on Hugh’s brother and his fiancée.
Maybe she ought to pack some suitable clothes as well, in case she needed to change at the last minute. Or borrow Grace’s car so she could make a quick getaway if she needed to, rather than letting Hugh drive her down to Oxfordshire. Or maybe she should just make sure her mobile phone was fully charged and she’d got the number of a reliable local taxi firm.
Plus she and Hugh hadn’t set any real ground rules. What did playing his unsuitable girlfriend actually mean? Holding hands, draping herself over him—or even kissing him?
The idea of kissing Hugh sent her into a flat spin.
He was her boss. She shouldn’t even flirt with him, let alone entertain ideas about kissing him. Even if he was the most attractive man she’d met in years. Kissing was totally off the agenda.
So why, why, why couldn’t she get the idea out of her head?
Her stomach was in knots by the time her doorbell rang, just after lunch.
When she answered the door, Hugh was standing there, wearing one of his business suits. He looked utterly gorgeous—and Bella felt completely out of place in her outrageous get-up. Particularly when his eyes widened in apparent shock as he took in what she was wearing: a tight leopard-skin mini-dress with a wide shiny belt cinched round her waist and spindly high heels, a chunky bead necklace, and she’d styled her hair so her normally sleek bob was in wild curls.
‘This is a bit too much, isn’t it?’ she asked, indicating her outfit.
‘It’s, um, interesting,’ he said. ‘Very eighties. Especially the hair.’
In other words, he hated it. She’d gone way over the top. There was cutesy retro, and there was a total mess. She’d clearly crossed the admittedly narrow line between the two. She took a deep breath. ‘Sorry. Give me ten minutes and I’ll change.’
He caught her hand. ‘No, Bella, you’re perfect as you are.’
A shiver ran through her at the feel of his skin against hers. She had to remind herself sharply that she was doing this as a favour to him—acting the part of his unsuitable girlfriend—and that was all. Any attraction she felt towards him was totally inappropriate and needed to be squashed. Like yesterday.
‘Are you sure this isn’t too much?’ she asked, doubt still crawling through her. ‘Are you quite, quite sure it wouldn’t be better to switch to Plan B?’
‘Which is?’
‘Go to the party on your own and tell your family how much you love Insurgo, that you’re perfectly happy being single and that you don’t need a romantic partner to feel that your life’s complete.’
‘I could, but they wouldn’t listen, so it has to be Plan A,’ he said softly. ‘And I want you to know how much I appreciate this, Bella. I don’t know anyone else who could’ve carried this off.’
‘Really?’
‘Really. I’m not flannelling you.’
She could hear the sincerity in his voice. He really thought that she could do this. And to have someone believing her on a personal level, someone other than her family... That made her feel better about herself than she had in a long time.
‘I’m truly grateful,’ he said. ‘Now, where’s your luggage?’
She picked up her large, bright pink suitcase and faked a confidence she didn’t quite feel. ‘OK. I’m ready. Let’s go.’
His car was gorgeous—sleek and low-slung, with leather seats that were amazingly comfortable—and she wasn’t surprised to discover that he had a really good sound system, too. She was happy enough to listen to music until they were out of London and on the motorway, and then she turned to him.
‘Can I ask you some questions?’
‘Sure you can ask,’ he said, sounding as if he reserved the right not to answer.
‘We’ll start with your family,’ she said. ‘Even an unsuitable airhead girlfriend would know who she was going to visit. I know you’re the youngest of four boys, and we’re going to your brother Nigel’s engagement party somewhere in Oxfordshire. Everyone else in your family is a stockbroker. And that’s all I know. Do you not think that I might need to know everyone’s names, at the very least?’
‘I guess,’ he said. His voice was totally expressionless, so she had no idea what was going through his head. ‘OK. My parents are Oliver and Elizabeth. Pa’s recently retired and spends half of his day on the golf course. Ma’s in the WI and does charity work. My brothers— Julian’s the oldest, married to Poppy, and they have a baby girl, Sophia. Alistair’s the next and he’s married to Harriet. Nigel’s about to get engaged to Victoria, and they’re getting married at Christmas. I’m the youngest, and I’m taking my new girlfriend Bella Faraday to meet the folks. Anything else?’
‘Yes. Ground rules. What does playing your girlfriend actually mean?’ she asked. ‘Holding your hand? Draping myself artfully over you?’
He blew out a breath. ‘I hadn’t thought that far ahead, to be honest. I suppose they’d expect us to hold hands. And for me to dance with you at the cocktail party. Which is a point. Can you dance?’
She couldn’t help smiling because he’d set up her answer so beautifully. And, with any luck, it would make him laugh and relax a bit, too. ‘Would that be with or without a pole, Mr Moncrieff?’
As she’d hoped, he laughed. ‘Without.’
‘I don’t really tend to go clubbing,’ she said. ‘But I go to a dance aerobics class, so I can move in time to music.’
‘That’s good enough for me.’
But he hadn’t answered her question fully. ‘Anything else?’ she asked.
He frowned. ‘Such as?’
‘Normally, people who are dating tend to, um, kiss each other,’ she said. ‘Especially when dancing and parties are involved.’
‘Ah. Yes. Kissing.’
The car suddenly felt way too small. And was it her imagination, or had the temperature just shot up by ten degrees?
‘Chaste kissing would be acceptable,’ he said.
Right at that moment, she didn’t feel very chaste. And she wished she hadn’t brought up the subject, because she could just imagine what it would be like to kiss Hugh Moncrieff. To cup his face in her hands and brush her lips against his, teasing at first, and then letting him deepen the kiss. Matching him touch for touch, bite for bite, until they were both dizzy with desire and he carried her off to his bed...
‘Bella?’
‘What?’ She’d been so lost in her fantasy that she hadn’t heard him say anything to her. She felt colour flood into her cheeks.
‘I said, are you OK with that?’
No. It was way too risky.
But she’d
