Convenient Engagements: Fiance Wanted Fast! / The Blind-Date Proposal / A Whirlwind Engagement. Jessica Hart
in his face to deal with Phoebe. She needed someone with a bit more fire to appreciate her.
‘This is Gib,’ Phoebe introduced him awkwardly, and the two men shook hands without any noticeable enthusiasm.
‘Congratulations,’ said Gib.
There was a tiny pause. Phoebe kept her smile pinned to her face and tucked her hand in Gib’s arm. ‘Congratulate us, too, Ben. Gib and I are thinking about getting married.’
‘Really?’ Ben looked taken aback for a moment.
Gib could practically see the relief warring with surprise and a touch of chagrin in his face. No doubt Phoebe was supposed to stay broken-hearted for ever, not find someone else.
‘That’s great news,’ Ben recovered, kissing Phoebe again. ‘Congratulations, Phoebe.’ He looked warily at Gib. ‘You’re a lucky man.’
‘I know,’ said Gib discouragingly.
The moment Ben had moved on to greet other well-wishers, Phoebe rounded on Gib. ‘Did you have to be quite so unfriendly?’ she demanded. She had never seen him behave like that before. For a moment there he had looked quite grim. ‘This is Ben’s wedding day. You’re supposed to be nice to him!’
‘You can’t expect me to fawn all over the man who hurt the woman I love,’ said Gib with a slight edge.
‘I don’t think there’s any need to take your role that seriously! Ben looked as if he were afraid you were about to punch him.’
‘It might have livened him up a bit,’ Gib beckoned a waiter over and exchanged his empty glass for a full one. ‘What do you see in that guy, anyway? He’s not exactly a ball of fire, is he?’
‘Ben is a very nice man,’ said Phoebe defensively. ‘He’s kind and honest and … and reliable—unlike some people I could mention! Why on earth did you tell Penelope you would spend the night when we had already agreed you would go back to London?’
‘Because no self-respecting fiancé would leave you on your own the very night you most need support. Even if you were madly in love with me, it would be hard for you to see Ben getting married, and Penelope obviously knows that. If I’d gone back to London making some lame excuse about flying to Switzerland on Monday it really would have looked suspicious.’
Gib told himself that he was only trying to offer her support. He did think it would be easier for Phoebe if she had a friend with her tonight. He had hated the idea of getting on a train and leaving her to cope on her own. She might not want him, but he thought that she would need someone, and it might as well be him. The fact that he had leapt at the opportunity of staying had absolutely nothing to do with knowing that this might be the only chance he would have to get this close to her.
Of course not.
Phoebe eyed him with some frustration. It sounded reasonable enough, and the only argument she could really come up with was that he wasn’t doing as he was told, which would come across as a bit childish.
Feeling rattled, she sipped edgily at her champagne. How could she tell Gib that she was far more bothered by the prospect of spending the whole night with him than she had been about coming face to face with Ben? She wasn’t even sure that she was ready to admit it to herself.
‘It’ll certainly look suspicious if you leave now!’ she said crossly. ‘Then Penelope really would think we’d had a row. I suppose we’ll just have to make the best of it.’
Suppressing a sigh, she looked around her, and forced a smile as she caught the eye of an old friend of Ben’s family. ‘We’d better circulate. From now on, could you please not introduce any more variations on the story we agreed? If we get separated, say as little as possible, and when you do, stick to neutral topics. Talk about cricket or something.’
Gib snapped into a mock salute. ‘Whatever you say, boss.’
* * *
Phoebe picked up a plate and joined the queue for the buffet. Round tables had been set out where the guests could sit down or move around informally, and she looked around as casually as she could, trying to spot Gib, who had drifted from her side in far too relaxed a fashion. She didn’t trust him now.
A girl who had known her when she was going out with Ben was standing next to her, rabbiting on about some skiing holiday, but Phoebe was too busy wondering where Gib was and what he was saying to concentrate. She nodded and put in an occasional ‘yes’ or an ‘oh, really?’ while her eyes scanned the crowd with increasing nervousness.
There he was! Phoebe’s gaze did a double take and swung back to where she had spotted Gib sitting at a table with—oh, God!—her parents and Lara, and they all seemed to be getting on famously.
Typical, she fumed. There must be a hundred strangers here Gib could have picked to sit and make small talk with, but no! He had to choose the three people who were most likely to interrogate him closely and pick up on any weaknesses in their story!
Hastily grabbing a couple of vol-au-vents and a chicken leg, Phoebe muttered an excuse and, leaving Vanessa still yapping about drag lifts and chalet girls, fought her way across the room towards him to try and stop him before he embellished any more aspects of their supposed relationship. It took ages, though, as people kept hailing her, all delighted to see her again and eager to tell her how much they liked Gib.
He was so charming, they told her.
So funny.
So interesting.
‘So attractive!’ sighed more than one girl enviously. ‘You are lucky, Phoebe.’
Hadn’t she told Gib very clearly to stick to neutral topics? It didn’t sound as if he had listened to a word she had said, Phoebe thought furiously. Far from lurking quietly on the sidelines talking about the weather or the lack of hold-ups on the motorway, he had obviously been in the thick of things, circulating breezily and talking to everyone who knew her!
Smile fixed, she agreed for the umpteenth time that Gib was wonderful and struggled on through the tables to her family.
‘Ah, there you are!’ her mother waved gaily and Gib turned quickly to see Phoebe suck in her breath to squeeze in between two chairs, holding her plate high to clear the heads. She looked hot and flustered, and beneath her hat he could see that her jaw was gritted and her smile decidedly brittle.
He got to his feet and pulled out a chair for her to sit down beside him. ‘I lost you,’ he said, taking the plate from her as a precautionary measure. Now that she was close, he could see that her eyes were flashing an unmistakably irate message, and he didn’t want vol-au-vents all down his suit. ‘I was hoping you’d find me eventually.’
‘Gib’s been keeping us entertained,’ Lara told Phoebe, who was half tempted to refuse to sit next to Gib but couldn’t think of a reason that wouldn’t make her look childish.
‘So I saw,’ she said rather grimly instead as she sat down in the chair he still held.
‘He’s been telling us all about how you met,’ Lara went on. ‘You never told us it was quite that romantic, Phoebe!’
Romantic? What had he been telling them? Phoebe looked at Gib with foreboding, which only deepened when she saw his eyes dancing. She wished they wouldn’t do that. It only made her more nervous.
‘I didn’t tell them everything,’ he assured her, straight faced, and to Phoebe’s consternation her family laughed merrily, as if he had already told them more than enough.
‘Perhaps I should know what he did tell you,’ she said, holding on to her temper with difficulty.
‘He said it was a very easy mistake to make.’
‘And that it was wonderful to meet someone without any preconceptions about him.’
‘Yes, and that one of the reasons he loves you is that you just don’t care