and she would make any man look more than twice—but he really shouldn’t take this any further. They were going to keep this strictly professional. ‘I’ll let you get back to whatever you were working on,’ he said. ‘And thank you.’
‘Last thing,’ she said. ‘What about an engagement present?’
‘It’s all taken care of. And the card.’
‘How much do I owe—?’ she began.
‘It’s all taken care of,’ he repeated, cutting in. ‘Really. I don’t expect you to pay a penny towards this.’
‘Can I at least take your mother some flowers, as we’re staying at your parents’ place?’
He frowned. ‘That’s very suitable behaviour, Bella.’
‘Actually, it’s common courtesy to take a present for your hostess,’ she corrected. ‘I don’t mind people thinking I’m an airhead and unsuitable, but I do mind them thinking I’m rude and selfish. So. Flowers or chocolates?’
‘She’s a chocolate fiend. Dark. But you don’t have to—’
‘Yes, I do,’ she cut in. ‘Or the deal’s off.’
And hadn’t he asked her to help him partly because she was so outspoken and independent? ‘OK,’ he said.
‘Good. And now I’m going back to what you pay me to do,’ she said, and sashayed out of the room. As much as you could sashay in jeans and flat canvas shoes.
But the images in his head wouldn’t shift all day. The curve of her backside. The confident, brisk way she moved. That spark of merriment in her blue, blue eyes. The curve of her mouth.
How would her mouth feel against his? Would she make his lips tingle as much as his skin? And how would it feel to lose himself inside her?
There suddenly wasn’t enough air in the room. He walked over to the window, opened it and shoved his head out. Maybe the noise from the traffic would clear his head.
It didn’t.
‘Get a grip, Moncrieff,’ he warned himself.
This was strictly business. Letting his imagination loose was a seriously bad idea. He wasn’t going to let himself think about what it would be like to touch Bella. To kiss her. To hold her close. This pretend girlfriend business was just to get him off the hook with his family. And, the more he kept telling himself that, the quicker he’d start to believe it.
‘ARE YOU SURE this is a good idea, Bel?’ Grace asked.
‘Going to Oxfordshire and pretending to be Hugh’s unsuitable girlfriend? Possibly not,’ Bella admitted. ‘I did tell him I thought it’d be a better idea to be straight with his family and get them to see his passion for his work. But he’s adamant that this is the best way to get them off his back—and I guess they’re his family, so he should know the best way to handle them.’
‘I don’t mean just that,’ Grace said gently. ‘I mean getting involved in your boss’s personal life.’
‘I’m not getting involved in his personal life,’ Bella insisted. ‘Apart from the fact that I’m officially off men for good, I’m just doing this as a favour.’
Grace winced. ‘To make up for me throwing up over him in the taxi?’
‘No,’ said Bella firmly. ‘No.’ Though he had hinted at it. Which had made it easier for Bella to say yes. Not that she wanted Grace to worry about it, so she kept that information to herself. ‘He just needs someone to help him make his family back off. And I kind of fit the bill.’
‘So you’re going to a posh afternoon tea party wearing a skin-tight leopard-print dress,’ Grace said.
‘Yup. And I’ve got tiny, tiny shorts and high-heeled mules for the country walk the next day. And, best of all, for the cocktail party... Meet my alternative to the little black dress.’ Bella produced the curtains she’d found in one of the charity shops, flapped one with a flourish and draped it over one shoulder. ‘Ta-da!’
Grace blinked. ‘You’re wearing a curtain to a cocktail party?’
‘Not quite—it’s going to be a proper dress. Only I’m making it from a curtain instead of from normal dress fabric. Em said she’d come round tomorrow, measure me, and we’ll cut it out and run it up together.’ Bella grinned. ‘This is where going to art school comes into its own. I know loads of people who can help. I just thought, what could be gaudier and more unsuitable for a black tie cocktail party than a mini-dress made out of a curtain?’
Grace eyed the orange flowers. ‘Um. Very nineteen-sixties.’
Bella’s grin broadened. ‘And it’s so The Sound of Music, don’t you think?’ She draped the curtain over the back of her sofa, pulled Grace to her feet, and danced her sister around the tiny living room, all the while singing, ‘How Do You Solve a Problem Like Maria?’ but substituting her own name in the song.
‘You’re impossible,’ Grace said, but she was laughing.
‘I’m a genius. And I’ve just had another great idea. We can have takeaway pizza tonight and watch The Sound of Music together. I love that film so much. And we can sing “Do Re Mi” in harmony—I’ll even let you pick your part.’
Grace hugged her. ‘I know what you’re doing, Bel. You’re trying to distract me. But I’m OK. Really. The hard bit was last weekend and breaking up with Howard. The temp agency’s found me some work, I’ve got a couple of weeks to find a new flat before I have to move out of mine, and you’ve been the best sister and most brilliant support anyone could ask for. My new life starts now, and it’s going to be just fine.’
‘I still worry about you,’ Bella said. She didn’t quite dare ask if this was how Grace felt about her, most of the time. Grace had had to rescue her often enough from some scrape or other.
‘I’m fine,’ Grace reassured her again. ‘But, yes, we can order a pizza and watch a film tonight. That sounds good.’ She took a deep breath. ‘And if this engagement party goes horribly wrong next weekend, just ring me and I’ll drive straight down to get you, OK? It’s only an hour and a bit from London to Oxford.’
‘It won’t go wrong,’ Bella said. ‘I’m just playing a part. Even if I wasn’t officially off men, Hugh Moncrieff is the most unsuitable man in the world for me. He’s my boss, and dating him would make everything way too complicated.’
‘So why,’ Grace asked, ‘are my big sister antennae suddenly twitching like mad?’
‘Force of habit,’ Bella said with a smile. ‘But nothing’s going to go wrong.’
The following weekend, Bella’s confidence in that statement had evaporated.
Had
