really believes that, Luke. I don’t know her, of course, but either it’s her own fantasy she’s convinced will come true, or it’s something she’s been told.’
‘Not by me.’ Luke’s tone poured scorn on any such suggestion. ‘I’ve just endured a somewhat embarrassing attempt on her part to seduce me.’
Appalled by a violent desire to pull the French girl’s hair out then send her packing, Fleur said woodenly, ‘I see.’
He frowned. ‘I didn’t realise things had gone this far. They’re leaving tomorrow morning, with Lauren and Guy, but I’ll deal with the situation before they go.’
‘How?’
He glanced across at her. ‘First of all, I’ll spend the night in here,’ he said evenly, his tone daring her to object. ‘That will convince her grandfather, if not her, that she has no hope. He’s a man of the old school, and he’ll know that I wouldn’t flaunt a mistress in his face if I were planning to marry his granddaughter.’
Fleur’s stomach dropped in a mixture of headstrong excitement and fear as she scanned his flinty, implacable face. He didn’t say it, but he didn’t need to; she had no choice. Whatever, she’d find herself sharing a room.
She fought back a bubble of anticipation, bright and fragile and eager, and demanded, ‘And will he be able to convince her she has no hope?’
‘I imagine so. I’ve already made it more than clear to her that I play no part in her future. Before they leave tomorrow I’ll make sure her grandfather understands this, too.’
A shiver ran through Fleur at his tone—cold and utterly ruthless. Yet, in the long run, wouldn’t it be crueller not to do what was necessary to squelch Gabrielle’s forlorn fantasy?
Making a final stand, she said, ‘She told me she wouldn’t care if you still chased redheads.’
‘Did she?’ he returned, his tone frigid. ‘I find that damned insulting. When I marry I want a wife who loves me enough to be jealous.’
Surrendering, Fleur said bitterly, ‘Heaven preserve me from dominating men!’
‘And me from recalcitrant women.’ He allowed a gleam of amusement to appear in his eyes. ‘Take off your wrap and get into bed. Don’t worry, I won’t take advantage of the opportunity. I prefer my women willing.’
Oh, she was willing enough, but not—not like this, she thought confusedly. She tried one last time. ‘How will she know that you’ve spent the night here?’
His brow lifted in sardonic amusement. ‘I’m prepared to bet that within twenty minutes there’ll be a tap on the door and she’ll be there, ready to ask charmingly for something feminine she’s neglected to pack. Now, just in case she comes sooner rather than later, get into bed.’
She obeyed, wondering how on earth she’d let herself get into this pickle.
But when she hauled the covers up, she realised he was coming towards her. Fleur froze, watching him with eyes that grew wider and wider. Surely he wasn’t…No…
But he kept on coming. When he pulled back the bedclothes on the other side of the bed she bolted up and said furiously, ‘You said you wouldn’t—’
‘And I’ll keep that promise,’ he said between strong white teeth, obviously thoroughly fed up, ‘but if Gabrielle arrives I need to establish that I’ve actually been in this bed with you. It would be better, of course, if the bedclothes were in tatters across the floor and you and I were lying in naked abandon in each other’s arms, but somehow I don’t see that happening, do you?’
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