Bridesmaid with Attitude

This woman was dangerous, pure and simple, but he had an idea that he could use that to his advantage if he was careful. He needed someone like her—someone who wouldn’t be afraid to stand up to his mother. Unlike the women he’d most recently dated. If he was going to make the crazy plan he’d been toying with for the last few minutes work, she needed to have the gumption and the initiative to be able to win over his fastidious mother.

Judging by the way she’d stood up to him this woman clearly had those qualities in abundance, and it seemed like a gift from the gods that she’d landed here in his workshop right when he needed her. It was fate.

Either that or he was being seriously punished for something.

She finally seemed to pull herself together and put out a hand to lean back on the workbench behind her, dipping her head and giving him an amused look. ‘You’re kidding, right?’

‘Not kidding.’

‘Why would you need me to fall in love with you?’

‘I don’t, really, but in order to get my mother off my back and be allowed to run this estate as I see fit I need to be able to produce a girlfriend whom she believes is a viable option for future nuptials and the furthering of the family line.’

She gave an exaggerated shudder at his crass analysis. ‘Why do you need a fake girlfriend? Haven’t you got the pick of a harem of women you can call on for just this purpose, My Lord?’

He raised a laconic eyebrow. ‘Earls don’t tend to have harems—you’re confusing us with sheikhs.’

‘And you don’t have a real girlfriend to dangle under her nose?’ she asked.

She was not rising to his sarcasm; which impressed him. Normally women would blush and stutter when he was in an irascible mood.

He gave a terse shake of his head. ‘My life’s complicated right now. I’m trying to build up this business and pay my overheads here. I don’t need the added stress of a relationship.’

She narrowed her eyes, clearly seeing where this was going. ‘But if you did have a girlfriend your mother would leave you alone and perhaps turn a blind eye to you holding wedding receptions here?’

‘She could probably be persuaded to let a good friend of my girlfriend hold her reception here. That she could just about deal with, I’m sure. In fact she’d probably jump at the idea. It would give her a sense of power and control over you, which she could utilise in the future. You’d be indebted to her. She could use that to her advantage.’

She shook her head, her expression radiating disgust. ‘How is she able to have so much power over you?’

‘Because I’ve been disinherited and, according to my late father’s will she legally owns this place and can sell it from under me at any time if the whim takes her. It’s been her bargaining chip since my father died a few years ago. If I don’t fall in line with her grand plans she’ll take away my inheritance. I love this place. It’s been my home since the day I was born and I’m not giving it up that easily. I want to grow my business from here and also raise the funds to be able to renovate the house sympathetically.’

‘Seriously? That all sounds like something from the Dark Ages.’

He shrugged. ‘She’s been trying to manipulate me my whole life.’

‘And you’re not the type of guy to give in to manipulation,’ she stated, giving him a wry smile.

He crossed his arms. ‘I actively rebel against it.’

Her expression became serious. ‘So, let me get this straight. You need to convince your mother that you’re not the closed-off loner she thinks you are so she’ll get off your back and let you live your life of happily single earldom in your mansion with only your tools for company?’

He fought hard against the smile that played at the corners of his mouth. ‘Interesting choice of words, but in essence you’re right on the money. So I need a girlfriend who will satisfy my mother but who won’t expect anything to come from this. We’ll pretend to be madly in love with each other while she’s here visiting—which I’m hoping will only be for the next week or two—then, when she’s safely under the illusion that I’m well on the way to marital bliss and has agreed to give me full control over how the place is run, we’ll be able to call it quits. It’ll be a purely business relationship.’

She widened her eyes. ‘Wow. Cold. I’m guessing lines like that haven’t had the desired effect on the women you’ve dated in the past?’

‘Not exactly, no. For some reason the women I’ve been involved with recently seem to want hearts and flowers from me, and as I’m sure you’ve probably guessed by now, I’m not that kind of guy.’

She smiled. ‘I have. Because I’m not that kind of guy either.’

He snorted. ‘Sounds like we’re meant for each other.’

She looked away from him, crossing her arms and frowning as if she was thinking things over.

‘Surely this plan’s only going to work in the short term? Won’t she quickly move on to nagging you to set a wedding date?’ she asked, fixing him with her mesmerising golden gaze again.

‘Hopefully she’ll be so busy trying to bag husband number three by then she’ll leave me alone a while longer. The rest I’ll have to play by ear in the future. I just need enough time right now to get my business off the ground and start making money. Then I’ll be in a stronger negotiating position.’

The look she gave him was one of respectful awe. ‘Okay, look, give me a few minutes to think over your madcap plan and I’ll get right back to you.’

He raised an eyebrow. The mere fact that she hadn’t already stormed away in disgust was encouraging. ‘Sure. Take your time.’

‘I’ll be back.’

‘I don’t doubt it,’ he said to her retreating figure.

Sighing, he rubbed his hand over his forehead, trying to relieve the achy tension there. The whole ‘madcap plan’, as she’d called it, was a long shot, but anything was worth a punt at this point.

After giving up a well-paid but mercenary job working for a blue-chip engineering firm in London, he needed to be left to his own devices here in order to build up his own fledgling business until it began to turn a decent profit.

The weddings had been a great source of revenue, but he wouldn’t be able to go back to doing them until his mother was satisfied he was on his way to settling down.

What he’d neglected to mention was that the real reason his mother was keeping such a tight grip on his inheritance was because she was afraid he was going to slip back into the dark underbelly of the life he’d wallowed in a few years ago and fritter it all away on drink and fast women. He’d been a major source of embarrassment to her during those years, and she was determined not to allow him to put her through that again. Not that he intended to. Those crazy, hedonistic, sex-and-drugs-filled days were well and truly behind him now.

Turning back to the bandsaw, he ran another sheet of metal through it, finding a calming solace in the screech of the hard materials as they tore against each other.

Most unnervingly, the woman he’d just propositioned reminded him a little too keenly of the women he’d used to play with during that dark time, and he was aware he’d need to keep a firm grip on his impulses if he was going to stay on the straight and narrow with her around.

She had something about her that intrigued him. An iron will not dissimilar to his own.

Flicking off the machine, he put the two pieces of metal onto the workbench and started marking out where he needed to drill holes into them.

If she came back and said no, the only other option was actually to get married, so his mother would reinstate his inheritance—both money and estate—but he didn’t want to do that for a number of reasons, the biggest of which was the fact that he’d never met anyone he thought he’d be capable of putting up with on a day-to-day basis. He liked his space, and he had a horrible feeling a wife would want to mess with his carefully constructed life plans.

It would be a cold day in hell, the day he bent to someone else’s will again.

Emily paced around the well-manicured grounds of the manor house, her brain ticking over like a revved-up engine.

His idea wasn’t totally insane. In fact she was quite excited by the thought of it—and not just because it meant spending more time with this inscrutable, scorching-hot man.

It wouldn’t do her career any harm, being seen to be involved with an earl. Recently it seemed as though the press were growing bored with reporting on her whirlwind affairs with playboys and party animals—the type of men she associated with because they were easy company and didn’t make any emotional demands on her—and she knew in her line of work it was imperative to keep her profile up in the press.

Recently the producers of her show had started to make worrying noises about her no longer fitting the tone of the show, and she’d heard through the production grapevine that they were considering offering her role to Daisy Dunlop—a recently retired athletics runner with a steady home life—once the show moved to the mainstream channel it was touted to be promoted to soon.

There was no way she was letting someone else get their hands on her baby. She’d worked long and hard to get where she was. The show was her and she was the show, and she could fit any box they needed her to in order to keep on hosting it.

It was just a case of proving to the producers that that was the case.

So she needed to clean up her act.

Perhaps serendipitously, Theo could be the answer to her problems. The press would jump on a story about her getting romantically involved with someone with his appeal and social standing, which could be the profile-boosting stunt she desperately needed if she was going to keep her career on the up-and-up.

Logistically it would work fine too. She had a few weeks off while they took a break in filming the show, so she had the time to hang out here with Theo. Despite his grumpy demeanour, she liked him—probably because he wasn’t a push-over—and it wouldn’t exactly be a hardship to hang out at his estate for a week, even if it was under the watchful gaze of his odious-sounding mother.

But most of all if faking her feelings for the Earl meant that Lu could have her dream wedding here then it would all be worth it.

Besides, it could be fun—and she was a big fan of fun.

Striding back into the workshop, she watched Theo for a moment or two, enjoying the spectacle of his lithe to-ing and fro-ing.

She cleared her throat to get his attention and he turned round to face her with a questioning expression.

‘If we’re going to do this thing we really ought to know each other’s names.’ Stepping forward, she put out a hand. ‘Hi, I’m Emily Applegate.’

He took her hand, enveloping it in his own work-roughened one, and squeezed hard, coating her hand with grease so their fingers slipped against each other.

‘Theo Berkeley.’

‘Okay, Theo, if you promise to pull out all the stops and let Lula hold her wedding here—including the use of your family chapel for the ceremony if she wants it—we’ve got a deal.’

He gave her a discerning look. ‘I’d have to square that with the vicar.’

‘Then square it.’

He snorted in incredulity. ‘She must be a very good friend.’

‘She is.’

She’d swear that she’d glimpsed the glimmer of a smile in his eyes. So there was some life in there. He might come across as cold and as hazardous as liquid nitrogen, but she could sense there was a lot going on under that tough surface. She’d bet her life on it.

The idea of breaking through the frigidity to uncover it made her whole body tingle with excitement.

‘Okay, Theo, let’s do it. Let’s get romantic.’

CHAPTER TWO

THEO FELT THE tension he’d been holding on to begin to dissolve as she said the words he’d been hoping to hear.

Still, there was one thing that needed to be established before they embarked on this little adventure together.

‘Before we begin I want to make sure we’ve got this clear, Emily—I help you and you help me, then when it’s over we walk away.’

‘That works for me.’

‘Are you sure? Because I’m not looking for a relationship right now.’

She let out a long breath through her nose, an expression of irritation taking over her face. ‘Neither am I. Like I said, I don’t do hearts and flowers either. It’s not my style.’

The veracity of her statement came through loud and clear in the tone of her voice.

He nodded, feeling reassured that she meant what she said.

‘Just out of interest, why is it up to you to sort out your friend’s wedding venue? Shouldn’t it be her husband-to-be turning up here, bargaining with me?’

She leant one hip against the wall and gave him a look from under her lashes. ‘We thought you’d be more likely to want to sleep with me.’

He rolled his eyes at the trite joke.

‘Seriously, though,’ she said, grinning at his reaction, ‘Tristan’s away at the moment, and Lula has enough on her plate, so as chief bridesmaid I offered to come instead. Because she’s the person I love most in the world. She’s been my rock, and I want to do this for her because I know how devastated she’d be if her wedding plans went awry. She’s had a pretty tough life and she deserves to be happy.’

The determination in Emily’s face clinched it for him and the last bit of tension drained away.

‘Okay, then we’d better get on with it,’ he said, laying down the hacksaw he’d been clutching in his hand. ‘We only have a short time to get to know a bit about each other. My mother’s visiting friends today, but she’ll be staying here later and it’s probably better not to catch her on the hop. She doesn’t like to be put on the back foot. I’ll tell her about you first, and wait for her to insist on meeting you, then I’ll suggest I invite you over tomorrow for Sunday lunch. We’ll start small.’

‘So we’re not going to pretend I live with you here?’

‘No. That would seem suspicious. She’d expect to have heard about you already if you’d moved in with me.’

‘Still, you’d better show me around in case I need the loo or something when she’s here and have no idea where to find it. That might look a little suspicious too.’

‘Good idea.’

Walking over to a small sink in the corner of the workshop, he washed the grease off his hands before turning back and gesturing for her to step through the door. ‘After you.’

They strolled side by side from the workshop to the front entrance of the house, with Emily craning her neck to look up at the impressive E-shaped building, with its gold-coloured stone, mullion windows and carved geometric frontage.

She let out a low, complimentary whistle. ‘It’s quite a pad you’ve got here, Theo.’

He experienced a surge of pride as he took the opportunity to experience the place through her eyes. After living here for the last couple of years, ever since his mother had moved out to go and live in Spain with her new husband, it was easy to look past the magnificence of the place, but he knew how special it was. He felt a deep and meaningful connection to the place, right down to his bones.

While he rummaged in his pockets for the keys she bent down and pretended to pet the stone lions that guarded the door. ‘Hello again, my fine feline friends. Don’t worry—I come here with the full benediction of your owner this time,’ she purred at them.

He had a disquieting moment when he wondered whether he was crazy to put his faith in such an unknown quantity, and had to remind himself that he didn’t exactly have a better option.

Opening the door, he ushered her inside and introduced her to the grand hallway, with its stone-flagged floor, dark wood panelling and arched stone doorways leading off to the downstairs rooms.

‘This is where the tour begins.’

‘Should I take my shoes off?’ she asked, he suspected only half jokingly.

‘No need. Let me show you the rooms down here first.’

He led her through to the drawing-room, then the morning room, pointing out the odd period feature, then the library—his favourite place after the workshop, which smelled like history—then finally the comfortable converted kitchen-diner.

‘Very nice, Theo. I can see why Lula’s so keen to have her reception here. All this dastardly scheming is definitely going to be worth it,’ Emily said as she gazed around at the oak cupboards and bifolding doors leading out to a large tiled terrace which looked over the extensive gardens.

‘Speaking of which—we ought to get on with it,’ he said, aware that they had a lot to cover in a short amount of time.

She nodded. ‘Yeah, if we’re going to make this work we need to keep our stories simple.’

‘Agreed.’

He gestured for her to follow him back out into the hallway.

‘How about we met in London?’ she said, walking to the bottom of the staircase and propping her elbow on the highly polished oak banister. ‘Through a friend from university, perhaps?’

‘That would work. I used to have a job in the City, so she’d buy that.’

‘And we’ve been seeing each other on and off for a year?’

‘Yes. The on and off thing is good. It adds credence to me not mentioning you already. We could have been “off” when I’ve seen or spoken to her in the past.’

‘Okay. Good.’

He nodded towards the sweeping staircase. ‘Come on upstairs with me while I change, and then I’ll show you the bedrooms and bathrooms up there.’

‘Lead on,’ she said, and he felt her following close behind him as he mounted the stairs.

He stopped at the first door off the landing. ‘This is me. I’ll only be a minute.’

‘Okay,’ she said, surprising him by following him inside.

He turned and gave her a questioning frown.

‘I should probably know what your room looks like,’ she said with a pseudo-innocent smile. ‘Just in case.’

He raised his eyebrows but decided not to kick her out.

She had a point.

Emily stopped in the middle of the enormous woodpanelled bedroom and watched Theo disappear through a door on the far side, which she guessed must lead to his en-suite bathroom and dressing room.

‘Take a look around if you want. I removed all the dead bodies yesterday, so I don’t have anything to hide.’

His voice sounded muffled, as if he had his head in a wardrobe. Then she heard the sound of the shower being turned on.

She smiled and did as he suggested, walking around the room and peeking into a couple of his drawers, finding only some paperbacks and a handful of pens in them.

His bed was enormous and comfortable-looking, and made up with what looked like Egyptian cotton sheets and a large duck down duvet. She walked over and picked up one of his pillows, holding it to her nose and breathing in the manly scent of him. It had some kind of exotic undertone, like lemongrass or lime—something fresh and clean like that.

Something delicious.

Her whole body flooded with hot longing as she thought about getting close enough to him to smell it on his body.

The shower was turned off.

Tossing the pillow back onto the bed, she crept over to the door of the en-suite bathroom to see whether she could catch an illicit peek at him as he dried and changed, her nerves humming with anticipation.

‘Find anything of interest?’ he asked loudly, and she took a couple of quick steps away in case he came out and caught her spying on him.

‘Not a thing—you’ve been very thorough,’ she called from the safety of the middle of the room.

There was a pause, then a bang like a door closing, and then he spoke again. ‘You know, I think our biggest obstacle in making this thing work is that my mother’s a snob, and that means any girlfriend I have needs to come from a family good enough to meet with her approval.’

His voice was clearer now, as if he was standing right on the other side of the door.

She’d just opened her mouth to reply when he strode back in, wearing a pair of antique wash jeans and a slim-fitting black shirt, left open at the neck, exposing the deep hollow of his throat.

‘Er … we … er … don’t need to lie about that,’ she managed to utter through a mouth that appeared to have stopped working properly.

He’d been gorgeous in his work clothes but he was absolutely glorious in urban chic, with his damp hair all mussed and falling into his eyes.

He raised a questioning eyebrow and she realised she was staring at him with her mouth hanging open.

‘I mean, I actually do come from a good family and I was sent to all the “right” schools.’ She made the quotes sign in the air with her fingers. ‘Plus, my father’s the CEO of a very well respected accounting firm in the City.’

He nodded. ‘Good, that will make a difference.’

She looked down and kicked at a bit of fluff on the carpet with her toe. ‘Of course I haven’t spoken to him in ages—or my brother, for that matter. He’s been living in Australia for the last six years, so we’re not exactly on great terms. And I guess I need to tell you that my mother’s dead.’

She no longer felt the throb of brutal torment whenever she said those words. They just rolled off her tongue, unencumbered.

It worried her some days how numbed she felt to it now.

‘I’m sorry.’

She looked back up to meet his concerned gaze and gave a twitch of her nose and a shrug of her shoulder to intimate that she was unbothered by it. ‘Don’t be. I’m not some delicate little flower that needs protecting. I can look after myself. Been doing it for years.’

He held her gaze, his brow furrowed as if he was trying to work her out. She stared back at him, determined not to be the one to look away first.

Finally he gave her a sharp nod. ‘Do you want a drink?’ he asked abruptly.

Clearly she’d passed some kind of test. Either that or she’d freaked him out by getting a little too personal and he was backing the hell off. ‘I could murder a vodka and tonic,’ she joked, flashing him a cheeky grin.

He raised an eyebrow. ‘I was thinking coffee. Very strong coffee.’

‘Very strong coffee would work too,’ she said, giving another indifferent shrug.

He snorted gently. ‘Okay, I’ll show you the rest of upstairs, then we’ll go back to the kitchen.’ He walked out of the room, leaving her to follow behind.

She caught him up as he went into the next door along the corridor. ‘Guest room,’ he said, waving a hand around the room.

‘Nice,’ she said, nodding sagely. She wasn’t joking either—the whole place was beautifully done out.

‘So, what’s your big secret, then, Theo? Hmm …? Everyone has one? Let me guess.’ She folded her arms, tipped her head to one side and gave him a contemplative stare. ‘A brood of illegitimate children just poised to crawl out of the woodwork? Or perhaps a mad wife stashed away in the attic?’

‘Unlikely to the first guess and not yet to the second, but I’m sure it’s only a matter of time.’

‘Because you’re bound to drive any woman you get involved with round the bend?’

‘Something like that.’

His gaze raked her face for a moment before the corner of his mouth twitched upwards. It was the closest thing she’d seen to a smile since they’d met and a sense of satisfaction warmed her blood.

He must have been uncomfortable with the change in atmosphere, though, because he brought down the frown again, then abruptly turned and walked out of the room, leaving her to hurry after him.

Back out on the landing, he gestured down the corridor, pointing out the other guest bedrooms and bathrooms, then strode off back down the stairs—presumably to make the promised coffee.

She caught up with him as he reached the bottom step and followed him into the kitchen, where he proceeded to set up the coffee-maker.

Turning to look at her once it was gurgling away, he narrowed his eyes, as if deciding how to put his next statement. ‘Not meaning to be insensitive, but we’d better not go into detail about your lack of family harmony in case my mother thinks you’re after me for my money,’ he said finally.