Playing the Playboy's Sweetheart. Carol Marinelli
headed outside.
‘I want to ask you something. You know what I said about us still being single—do you want to give us a try?’
Emily was taken aback by his directness.
‘No.’
‘Can I ask why?’
‘I don’t need to give a reason.’ She went to head back but Hugh caught her arm.
‘I’ve still got nine minutes of your time left.’
‘Use them wisely, then,’ Emily said.
‘Okay.’ Hugh took a breath. ‘Second question. Would you consider pretending to go out with me?’
‘Pretend?’
‘I want the consultancy. Alex likes you …’
‘That’s the most ridiculous idea I’ve ever heard. He’d soon find out you were lying.’
‘Not if we’re clever about it.’
‘No.’
‘Give me one good reason why not,’ Hugh said.
She looked at Hugh, his hair flopping over his eyes, his green eyes smiling, and he was just so cocky and assured, so utterly at ease with himself that Emily could tell he was a touch taken back that she hadn’t jumped at the chance to be his fake girlfriend.
‘You know what Alex is like,’ Hugh persisted. ‘He hasn’t come right out and said it but the writing’s on the wall—he wants to know that my party days are over before he’ll give me the consultancy.’
‘But they’re not over,’ Emily pointed out.
‘They could be for the next couple of months.’
‘I’m not handing over two months of my life to be your fake girlfriend—’
‘No,’ Hugh interrupted. ‘I’m not asking for two months, I’m asking for a couple of Saturday nights and the occasional wedding. I could come down to Cornwall at the weekend and kick things off with a few photos. You’re not seeing anyone and surely …’ He hesitated.
‘Go on.’
‘It will be exciting.’
‘Really!’ Emily was having trouble keeping an incredulous smile from her lips. ‘Tell me how.’
‘Well …’ Hugh actually had the decency to look a touch uncomfortable. ‘You said that your holiday was going to be a bit boring …’
‘No, I didn’t,’ Emily corrected him. ‘I said my holiday was going to be very quiet, which, somewhere between here …’ she tapped her lips ‘… and there …’ she tapped his forehead ‘… you translated as boring. A week in a cottage, doing nothing, isn’t boring, Hugh.’
‘It certainly wouldn’t be if I came along.’ Hugh grinned.
‘Would I have to sleep with you?’ Emily asked. ‘In this little charade of yours, would sex be on the books?’
‘If you want to,’ Hugh said, mildly surprised that Emily had so readily brought it up. ‘If you’re saddled with being my girlfriend, there would have to be perks …’
‘Your ego knows no bounds.’
‘Think about it,’ Hugh said.
‘I have,’ Emily said, and started to walk back inside, ‘and the answer’s no.’
‘Come on, Emily …’
‘Was that the reason for the kisses and the “Sorry I couldn’t get here earlier” and following me about?’
‘Yep.’
‘I tell you one thing,’ Emily said, ‘if we were going out then we wouldn’t be for long if you followed me about like that.’
‘I know.’ Hugh laughed. ‘I was just trying to get Alex used to the possibility that we were on with each other … I was actually starting to annoy myself.’
Had he left it at that, all would have been okay.
If a glass of champagne hadn’t been thrust into her hand by Louise then possibly things wouldn’t have unravelled but, unknown to anyone, she was battling tears.
His fake girlfriend.
Bloody cheek, Emily thought.
She wanted to be his real one.
So why hadn’t she simply said yes when he’d asked to give them a try? Or had that been just a ruse for Alex’s benefit too?
Damn you, Hugh!
Emily knew she was being contrary, she knew that over the years Hugh must at times have felt like some baffled semaphore signaller as she’d flirted and waved red flags while her mouth had done its best to refute what her body said.
After the break-up with Marcus it had been relatively easy to move on, but getting over Hugh … Emily tried to imagine working alongside him when she had been relegated to being his ex and—fake girlfriend or real one—she knew that one day the inevitable would happen.
But if she wasn’t working there …
Stop it, Emily told herself, determined not to go there. It was a relief when people started to leave and Emily could go and retrieve her bag. Hugh’s strange offer had left her all unsettled and quite simply she wanted home.
Only Hugh had other ideas.
As she stepped out onto the street she heard him call her name.
‘Emily …’ Hugh caught her arm. ‘Have you thought about it?’
‘Sorry?’
‘You know …’ Hugh said, moving her into the shadows, ‘what we were talking about before.’
‘I’ve already given you my answer.’
‘Oh, come on, Emily, it would be fun.’
‘How?’
Emily stood there. A taxi was approaching and her friends were calling for her to join them and there was Alex and his wife Jennifer leaving.
She knew that because Hugh chose his moment and started kissing her neck.
‘Foreshadowing,’ Hugh said, in between kisses.
‘Or just adding to your reputation,’ Emily said, trying to ignore the sensations his lips were delivering, trying not to be moved by the feel of Hugh’s hands on her waist.
Little butterfly kisses were being delivered to her cheeks and her lips were starting to thrum hungrily in anticipation as, three years on, the master picked up the lead and offered a decadent walk. And just as she had when last they’d kissed, Emily had to come up with a rapid reason why it wouldn’t work.
Before lips met she had to come up with a reason or she’d be dragging him by the hair to the taxi and up the stairs to her bed.
Or would she let him drag her.
Oh, my!
She was again starting to consider the possibilities, just tossing all warnings aside and going along with his ridiculous plan. It was the feeling of suddenly wavering that had Emily pull back.
‘I can’t do it.’
‘I’m waiting for the reason.’
‘I can’t do it because …’ Come on, think, Emily, she told herself, come up with one very good reason why it would be an impossible idea. And then her champagne- and Hugh-befuddled brain found a solution. ‘Because I don’t like you,’ Emily said. Hugh just grinned.
‘No, I mean it, I don’t really enjoy your company so …’ Shut up, Emily, her mind said, but