It Started With... Collection. Miranda Lee

It Started With... Collection - Miranda Lee


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Gran would never tolerate that in her home.’

      But it wasn’t her gran’s home any more, came the sudden thought.

      Surely her aunt wouldn’t put them in the same bedroom?

      Surely not?

      But she just might …

      Best not say anything, or Ryan might back out of the deal.

      It was a worry all the same.

      ‘So, what’s your address?’ he asked. ‘And when do you want me to pick you up tomorrow?’

      ‘What?’

      ‘Laura, get with the programme.’

      ‘Sorry,’ she muttered and gave him the details he requested.

      ‘What clothes should I take with me?’ he asked. ‘I’m getting the feeling that your family has money. Am I right?’

      ‘They’re well off but not seriously rich. Still, my aunt fancies herself a social hostess, so she’ll pull out all the stops for dinner tomorrow night. But you won’t need a dinner suit or anything like that.’

      ‘What kind of place is it?’

      ‘Years ago it used to be a large stud-farm for thoroughbred horses, with hundreds of acres of prime pastureland. But when there was a downturn in the horse-racing industry my grandfather sold off all the horses and went into cattle. Then when he died a few years back and my uncle took over he sold off most of the land to a property developer and invested the money, though he did keep a few cows. Nowadays, the property’s just a small farm, really.’

      ‘I’ve never been to a farm.’

      ‘You haven’t missed much.’

      ‘I take it you’re not a country girl at heart.’

      ‘You take it correctly. There’s something else I should tell you.’

      ‘Shoot.’

      ‘I have a male cousin named Shane who’s apparently a mad soccer-fan and is sure to be at the family dinner tomorrow night. He twigged that you were once a famous goalkeeper and is dying to meet you. Are you all right with that?’

      ‘Won’t bother me a bit.’

      ‘I didn’t think it would but I thought you should know all the same.’

      ‘That’s very thoughtful of you, Laura.’

      ‘You’re the one who’s being thoughtful. I’ll be forever grateful for you doing this.’

      ‘It’s my pleasure. If you must know, I’m quite looking forward to it.’

      ‘I don’t know why. I’m terrified.’

      ‘Yes, I can hear the tension in your voice. Look, don’t make me wait till tomorrow to find out what your aunt said to force you to change your mind. You have to tell me now or I won’t be able to sleep for imagining all sorts of crazy scenarios. It wasn’t just because she found out about my goalkeeping past, was it?’

      ‘No, nothing like that. It was what she said about me.’

      ‘What did she say about you?’

      Laura told him—every insulting detail of her conversation with her aunt, even the bit where she implied Ryan must have been ancient to be interested in her. She could feel her temper rising as she gave vent to her feelings of hurt and humiliation.

      ‘Do you know she had the hide to tell me to wear a dress to dinner tomorrow night?’

      ‘Shocking.’

      ‘Are you making fun of me?’

      ‘Not at all,’ he denied. ‘I think your aunt was very rude.’ He paused, somehow managing to sound completely unconvincing, and Laura remembered his comment about her appearance.

      She bristled. ‘I’ll have you know that I own several dresses. And quite a bit of make-up. I just don’t choose to wear either to work. Or at weekends in the country.’

      ‘But you will this weekend, if you’re serious about impressing your family. It’s not just me who’ll be on show, sweetheart, but us as a couple.’

      ‘You’re not going to call me that, are you?’

      ‘Call you what?’

      ‘Sweetheart,’ she bit out.

      ‘Not if you don’t like it.’

      ‘I don’t like it.’

      ‘What would you like me to call you, then?’

      ‘Laura.’

      ‘Laura it is, then. And Laura …?’

      ‘Yes?’

      ‘Try to relax a bit before tomorrow, will you? You’re way too uptight.’

      ‘Sorry. I can’t help it. I hate having to do this.’

      ‘What? Pretend that you’re in love with me?’

      Laura winced. Did he have to be so baldly honest?

      ‘I guess,’ she said.

      ‘You’ve been madly in love before, haven’t you?’

      ‘Yes,’ she confessed reluctantly. Twice. First with Brad, and then with Mario. Finding out Brad was a selfish, greedy, amoral rat had been devastating enough. But it had been the super-charming Mario who had nearly destroyed her. Because she should have known better by then. Should have seen through his lies.

      But she hadn’t.

      ‘Act with me the way you acted with him, then,’ Ryan suggested.

      ‘I could never act that way again,’ she said coldly. ‘It was pathetic.’

      ‘That bad, huh? Okay, just don’t freeze up if I put my arm around you or give you a little kiss occasionally. Strictly no tongues.’

      ‘I should hope not!’

      He laughed. ‘I can see that tomorrow might be a stretch, but what the hell? We’re doing this for your gran, right?’

      Laura blinked. She’d almost forgotten about her. Ever since that horrid phone call from her aunt she’d been thinking more about herself and her pride.

      ‘Yes,’ she said, feeling ashamed of herself. ‘Yes, of course.’ There wasn’t anything she wouldn’t do for her gran. ‘Ryan …?’

      ‘Mmm?’

      ‘You can call me sweetheart if you want to.’

      He laughed. ‘That’s more like it. Now you just need to find a dress. Red would look good on you.’

      ‘But I don’t own a red dress.’

      ‘Then go buy one! You have all tomorrow morning. And some sexy shoes as well. Have to go now, Laura, someone’s trying to ring me. I’ll see you at your place tomorrow at one o’clock sharp.’

      Laura opened her mouth to protest, but he’d already hung up.

       Dear God, what have I done?

      But he was right, she supposed. Any girlfriend of Ryan’s would dress sexily.

      Laura hadn’t dressed sexily since she’d split with Mario, which was quite a few years ago now. Frankly, she wouldn’t even know where to start to find a sexy red dress.

      But Alison would. Alison was right into fashion.

      Laura pulled a face. If she asked Alison for help that would mean telling her what she was doing this weekend—and with whom. This would also mean confessing what she’d said to her gran when she’d been in the coma.

      Alison would be hurt that she hadn’t confided


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