer.
Laura’s expressive eyes showed considerable reserve. ‘I have to confess that I’m tempted. But I’m not sure we could bring it off—pretending to be lovers, that is. I mean, we don’t even like each other.’
‘True,’ he said bluntly.
‘You don’t have to agree with me so readily,’ she snapped. ‘What is it, exactly, that you don’t like about me?’
He smiled. ‘You don’t really want me to tell you that, do you?’
‘I certainly do.’
‘Okay, you asked for it. First there’s your appearance.’
‘There’s nothing wrong with my appearance!’
Ryan raised an eyebrow sardonically and infuriatingly she felt herself blush. He continued, ‘Then there’s your manner.’
‘What’s wrong with my manner?’
‘Well, “ice queen” would be an understatement. Of course,’ he went on, unbowed in the face of her outrage, ‘If I could persuade you to let your hair down in more ways than one, then it’d be a breeze. Do you think you could do that?’
‘I’m not going to tart myself up for the likes of you, Ryan Armstrong,’ Laura pronounced huffily.
‘And there we have the main reason that I don’t like you: because you don’t like me.’
‘No,’ she bit out. ‘I don’t.’
‘Why not?’
‘You don’t really want me to tell you that, do you?’
He chuckled. She might not have an imagination but she did have a sharp wit. ‘Actually, I’m not so sure that I don’t like you,’ he said. ‘You are very amusing company.’
She made no comment, just gave him another of her dry looks.
‘Do you have a boyfriend, Laura?’ he asked abruptly.
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ she retorted. ‘If I had a boyfriend do you think I would be in this damned awful predicament?’
‘Having a boyfriend does not equate with your finding Mr Right. But let me rephrase that—are you sleeping with anyone at the moment?’
Her eyes grew even colder, if that were possible.
‘I’m between boyfriends at the moment,’ she said tartly.
‘Ah.’
‘And what does that mean?’ she demanded to know.
‘Ah just means ah.’
‘I very much doubt that. You think I’m not capable of getting a boyfriend, don’t you? You think I’m too cold.’
Wow, he thought, how right you are. But rather fascinatingly frosty. What he wouldn’t give to have the chance to melt some of that ice. Unfortunately, a man could get frostbite trying.
He’d have to watch himself with her this weekend.
‘What I think,’ he said after careful consideration, ‘Is that you’ve been hurt by some man in your past which has given you a jaundiced view of the male sex.’
The slight widening of her eyes showed him he was on the right track with his analysis of her character.
‘Lots of
