Passionate Playboys: The Demetrios Bridal Bargain / The Magnate's Indecent Proposal / Hot Nights with a Playboy

‘You’ve got Nick.’

‘I wish you had a Nick.’

‘You and me both. But the Nicks of the world are pretty rare.’

‘Rose says you’re rare.’

‘I’m unique … how is she? Tell her I’ll beat the skunk up for her if she—’

Rose, who had been listening with half an ear to the conversation between husband and wife, suddenly cut in. ‘I’m not.’

‘Rosie,’ Rebecca said, sounding worried. ‘You sound really odd. You’re not what?’

‘I’m not coming back to London.’ She didn’t love Steven. The Steven she had loved had never actually existed outside her fertile imagination, but she could tell Rebecca this until she was blue in the face and it wouldn’t do any good. And sympathy and understanding were the last things she needed right now. They would only remind her of what a prize idiot she had been.

What did she need? That was the question.

‘So you’re staying there?’

‘Can’t. I got the sack.’ Rose barely registered her sister’s shocked gasp. She was considering her options—they were rather limited. She’d sublet her flat. She wanted to avoid her sister flying back from the States, her parents’ searching questions, and she was reluctant to dip into her meagre savings.

Was this the moment to throw her customary caution to the wind? Well, being cautious and doing the right thing hadn’t got her very far except in the geographical sense.

‘You got the sack?’ Rebecca could not have sounded more incredulous, but Rose barely registered it. Her thoughts were racing.

There was a way out. Mathieu had offered it her, but it was just too crazy. She couldn’t do that, could she? When you’d stopped waiting for Mr Right because the penny had finally dropped that he didn’t exist—wasn’t that the totally right time to take a leap into the unknown, and if that leap brought you into intimate contact with a man who made bits of you quiver you didn’t know you had wasn’t that a plus? So far avoiding temptation and being a good girl had made her a pathetic laughing stock.

She sucked in a decisive breath. ‘I’m going for it.’

‘You sound strange, Rose. Rose is going for it. No, Nick, I’ve no idea what she’s going for, and will you stop interrupting? Rose, what are you—?’

‘Why not?’ Rose’s unexpected whoop had her twin lifting the phone with a wince from her ear. ‘You’re right, Becky, I’m a coward. But no more.’

‘I didn’t say that,’ her twin protested.

‘Yes, you did, and you’re right. I hate being nice. Nice people just get kicked in the teeth and laughed at. You know, I didn’t sleep with the wrong man because I’m too nice. Is that good or bad? I can’t decide,’ she mused. ‘When you think about it you might as well sleep with someone you don’t give a damn about because they can’t hurt you and I might actually find out what I’ve been missing.’

‘Oh, God,’ Rebecca groaned down the other end of the phone. ‘Are you thinking of anyone particular you don’t give a damn about?’ she asked warily. ‘Look, Rosie, now might not be the best time to make big decisions … you’re feeling hurt and—’

‘I’m not hurt.’

‘Of course you’re not hurt.’

Rose brought her teeth together in a frustrated grimace. Her twin had obviously decided that she was being plucky and brave trying to hide her broken heart. It was deeply frustrating that nothing she could say was likely to convince Rebecca otherwise.

‘There is no need to humour me. I was already completely over Steven.’ Rebecca had had her ‘summer to forget’ before she had found Nick. Maybe she was due a winter to forget—or remember, depending on how things turned out …?

‘That’s great.’

‘It’s true—I’m not heartbroken, I’m just mad and I feel like a total idiot.’

‘Look, you don’t have to put on a brave face for me. I’ve been there. These things take time.’

‘Not for me. I’ve met someone else.’ The moment the words were out of her mouth Rose regretted introducing a face-saving lover. The chances were Rebecca wouldn’t believe her anyway.

‘You haven’t mentioned him before …?’

‘It’s early days and I didn’t want to tempt fate,’ Rose improvised brightly, pretending not to hear the sceptical note in her sister’s voice.

‘So what’s he like?’

‘Like …?’

‘Yes—tall, short, dark, fair? Married or single?’

‘I do not make a habit of falling for married men and he’s tall.’ She closed her eyes and leaned back into her seat. A faint smile curved her lips as the image in her head solidified. ‘Tall and very dark, with grey eyes that have a dark ring around the iris and really long dark lashes. His mouth … well, he’s got a really great smile … when he does … smile, that is …’

‘Wow, does he have a brother?’

The laughing query jolted Rose from her contemplative silence.

‘Look, Rebecca, I have to do something and, don’t worry, it’s not crazy … well, it is, but good crazy. I think. I’ll get back to you.’ She slid the phone back in her bag and leaned forward to speak to the driver, who had been unashamedly eavesdropping. ‘Could you turn around and take me back to the estate, please?’

CHAPTER NINE

‘SO DO you want me to wait?’

Rose took the notes from her wallet and handed them over. ‘No, thanks.’ She was burning her bridges—no escape route to allow her to chicken out.

She stood, her case at her feet, and watched as the taxi vanished. When it was gone she stayed where she was, staring after it.

‘Have you any idea what you’re doing, Rose?’

Good question.

She spun around. Her heart gave a lurch as she looked at Mathieu. He represented all the reckless excitement she’d been avoiding all her life.

And if you wanted to learn about sex he would probably be a pretty good guide. And there would be no possibility of emotional complications because it didn’t seem a big leap to assume he wasn’t into deep and meaningful relationships.

‘I came back.’

‘So I see. Is there a problem?’

‘Not really.’ Only if you count the fact I’ve gone insane as a problem, she thought as his tactile voice sent an illicit shiver down her spine. That alone should have warned her she was making a mistake. ‘I came back.’

‘We covered that. I’m surprised.’

‘Good surprised or bad surprised?’