Take a Chance on Me: Blind-Date Marriage / Saying Yes to the Millionaire

‘Fine by me.’ Her eye was immediately drawn to the tall windows that almost filled one side of the room. ‘Oh, wow! You’ve got a balcony! I’ve always wanted a balcony.’

‘There’s not much to see. In a densely populated area like this, it’s just gardens and back windows.’

‘Can I take a look?’

‘Knock yourself out.’

She put down her coffee cup, unfastened the brass catch, and stepped through the French windows onto a narrow wrought-iron balcony. She could have spent an hour out there, listening to the shuffle of the wind in the trees and nosing into the uncurtained windows.

Jake’s presence was noticeable more from the heat of his body behind hers than the sound of his footsteps. He draped his arms around her shoulders like a knotted pullover and she sank back into him.

‘If I lived in this flat, I’d spend all my time out here.’

‘Would you? I like the trees, but it’s a bit too crowded. Still, it’ll do until I’ve saved up for my house in the country.’

‘Don’t you think it looks magical? Especially now people are starting to put their Christmas lights up.’

Jake grunted. ‘It’s only the second week of December! Far too early for all that stuff.’

‘So that’s why your place is twinkle-free, is it?’

‘I don’t do Christmas lights.’

Serena thought of the dog-eared tinsel and her mother’s hand-made decorations that graced the nine-foot tree in her living room. ‘Shut up, you old humbug, and give me a kiss!’

She swivelled to face him and their lips met. All she was conscious of for the next few seconds was the heady mixture of Jake’s lips on hers and the heat trapped between their torsos. Even after three weeks, his kisses had the power to reduce her nerve-endings to frazzles. If anything, there was a cumulative effect. It seemed impossible that each kiss could be sweeter than the last, but Jake was doing his best to give her solid empirical proof.

The mood shifted. What had started out as romantic and sensual was rapidly intensifying into something else entirely. Her guard was too far down. It was all she could do to lock her knees and keep herself from puddling to the floor. Jake’s hand was under her jumper, caressing her midriff and snaking a tantalising journey up her body.

A tiny voice screeched at her from the back of her head, telling her it was too soon, too intense. She’d promised herself, no matter what, that she’d use her brain rather than her hormones to set the pace. If Jake really liked her, he’d wait …

Trembling, she let the cold air rush between their lips and slid round in the circle of his arms to face outwards again. Her heart stamped an angry beat in her chest and she took a few deep, cleansing breaths.

She closed her hands over the top of his, if only to stop the mesmerising rhythm of his fingers as he stroked her bare flesh. The slice of December wind against her face was a welcome jolt. Nearly as good as a cold shower.

However, Jake didn’t seem to notice it. He nuzzled into the side of her neck and placed tiny kisses along her jaw. She had to do something to break the spell, so she straightened a little and ordered herself to pay attention to the view.

‘Isn’t it fascinating—looking into all the windows, watching other people go about their lives?’

Jake clasped her even closer, his breath raising the sensitive hairs inside her ears.

‘Riveting.’

She struggled to ignore the exquisite tickle of his lips on her earlobe. She was pretty sure if anyone took an X-ray of her insides right now, they’d be staring at a quivering mass of strawberry jelly.

She picked a window and focused intently on a mother pacing a repetitive circuit with a tiny baby propped on her shoulder. Although the pane muffled any sound, she could tell by the infant’s red scrumpled face that it was not in a happy place. Every few seconds they disappeared as the woman changed direction, but she always reappeared in the same place.

The hypnotic quality of her movements was certainly working on Serena, who suddenly noticed Jake’s hands had worked free of hers. The combination of lips and fingertips was fatal. Her eyes slid closed and her lips parted. A tiny intake of breath that sounded very much like an ah brought her to her senses slightly.

Focus, girl. Focus.

She wrenched her eyelids open and searched for another window. Two floors down, she found one. A couple—married, probably—pottered around their kitchen. He stirred a pot; she opened a bottle of wine. They were so unhurried, hardly making eye contact, but they moved around each other in a well-choreographed sequence they must have practised a thousand times, opening drawers and cupboards, dishing up their meal. She couldn’t tear her eyes away. Even the movement of Jake’s lips against her skin was almost forgotten as she watched them circling round each other in their seemingly mundane dance.

In the pit of her stomach, she ached for just a little of what they had.

‘It’s freezing out here, Jake. Let’s go back inside.’

He made no fuss, only smiled at her and opened the door for her to step through. Once inside, he fastened the catch and closed the curtains, so not a chink of the outside world remained visible.

But in her imagination she could still see the couple, sitting at a little square table, swapping stories from their day at work. She gave him an easy smile, sweet with promise. He touched her hand as she reached for her glass …

Serena tried to erase the image by taking an active interest in her surroundings. Jake’s furniture was expensive. Classic designs with a modern twist. She could have opened the pages of any one of the aspirational interior design magazines at the supermarket and seen something identical. Almost.

As she looked more closely, she noticed elements that jarred. There were too many books for a truly minimalist look—and not just work-related tomes. Novels, poetry and biographies jostled for position on the cluttered shelves. Colourful modern art canvases hung on the walls. She would have expected abstract designs in beige and brown, not Kandinsky and Chagall. In the corner, a glossy acoustic guitar with a ratty strap was propped up against a small table.

‘Do you play?’ she asked, nodding towards it.

‘I used to.’

‘Not any more?’

‘Well … I pick it up now and again. I’m very rusty. I just don’t have the time.’

‘Play me something.’

Jake shifted in his seat. Ridges appeared on his forehead. ‘You don’t want to hear me twanging away after listening to your old man. I wouldn’t compare favourably.’

‘Pass it here, then.’

‘Yes, Miss.’

She sat the guitar on her lap and, one at a time, pressed the fingers of her left hand onto the strings. It took all her concentration to strum the few bars of the only song she knew. It was about as comfortable and familiar as bungee jumping. She stopped mid-verse and looked at Jake. His eyebrows were hitched halfway up to his hairline.

‘That has to be the worst rendition of “Scarborough Fair” I’ve ever heard.’

She bowed slightly in acknowledgement. ‘The musical gene obviously took one look at me and decided to leap-frog a generation.’

‘Not a carbon-copy of your father, then?’

‘I don’t think you’d find me half as attractive if I was.’

He laughed. ‘You’re right there!’

She clapped a decisive hand against the front of the guitar. ‘Anyway, my point is this: anything you produce can only be a step up from my paltry efforts.’

He thrust out a hand. ‘I don’t think I can resist you in anything.’

She passed him the guitar and settled back into the sofa as he reprised the song she’d just butchered.

‘You’re good,’ she said, when he had finished a verse and a chorus.

‘I’ll take that as a compliment, from a woman who knows what good guitar sounds like even if she can’t reproduce it.’

‘Did you ever think of taking it further?’

‘A career, you mean?’

‘I suppose.’

‘Not really. I needed to be sure I could earn a living so I could get Mum and Mel off the estate. Accountancy won out over music in that respect, no question.’

‘Do you ever wish you’d had another choice?’

He shook his head. ‘My life is exactly what I planned it would be. I wouldn’t change a thing.’

His answer made her heart sink a little. She knew she wanted safe and predictable in her future husband, but a wayward part of her still hankered after the creativity and verve of an artistic temperament.

Yes, and look where that has got you in the past! Stomped on, taken for granted and broken-hearted. Don’t even go there!

While she had been arguing with herself, Jake had started strumming the guitar again. He was staring into space, not even watching his hands, yet they seemed to remember the chords of the haunting tune he played all on their own. She closed her eyes and let the gentle thrumming wash over her, until it petered out a few minutes later.

‘That was beautiful. What was it?’

‘Just something I wrote when I was younger. I’ve messed around with it for years, but I can never seem to find the right way to finish it.’ He shrugged and slipped the guitar over the edge of his chair to rest against the bookcase. ‘Guess I never will.’

‘Don’t stop. It’s very relaxing.’

He swung the guitar back onto his lap and started picking away at the strings. She sipped her coffee and watched him lose himself in the rise and fall of the melody his fingers were weaving. He looked different while he was absorbed like that. Less polished, more vulnerable. A tingling feeling flared inside her as she realised she was seeing a side to Jake he normally kept well camouflaged. An imaginative, creative side that was totally at odds with the conservative suits and accounts ledgers.

Then it hit her like a kick in the stomach. This accountant had the soul of a musician!

It was at that exact moment Serendipity felt the familiar slap of a right hook out of nowhere.

‘Jake, I’m scared! I don’t know where we are!’

‘All will be revealed shortly.’

She liked surprises as much as the next girl, but being dragged round half of London with a woolly scarf covering her eyes was too much. Jake had insisted on securing it round her head while they were in the taxi he’d hailed outside the restaurant. As if dinner at a Moroccan restaurant, sitting on cushions and feeling pampered and exotic, hadn’t been enough, Jake now had something else up his sleeve. Something she was starting to wish would stay tucked up there.

She prised her fingers from the metal railing and let him guide her down a never-ending flight of stone stairs. It took all her resolve not to grab the rail and hang on for dear life. Every other step she felt she was falling, but Jake’s warm strong hand was there, steadying her, making her feel safe.

Finally her feet reached a large, blessedly flat area. ‘Can I take this off now?’

Jake’s hand swatted her fingers away from the knot behind her head. ‘Not yet.’

The scent of his aftershave clung to the fibres of the scarf, overloading her nostrils. It was as if he was wrapped around her. Apart from the odd twinkle of what she presumed to be streetlights through the weave, she could see nothing. The gentle slap of waves against stone told her they were somewhere near the river—probably the Thames embankment.

Jake’s arm circled her waist and he propelled her forwards into the unnerving clatter of footsteps that swirled around them. Wherever they were, it was busy. After a minute or so, he came to a halt.

‘Wait there. I’ll only be a couple of steps away.’

‘No! Don’t let go!’

‘You’ll be perfectly safe. I just need to have a word with this young man over here.’

She clutched onto him with her gloved hand, but he pulled away gently.

‘Trust me. I’ll be with you in less than a minute.’

She heard him take a few steps, and his murmured voice mixed with another. She shuffled slightly in his direction and bumped into someone.

‘Sorry!’ she exclaimed, not even knowing whether she was talking to the person she’d barged into. She didn’t dare move again, so she just stood there, letting the crowds eddy past her.

His arm enclosed her again. ‘This way.’

The hard stone beneath her heels gave way to a clanging metal ramp. Where on earth were they? Soon they came to a stop. Jake steered her to face a certain direction.

‘Now, Serena, it is very important that when I say go, you take a big step forwards. Okay?’

She nodded, suddenly feeling as if she was about to walk the plank. The lapping of water was louder, almost beneath her feet.

‘Ready …?’ She clenched her elbows to her sides, palms raised in front of her to ward off the danger she couldn’t see.

‘Go!’

She clamped her already blindfolded eyes shut and took the biggest step she could—feeling it was more a leap of faith—then clung on to Jake for all she was worth.

‘We’re moving!’ she squeaked, then gripped him even tighter as she realised they weren’t just moving sideways, they were climbing upwards too!

Jake just laughed softly, and kissed her forehead.

‘Happy Birthday, Serena.’ He prised his arms from her grasp, gently freed the knot in the scarf and pushed it back over her head.

‘You can open them now. It’s perfectly safe.’

She parted her eyelashes slowly, dazzled by the twinkling lights all around her. They were inside something. Her eyes just could not make sense of what she was seeing. Images jumbled into her brain. Lights … metal … glass. Then it all fell into place …

‘We’re on the London Eye!’

‘You said you’d always wanted to go on it that day we had lunch at Maison Blanc.’

‘How sweet of you to remember!’

She fell silent and took a good look around her. They were alone inside one of the egg-shaped glass and metal pods on the giant wheel almost directly across the Thames from the Houses of Parliament. She’d never seen London look so beautiful. It hardly felt as if they were moving, but slowly they were climbing into the night sky. A whole city of Christmas lights below twinkled just for them. She pressed her nose against the glass and stared.

The unmistakable pop and hiss of a champagne cork made her turn round. He was smiling that wonderful, heart-melting smile of his, and pouring champagne into a pair of glasses that seemed to have appeared from nowhere, along with an ice-bucket.

‘How did you do all this?’

‘It took a little bit of planning, but it wasn’t impossible. I told you we had a little catching up to do to make you feel special.’

‘I think you’ve done it all in one night!’

‘What makes you think this is all there is?’

‘There’s more?’

‘You haven’t had your present yet.’

She looked past him to the ice-bucket. No brightly wrapped parcel stood beside it. She bent down and looked under the oval-shaped wooden bench in the centre of the pod. Nothing.

‘So where is it? No, don’t tell me—you’re having it helicoptered in when we get a little higher?’

He laughed and patted the breast pocket of his jacket. ‘It’s right here, but I was going to wait until we got to the top to give it to you.’

Serena swallowed. It was getting hard to think.

Her present was obviously very special. After all, he was making the act of giving it to her a monumental occasion.

And it was small enough to fit into his pocket.

It couldn’t be … could it?

No. That was a stupid idea! It was far too soon.

Jake handed her a glass of champagne and stood beside her to survey the patchwork of the London skyline. They sipped in silence as the pod climbed higher, but she couldn’t concentrate on the illuminations on Battersea Bridge, or St Paul’s Cathedral. All she could think about was what might be sparkling inside his suit pocket.

It seemed as if the wheel had gone into slow motion. It took a torturously long time for their pod to reach the apex. Just as they watched the one above theirs start to descend, Jake turned towards her and looked deep into her eyes. The entire herd of butterflies resident in her stomach stampeded and came to settle, fluttering madly, in her chest.

‘I want you to know you are the most fascinating woman I’ve ever met …’

Her mouth went dry.

‘I don’t think anyone has had the effect on me that you do. And, because of that, I want to give you something that is uniquely for you—something I’ve never given to anybody else.’

Her eyes followed his right hand as it slipped inside his jacket and reached into the pocket that covered his heart. When it reappeared, it was holding a small, velvet-covered jewellery box. Square. Ring-sized.

One hand flew to her mouth and she clutched the glass of champagne as if it were a lifeline. She was no longer aware of the motion of the giant wheel. It seemed to have stopped on her in-breath. The world paused as they floated high above a sea of sparkling diamonds.

He faced the box towards her and gently eased the lid open, to reveal the most wonderful …

CHAPTER FIVE

EARRINGS?

She looked up at him. His eyes held a question.

She checked the box again, just to make sure she was seeing straight.

No, she was right. It was definitely a pair of silver earrings sitting on the velvet cushion. Actually, they were the most exquisite design of interwoven ivy, completely unlike anything she’d ever seen before. They were really … her. They just weren’t …

She ignored the fact that her stomach had plummeted from where they were suspended mid-air to the slime-coated riverbed below, and choked out the only words that came to mind.

‘They’re … earrings.’

Jake frowned. He almost let that mask of his slip. Just for a split-second he looked really vulnerable. ‘You don’t like them?’ He shook his head slightly. ‘I was sure the designer’s work was just your taste, but—’

‘No, Jake. They’re amazing. Really.’

He searched her face.

‘Then why do you look as if you’re just about to cry?’

She set her glass down on the bench, took his head in her hands and kissed away his frown. When she thought she’d stopped shaking enough to sound convincing, she pulled away.

‘Jake. The earrings are stunning. Nobody has ever given me a present that suited me so well. In fact, they don’t just suit me, they sum me up.’ And she didn’t have to lie. They were perfect. He’d obviously had them made just for her. ‘I’m just crying because I’m so … happy.’

The first of a hundred tears was poised and ready at the corner of her eye. She hugged him hard as it escaped down her cheek and screwed her face up against his shoulder, willing the other ninety-nine to stay put.

‘Let me put them in for you.’

She moved back enough to remove the hoops she already wore, and dropped them in her coat pocket. Jake took one of the delicate earrings from the box between his fingers and aimed for the hole in her earlobe.

‘Ow!’ The spike of the earring stabbed tender flesh.

‘I’m hurting you.’

‘No. Well, a little. Maybe I’m better off on my own.’ She forced the corners of her mouth upwards. ‘Why don’t you get me a refill?’

By the time he’d returned, with a full glass of champagne, both earrings were securely fastened in place.

‘You’re sure you like them?’

She pressed a delicate kiss onto his cheek. ‘I love them.’ I love you.

‘Well … okay. Good.’

They spent the last ten minutes of the ride in silence. He seemed a little distant. She hoped desperately that he hadn’t caught her awkward stutter when she’d opened the box. It didn’t matter that the little velvet cube hadn’t contained what her over-active imagination had conjured up. They’d been seeing each other less than a month. It had been crazy to think …

She would probably laugh about it in the morning when she spoke to Cass on the phone.

The pod reached the landing and the doors whooshed open. Back into the real world. Dirt, noise, pollution. Nothing like the fairytale scene from the top of the wheel at all, really.

Jake stood in front of the black-painted door and waited for the chime of the doorbell to fade. Part of him wished she wasn’t there, that the door would stay shut.

‘Hey! Up here.’

He squinted and looked up. Serena was leaning out of a first-floor window, looking extraordinarily beautiful, with her dark hair falling forwards and a huge smile on her face. She was so pleased to see him. He felt like an utter heel.

She pointed to a narrow passageway at the side of the enormous Chelsea townhouse. ‘Come round to the back door. I’ll meet you down there.’

By the time he’d ducked under the ivy that threatened to block the path and pushed the heavy back door open, she was already in the spacious basement kitchen, filling the kettle. She heard the squeak of his soles on the tiles and left the tap running as she rushed over to give him a hug.

Her soft lips brushed his cheek. Touching her had seemed so natural only a few days ago, yet now he couldn’t find the proper place to put his hands. He eased out of her arms and sat down on a stool near a breakfast bar.

She turned the tap off and clicked the kettle on. ‘I’m very flattered you raced over here in your lunch break to see me.’

Jake shifted his weight on the stool. ‘I have some important news.’

News you’re not going to like.

‘Good news or bad news?’

He didn’t answer. She stopped getting cups out of the cupboard and took a good look at him. ‘It’s bad news, isn’t it?’

‘Good news, really,’ he said, trying to smile. ‘It just feels like bad news.’

That was the truth. He didn’t want to do this, but he had no other option. He really liked her, and had hoped they’d continue to see each other for quite a while, but he’d seen the way she’d looked at the jewellery box the other night. It had taken him completely by surprise.

He’d thought he’d been safe from all of that with her. It had been short-sighted of him to go over the top with her birthday celebrations, but he’d enjoyed watching her face light up at each revelation.

So stupid of him to think he could do all that and not give her the wrong impression! She was a woman, after all. And, just like any other woman, she wanted more than he could possibly give. He was almost cross at her for making him believe otherwise.

‘Jake, you’re starting to worry me! Is somebody ill?’

‘No. Nothing like that. It’s just … I’ve been thinking about this for a while, and I know the time is right …’

She waved him on. ‘And?’

‘I’m opening a branch of my firm in New York.’

‘But that’s wonderful!’ Pride in him radiated from her in bucketloads. He felt like something that should be scraped off on the door mat.

‘There’s a catch.’

‘Oh?’

‘I’m going to have to spend a lot of time over there in the next few months. In fact, I’m due to fly out tomorrow and I won’t be back until mid-January.’

Her cheeks paled. ‘Not even for Christmas?’

‘No. Mum and Mel might fly out for a visit, but I won’t be back.’

‘Then … when will I see you?’

‘This is what I wanted to talk to you about.’ He looked down at his bunched fists on the counter and deliberately splayed his fingers. Looking her in the eye was harder than it should have been. He’d given similar speeches before, but he’d never felt this awkward. He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. He wasn’t going to wimp out now. ‘I’m not going to have much time for anything but the new office for a while, so I think we should cool things off for a bit.’