Главная страница | Современные любовные романы | Fiance Wanted Fast!

Fiance Wanted Fast!
Jessica Hart
Phoebe is facing her worst nightmare: an invitation to her ex-fiancé's wedding! About to put on a brave face and pretend her life is just perfect, she's rescued by her best friend's brilliant idea: Phoebe can hire their gorgeous new flatmate, Gib, to pose as her doting new fiancé!It sounds like an ideal face-saving plan–until Phoebe and Gib meet. Gib, on a mission to prove he can be "just good friends" with a woman, finds his willpower tested by Phoebe. And Phoebe is having trouble remembering they're only pretending to be in love! It's all set to be a wedding to remember…



Praise for JESSICA HART:
About A BRIDE FOR BARRA CREEK
“Jessica Hart pens a gripping tale….”
—Romantic Times
About TEMPORARY ENGAGEMENT
“Jessica Hart creates…characters who energize the plot and keep you laughing out loud.”
—Romantic Times
About KISSING SANTA
“Jessica Hart delivers delightful reading….”
—Romantic Times
Harlequin Romance® is thrilled to present a lively new trilogy from JESSICA HART


They’re on the career ladder, but just one step away from the altar!
Meet Phoebe, Kate and Bella…
When their best friend gets married, these friends suddenly realize that they’re fast approaching thirty and haven’t yet found Mr. Right—or even Mr. Maybe!
Living together in the center of London is a lot of fun, but they refuse to admit that they spend more time gossiping and groaning about the lack of eligible men than actually looking for one….
But that’s about to change.
If fate won’t lend a hand, they’ll make their own luck. Whether it’s a hired date or an engagement of convenience, they’re determined that the next wedding invitation they see will be one of their own!
August—The Blind-Date Proposal (#3761)
September—The Whirlwind Engagement (#3765)

Fiancé Wanted Fast!
Jessica Hart




www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE (#u0f8344b5-8c1a-5e92-a700-bcfb9ed99fdc)
CHAPTER TWO (#u86444c70-cc29-5ff5-b63a-e828a08906a5)
CHAPTER THREE (#u568035e5-3787-5292-89e5-179e8f745986)
CHAPTER FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ONE
‘MALLORY left you?’ Josh lowered his water bottle and stared at Gib in surprise.
‘Ironic, isn’t it?’ said Gib with a somewhat crooked grin, shifting his back against the ice wall and putting on his jacket. It had been hot work climbing the last pitch, but at this altitude you soon lost heat. ‘The boot’s usually on the other foot!’
Josh grimaced. ‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ he said slowly. ‘I always liked Mallory. You seemed really good together too.’
‘That’s what I thought,’ said Gib wryly. ‘Mallory’s a very special lady. Smart as anything and beautiful and independent…I really thought she was going to be different.’
He tapped the side of his crampons with his ice pick to loosen the balled ice. ‘But then the old C word started cropping up and I knew that was the beginning of the end.’
‘The what word?’ asked Josh, diverted.
‘Commitment.’ Gib stared morosely out at the spectacular view.
They had stopped for a rest on a frozen ledge, high up on the mountain. It was still some way to the summit, but you could look out at the hills stretching off to the hazy horizon. Gib loved the mountains. The air was clean and pure and the only sound was the wind cutting icily through the brilliant sunlight.
He was glad that Josh had called him up and suggested a climb. It was good to be up here where everything was simple and there was not a tearful woman in sight.
It certainly made a nice change.
‘Why are women so obsessed with commitment?’ he demanded. ‘They all start off pretending that they’re independent and just want a good time, but you’re lucky if you get to a third date without them planning their wedding dresses!’
‘You and Mallory had been together a bit longer than three dates,’ Josh pointed out reasonably. ‘It’s nearly a year now, isn’t it?’
‘Exactly!’ grumbled Gib. ‘We were getting along great, everything was fine…why did she have to go and spoil it?’
‘What did she say?’
‘Apparently I am completely unable to “commit” or to “relate”.’ Gib hooked his fingers in the air to add sarcastic emphasis to the inverted commas. ‘According to Mallory, I just thought of her as part of some kind of smorgasbord of women!’
Josh looked blank. ‘A smorgasbord?’
‘You know, one of those buffet affairs where all the dishes are set out along a big table and you go round to help yourself to whatever you fancy.’
‘Right,’ said Josh, none the wiser.
‘Mallory’s theory is that I treat women like so many different dishes, so that even if I find one I really like, I won’t be content to stick with one because I’ll always be wondering if there might not be one I might like even better further along the table.’ Gib gave an exclamation of disgust. ‘Don’t you hate it when women analyse you?’
Josh didn’t answer directly. Behind the dark glasses that protected his eyes from the glare, his expression was unreadable as he studied the view and considered Mallory’s theory.
‘She’s right, though, isn’t she?’ he said at last.
‘Listen, whose side are you on?’ demanded Gib.
‘You’re the one who said that she’s a smart lady.’
‘I just happen to like women,’ said Gib defensively. ‘What’s wrong with that?’
‘Nothing.’
‘And women like me.’ He scowled. ‘I love women! It’s ridiculous to say that I can’t relate to them properly!’
‘Is that what Mallory says?’
‘She says I’ve got no idea how to be friends with a woman.’ Gib sounded outraged. ‘Can you believe that?’
‘Yes.’
‘What do you mean?’ he asked, taken aback by the typically quiet, uncompromising reply. Josh was so…so…so British…sometimes!
Josh was checking the ropes. ‘Have you ever had a platonic relationship with a woman? A good one?’
‘Sure.’
‘When?’
‘When? Well, let’s see…when…when…’ Gib searched his mind frantically. ‘OK, I can’t think of anyone right this moment,’ he was forced to acknowledge, ‘but I’m sure there must have been someone. I bet you can’t think of anyone either,’ he added, going on the offensive.
It didn’t faze Josh. ‘Yes I can,’ he said calmly. ‘Bella is one of my best friends, probably the best friend I’ve got, in fact. We were students together, and we’ve been close ever since.’
‘And you’ve never slept with her?’
‘No.’
‘I bet you wanted to!’
Josh shook his head. ‘No, that would spoil our friendship. Bella’s always got some man in tow, and I have girlfriends, but it’s different with her. I prefer what we’ve got. I can talk to Bella in a way I can’t talk to anyone else. We understand each other.
‘It’s nothing to do with sex,’ he went on. ‘You could never be friends with a woman in the same way.’
‘Want a bet?’ said Gib, ruffled.
‘OK.’
‘OK?’
Josh tied off the end of the rope and sat back against the rock. ‘I’ll bet you…let’s say ten thousand dollars?…to the charity of your choice that you can’t be friends with a woman.’
Gib laughed. ‘Ten thousand dollars? You’re kidding, right?’
‘You can afford it.’
‘Yeah, but can you?’
‘I don’t think I will have to,’ said Josh with annoying calm.
Well, Gib wasn’t a man who could turn down a challenge like that! His eyes narrowed.
‘Being friends is a bit subjective, isn’t it? How would we decide if I’d succeeded or not?’
Josh unwrapped an energy bar and chewed meditatively for a while. ‘How would you feel about spending a few weeks in London?’ he asked at last.
‘It wouldn’t be a problem, I guess,’ said Gib, a bit thrown by the apparent non sequitur. ‘It’s easy enough to keep in touch with what’s happening here wherever I am.’
Absently he took the bar Josh handed him out of his rucksack. ‘As a matter of fact,’ he went on slowly, ‘it might suit me quite well. I’ve been thinking about developing more European connections and with this whole Mallory thing, I wouldn’t mind leaving the country for a while. I could do without all those scenes about who takes what!’
‘OK.’ Josh nodded briskly. ‘Here’s the deal. Bella shares a house in south London with three other girls, but one of them is getting married soon, so they’re going to have a spare room. I reckon I could arrange it for you to live with them for a while.’ He grinned. ‘I think it would be a real test for you! If at the end of six weeks Bella and Kate and Phoebe all describe you to me as a real friend, you name the charity and I’ll send the cheque!’
‘Hhmmnn.’ Gib looked a bit dubious. ‘What are these girls like?’
‘They’re just three very nice, very ordinary English girls.’
‘And that’s it? I just live with them for six weeks and be their friend?’
‘There’s one more condition,’ said Josh. ‘You have to go incognito. You’ve had too many attractive, successful women falling over themselves for you here. Mallory’s a psychologist and before that there was the TV presenter and that model…what was her name? The one with the legs up to her armpits?’
‘Verona?’
‘That’s the one.’ Josh allowed himself to remember her legs for a moment. They really had been spectacular.
‘Anyway, the point is, you’re spoilt!’ he went on. ‘It’ll be different in London. The girls won’t know anything about you, so you won’t be able to buy their affection or impress them the way you do here. You’ll just have to be yourself and if you can’t be friends with them under those circumstances then you’ll just have to accept that Mallory is right!’
Gib’s face was inscrutable behind the dark glasses that cut out the mountain glare as he studied the horizon.
He was thinking about his father, who was now on his fourth wife. Gib got on with his father fine, but he didn’t want to be like him. He had seen too many women in tears because his father’s idea of commitment turned out to be very different from theirs.
Gib, on the other hand, prided himself on never making promises he couldn’t fulfil. He always made it clear to girlfriends that he wasn’t offering happy ever after, and frankly couldn’t see what was so wrong with being honest about wanting to live in the present without tying yourself to a future you weren’t ready for.
But that didn’t mean he couldn’t be friends with a woman! No way was Gib prepared to accept that his attitude was anything like his father’s. If he didn’t have a female friend like Josh, it was just because most of the women he knew were more interested in being wives than friends.
Well, he would show Josh and Mallory and his father that he was perfectly capable of building a relationship with a woman that was based on friendship rather than sex. He would take the bet.
‘Ten thousand dollars?’ he said.
‘Ten thousand dollars.’
‘And I get to choose the charity that gets the money?’
‘Only if you win. Otherwise I do.’
‘OK, then.’ Gib grinned as he held out his hand to Josh. ‘You’re on!’
Phoebe collapsed onto the sofa, kicking off her shoes and swinging her legs up with a sigh of relief. ‘My feet are killing me! Next time I go to a wedding, remind me not to wear stilettos!’
‘They are fab, though,’ said Bella, handing out mugs of tea. It had been a sad moment when they all realised that after drinking champagne all day tea was all they really wanted. ‘Sometimes you just have to suffer for style.’
Kate took her tea gratefully. She was lolling on one of the deep chairs, with her legs dangling over one arm.
‘Personally I’d be exhausted if I had to be that stylish all the time. I’d no idea it was going to be such a smart wedding. Did you see some of those women there? It must be a full-time job looking like that! I felt so dowdy, like I was one of those embarrassing relatives you have to invite but nobody wants to talk to.’
‘I know,’ Phoebe agreed gloomily. ‘You could tell they weren’t at all surprised that we couldn’t muster a single boyfriend between us.’
‘Oh, come on, it wasn’t that bad,’ said Bella. ‘I thought it was excellent! I love smart weddings like that. If I ever get married, I’m going to do it like Caro—the posh church, reception at some classy club, hundreds of guests all looking incredibly stylish.’
‘Better get some new friends then,’ said Phoebe rather indistinctly through a mouthful of chocolate digestive. ‘If you’re going to impose a fashion code, half of us won’t be able to come. Kate and Josh and I will be camped out on the church steps just to get a glimpse of you as you sweep by!’
Bella grinned. ‘Oh, Josh brushes up pretty well, and I’m sure I’ll be able to find a dark corner to put you two in!’
‘Better tell your father to start saving now,’ put in Kate. ‘That wedding today must have cost a packet.’
‘I think Anthony must have contributed. It’s not as if he can’t afford it!’
‘Well, I’d rather have a traditional country wedding,’ said Kate. ‘Just family and good friends and a marquee in my parents’ garden so we can walk back from the village church. I’m going to have my two little nieces as bridesmaids,’ she went on dreamily. ‘They’d look sweet in taffeta with puffed sleeves and—’
She stopped as she saw Phoebe and Bella looking at her. ‘Not that I’ve given it much thought, of course,’ she said, but had the grace to blush.
‘Of course not!’ said Bella. She turned to Phoebe who was saying ‘What about you, Phoebe? Would you go for urban chic or the perfect country wedding?’
Phoebe concentrated on brushing biscuit crumbs from her dress. ‘Neither. I think the best option would be to run away and get married on the quiet so that you don’t have to plan anything. At least that way you would know the bridegroom was going to turn up!’
‘Sorry, Phoebe,’ said Bella contritely. ‘I forgot you’d already been through all this.’
Phoebe attempted a careless shrug. ‘Oh, well, it’s been over a year now.’
Sixteen months, three weeks and four days, in fact.
Not that she was counting.
‘And we didn’t really get as far as planning the wedding before Ben changed his mind.’
Kate and Bella preserved a tactful silence. They knew quite well that she and Ben had been childhood sweethearts and that the chances of her not having spent most of her life thinking about the day they would get married were remote to say the least.
At least her parents hadn’t sent out any invitations. She had been spared the humiliation of returning presents and answering sympathetic notes, although everybody had known, of course.
Phoebe picked up her tea. ‘Anyway,’ she said, ‘I don’t think any of us need panic about planning our weddings just yet. It’s not as if hordes of men are desperate to sweep us off to the altar!’
‘No,’ Bella and Kate sighed.
‘I’m beginning to think there’s something wrong with this house,’ she went on gesturing with her mug around the kitchen where they were sitting. ‘It’s as if it’s cursed with a special man-repelling aura! Do you think I should sell it?’
The other two sat up in alarm. ‘No!’
‘I like it here,’ Kate insisted.
‘So do I,’ said Bella, adding more practically, ‘and we’d never be able to afford anywhere nearly as nice to live.’
‘I know what you mean about the aura, though,’ Kate reassured Phoebe. She brightened. ‘Maybe that explains why Seb has been so funny recently?
‘I think we should try feng shui before you do anything drastic,’ she hurried on before Phoebe could start on the other possibilities for Seb’s defection. ‘I’ve got a friend who does it. Apparently you can change your luck just by shifting your furniture around a bit and keeping the loo seat down so that bad spirits can’t get into the house.’
‘Well, that shouldn’t be a problem with no blokes around,’ observed Phoebe glumly.
‘Kate’s right,’ said Bella. ‘Well, not about the feng shui maybe, but about not selling. It’s a lovely house, and I certainly don’t want to move. I must admit it’s not going to be the same without Caro, though,’ she added. ‘I can’t believe she’d be selfish enough to leave us just to get married!’
‘I know,’ agreed Phoebe. ‘I mean, what’s in it for her?’ She gestured expansively with her free hand around the kitchen which was in its usual state of shabby chaos.
‘Why would she want to leave all this for a big house in Fulham, a cleaner and an adoring husband?’
‘I can’t imagine,’ said Kate loyally. ‘You wouldn’t catch me doing anything like that! Maybe she’ll miss us so much she’ll come back?’
‘I don’t think we should count on it,’ sighed Phoebe. ‘I know it’s going to be hard to replace her, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to find someone else for her room or I won’t be able to pay the mortgage. Neither of you have heard of anyone who’s looking for somewhere to live, have you?’
They shook their heads. ‘Not anyone I would want to share with anyway,’ amended Bella.
‘It looks like I might have to advertise then.’
‘I’m not sure that’s a good idea,’ said Kate nervously. ‘We could get all sorts of weirdos. Remember that film where the new flatmate murders the first girl and takes over her life? We could get someone like that.’
‘Or worse,’ said Bella. ‘We could get someone obsessed with country dancing.’
They were all silent for a moment, brooding on the thought.
‘Or we might get someone obsessed with cleaning,’ suggested Phoebe. She looked ruefully around the kitchen. ‘That wouldn’t be too bad. She’d have plenty to keep her busy, anyway.’
‘I shared with a girl like that once.’ Bella shuddered at the memory. ‘She was completely neurotic about cleaning. There were Post-its all over the flat with instructions about taking out the rubbish or reminders about the dusting rota, and the moment you made yourself a mug of tea she would whip out a coaster and follow you around until you put it down.’
She grimaced. ‘It was seriously spooky! I think we’d be better off with a serial killer or a country dancer.’
‘I think I’d rather sell the house,’ sighed Phoebe.
‘What about that guy Josh was talking about?’ asked Kate suddenly. ‘Did he mention him to you, Phoebe?’
‘Briefly.’ Phoebe drained her mug. ‘What did he say his name was again?’
Kate tipped her head back and contemplated the ceiling while she searched her erratic memory. ‘Gus?’
‘Gib,’ Bella corrected her.
‘That was it.’ Phoebe remembered her conversation with Josh as she helped herself to another biscuit. ‘Doesn’t he only want somewhere temporary, though? We need to find someone permanent.’
‘Yes, but if he was here for a while it would give us time to find someone we really like,’ said Kate.
Phoebe munched doubtfully. ‘We don’t really know anything about him, though,’ she pointed out.
‘We know he’s a friend of Josh’s.’
‘But why does he only want to be here for a few weeks?’ she asked Bella, who as Josh’s best friend could be presumed to know more than the rest of them.
‘I’m not sure. Josh was a bit vague about that. I know he lives in California, but that’s about all. I got the impression he might be in a bit of financial difficulty, which is why he wants somewhere relatively cheap.’
Phoebe looked dubious. ‘If he’s that short of cash, why fly all the way from the States to London?’
‘Maybe he just wants to get away from home for a bit,’ suggested Kate, brightening perceptively at the idea of someone else to take under her wing. ‘Perhaps his heart has been broken, and he needs some time and space to lick his wounds?’
‘Oh, yes, that’s so likely!’ said Phoebe, rolling her eyes. ‘There you are in California, with all that sunshine and spectacular scenery, and you think, “I need to cheer myself up, what can I do? I know, I’ll go and spend six weeks in Tooting!” I mean, nothing against Tooting—I know we like it—but you’ve to admit that a suburb in south-west London isn’t top of everybody’s top ten tourist destinations.’
‘It doesn’t matter why he’s coming, does it?’ said Bella practically. ‘Josh wouldn’t have recommended him if he hadn’t been able to pay the rent, and he can’t be too awful if he’s a friend of his. Why not think about it, Phoebe? Quite apart from anything else, it would be fun to have a man around the house again!’
Kate sat up straighter. ‘And maybe Seb will hear about it and be jealous,’ she added hopefully.
Privately, Phoebe thought it extremely unlikely that Kate’s on-off, but more usually off, boyfriend, known to the rest of the world as Slimy Seb, would care one way or the other, but she knew that Kate lived in daily hope of hearing from him again. She was the only person Phoebe knew who actually believed that if you kept kissing a frog you’d eventually end up with a prince.
‘You never know,’ she said, avoiding Bella’s eye. ‘All right then, we’ll give this Gib a go!’
Gib’s mouth pulled down at the corners as he looked up at his home for the next six weeks. It was part of a terrace of identically narrow, faintly shabby Victorian houses that lined the street, and in the dank drizzle of that April evening even the tub of flowering bulbs at the front door failed to relieve the atmosphere of gloom.
Gib couldn’t help thinking about his home on the Pacific coast, with its huge, light, open rooms and its view of the ocean, and he sighed. He was beginning to wonder if he might regret taking up the challenge Josh had thrown him.
Behind him, the taxi driver cleared his throat meaningfully, and Gib stepped up to the door and pushed the bell, his most charming smile at the ready. A bet was a bet, and it was too late to change his mind now.
He hadn’t heard the bell ring inside, and pushed it again just as the door jerked open and he found himself looking at a tall, slender girl with the fiercest green eyes he had ever seen. She had a swing of straight dark hair, straight dark brows and a generous mouth that belied the severity of her expression.
Gib’s smile blinked off in surprise. Had he got the right address? He distinctly remembered Josh saying that all three girls were very ordinary. They’re just nice, friendly girls, he had said.
This girl didn’t look at all ordinary to Gib, and she didn’t look very friendly either.
‘Yes?’ she snapped.
‘I’m John Gibson.’ Gib put his smile back on, but it bounced right off her. ‘Gib to my friends. And you must be Phoebe, Bella or Kate?’
‘I’m Phoebe,’ she acknowledged reluctantly, and frowned. ‘We weren’t expecting you until tomorrow.’
‘Tomorrow was the original plan, but I was all ready and an earlier flight came up, so I thought I might as well just come on over and turn up.’
He had the bluest eyes Phoebe had ever seen, and they danced in a way that instantly made her feel boring and repressed for not being the kind of spontaneous person that changed arrangements at a whim and breezed across the Atlantic with about as much fuss as she would make popping down to the shop on the corner.
Less, probably.
Phoebe had had a bad day. Her boss, Celia, had been in a vile mood, nitpicking and throwing tantrums with an even greater regularity than normal. Escaping at last, she had spent more than forty minutes waiting for a bus which turned out to be only going as far as Clapham Junction anyway. Too fed up to hang around in the rain, she had set off to walk the rest of the way, without thinking about the fact that it would take her nearly an hour and that she was carrying two heavy folders and wearing quite unsuitable shoes, and when she finally hobbled into the kitchen she had discovered that the pilot light on the boiler had gone out, so there was no hot water for a bath.
And now there was this Gib on her doorstep.
Sod’s law, thought Phoebe morosely. Be at your best with your hair perfectly in place and your lipstick perfectly applied, and you could be sure that when the doorbell went unexpectedly it would be someone doing market surveys or that man who kept trying to get them to change their electricity supplier.
Look and feel like a limp rag, however, and you could guarantee that the most attractive man you had ever seen in the flesh would turn up on the doorstep!
When she looked at him properly, she could see that he wasn’t actually that handsome—his features were too irregular for classic good looks—but he had a quirky, mobile face with eyes so blue and so alive that somehow that was all that you noticed.
Phoebe was distinctly unnerved by the sheer vibrancy of the man. He had that relaxed yet vivid air of someone who spent his life in the sun. Just looking at him was like getting a blast of ozone. He was the sort of man who ought by rights to be at the helm of a yacht or plunging into the ocean waves with a surfboard under his arm, not standing in this grey south London street evidently wondering why she was staring at him.
Recollecting herself, Phoebe stepped back and held open the door. ‘You’d better come in,’ she said awkwardly.
Gib stayed where he was on the doorstep. ‘The thing is, I’ve got a bit of a problem,’ he admitted, and turned to indicate the taxi which was waiting in the street with its meter ticking at a rate of knots.
‘I lost my wallet somewhere between LA and the arrivals hall at Heathrow. I think someone might have lifted it in the baggage hall, but anyway it’s gone. I reported it to the police and have cancelled all my cards but I thought the best thing I could do would just be to get a taxi here and hope someone was in.’
He looked back at Phoebe with a rueful smile that she was sure was perfectly calculated to have most females swooning at his feet. ‘You wouldn’t have some cash to pay the taxi driver, would you? I’ll pay you back, of course, as soon as I’ve sorted something out.’
Phoebe forced herself to resist the smile. It was just a little too like Slimy Seb’s, who only ever came round when he wanted something and who was always patting his pockets and discovering that he had ‘forgotten’ his wallet, knowing quite well what a soft touch Kate was.
This Gib looked as if he was out of the same mould, one of those cocky, charming types that thought all they had to do was smile and everyone else would fall over themselves to do whatever they wanted. Phoebe didn’t trust men like that. She had met too many of them, and seen too many friends like Kate hurt by their selfish behaviour to ever succumb herself.
Gib was watching her expression and reading her lack of enthusiasm without difficulty. ‘Hey, it’s no problem,’ he said. ‘I’ll just get the taxi to take me to Josh’s office. I’m sure I’ll find someone there to bail me out.’
It was lucky that he had mentioned Josh. As Bella’s best friend, Josh spent a lot of time in the house, and Phoebe was very fond of him. If Josh vouched for Gib, she had better not leave him to sort out his own problems the way she was strongly tempted to do.
‘There’s no need for that.’ She managed a brittle smile. ‘I’ll just go and get my purse.’
‘Thanks, I really appreciate that,’ said Gib as the taxi drove off. ‘I’ll let you have the money back tomorrow.’
That was what Seb always said to Kate, too.
‘Everything’s a bit of mess,’ said Phoebe stiffly as she led the way to the kitchen at the back of the house. ‘We were going to tidy up for you tonight.’
They had planned a special welcoming meal as well. Bella was doing the shopping on her way home, but of course spontaneous types like Gib never thought of how they might mess up anyone else’s plans, did they?
‘Hey, I didn’t want anyone to go to any trouble,’ said Gib, alarmed by her frosty manner. ‘Josh said you’d just treat me like a friend and let me muck in with the rest of you.’
‘Now that you’ve turned up early, it looks like that’s what you’re going to have to do,’ said Phoebe, carrying the kettle over to the sink to fill it.
Gib eyed her warily, picking up on the hostility but not quite sure what he had done to provoke it. Maybe she was cross like this with everyone, which would be a crying shame with that warm, creamy skin and that lush mouth, he thought and then remembered that he wasn’t supposed to be thinking like that. All you’ve got to do is be a friend, Josh had said. What could be easier than that?
Clicking on the kettle, Phoebe turned to face him, and Gib looked quickly away. ‘Nice kitchen,’ he said.
It was a big, cluttered room with fitted cupboards at one end and at the other a shabby sofa and deep armchair covered with an ethnic-looking throw. In the middle was an antique pine table submerged beneath a welter of half-read newspapers, magazine cuttings, recipe books and files with papers spilling out of them. Gib spotted an iron, a collection of nail varnishes, a sequin bag, and—he did a double take—yes, a huge tabby cat curled up in a nest of papers.
The kitchen run by his housekeeper at home had gleaming steel surfaces and was so intimidatingly tidy that Gib rarely ventured in there. This room was messier and a lot less hygienic, he thought, glancing at the cat, but infinitely more inviting. The kind of room where you could sit down with a bottle of wine and relax without worrying about what anyone else was thinking of you.
‘It’s the warmest room in the house,’ said Phoebe, looking around and trying to see it through his eyes. ‘We spend all our time in here, as you can probably tell.’
‘Whose is the cat?’
‘Kate’s.’ Phoebe regarded it without affection. ‘She’s got the softest heart in the world. She’s always coming back with these poor bedraggled creatures she’s rescued, and then we all have to run around finding homes for them, but no one will take that cat, worse luck. Anyway, it probably wouldn’t go,’ she sighed. ‘It’s much too comfortable here. Kate spoils it, and Bella and I are terrified of it. Which reminds me,’ she added, ‘be careful when you come down in the mornings. It bites your ankles until you feed it!’
Josh hadn’t mentioned savage cats when he made his bet, Gib thought a little sourly. He hadn’t mentioned Phoebe’s frosty manner either. Gib just hoped that there weren’t any other nasty surprises in store for him.
As if understanding that they were talking about it, the cat got to its feet and stretched. Seeing the size of it, and the ferocious-looking teeth, Gib gave it a wide berth, but it only gave him a contemptuous stare and jumped off the table to land with a thud on the kitchen floor.
Phoebe watched it stalk out of the room and for the first time ever she warmed to it. Here at least was one other creature unlikely to be impressed by Gib’s smile and spontaneity. Kate and Bella were bound to fall for his charm, but Gib would find that she and the cat were made of sterner stuff!

CHAPTER TWO
PHOEBE had been pouring boiling water into a teapot, and now got out a couple of mugs. ‘Kate and Bella will be back later,’ she said. ‘Would you like some tea?’
‘Great,’ he said with the suggestion of a smile. ‘Now I know I’m back in England!’
‘How long have you been away?’
Gib thought a bit. ‘Nearly eighteen years now.’
‘That’s a long time,’ said Phoebe, trying to calculate how old that made him. It was difficult to tell just by looking at him. He had the solidity of an older man, and there were definite creases around the edges of his eyes. He had to be in his late thirties at least, but he had a disconcerting mixture of dynamism and lazy good humour that seemed to belong to someone much younger.
She wished Kate or Bella would come home. Something about him made her feel tongue-tied and awkward and—worse—boring. It was a feeling that reminded her all too painfully of that terrible time when she had wept as she had asked Ben ‘why?’, and he had told her that Lisa was sweet and feminine and fun.
Not like her.
Gib was obviously fun, too.
‘What do you do?’ she asked stiltedly. Too bad if he thought it was a boring question. She was just being polite. That was what boring people did.
Gib didn’t roll his eyes at the banality of her conversation, but he wasn’t very forthcoming either. ‘Oh, this and that,’ he said vaguely as he picked up his mug.
Silence didn’t seem to bother him at all. Phoebe stirred her tea unnecessarily and sought for something else to say. ‘Are you going to be working while you’re here?’ she managed eventually.
‘I’m looking into setting up a couple of projects.’
It all sounded a bit vague to Phoebe, but if he wanted her to think he had a flourishing business with projects on the go, let him. She knew how sensitive men were about their success or lack of it, and she wasn’t that interested anyway.
Gib was looking around him with interest, apparently unconcerned by her awkward attempts to make conversation. Phoebe couldn’t get over how blue his eyes were, and she studied him surreptitiously, wondering if he wore contact lenses to make them that colour, only to flush with annoyance when he caught her looking at him and smiled.
Phoebe jerked her gaze away. He obviously thought she couldn’t keep her eyes off him. How smug could you get? Really, he was just like Seb.
Typical, she thought glumly. The one attractive man to swim into her orbit since Ben, and he turned out to rub her up the wrong way right from the start. Bella and Kate were always urging her to find someone new to help her get over Ben, and she knew that she ought to make more of an effort, but a man like Gib—always supposing he was available—was the last thing she needed. She wanted someone kind and reliable, someone she could trust, not someone who made her feel twitchy and inadequate just by sitting there, no matter how attractive he was.
‘How do you know Josh?’ she asked, when he made no effort to break the silence. ‘You don’t seem at all like him.’
‘Don’t I?’ Gib looked amused. ‘That depends how you think of Josh, I guess.’
‘Josh is wonderful,’ said Phoebe firmly. ‘He’s mainly Bella’s friend, of course, but Kate and I love him. He seems so quiet, but he’s one of the nicest people I know. He never shows off or boasts about how good he is at what he does. He’s just steady and reliable and safe. Anything could happen, and you could always rely on Josh to know what to do.’
It was funny, she thought irrelevantly. Josh was just the kind of man she needed, but it had never crossed her mind to think of him as anything other than Bella’s friend.
‘Yes, he’s very competent,’ agreed Gib, reflecting wryly that he clearly hadn’t made much of an impression so far. He wondered how Phoebe had decided that he was not quiet, or nice, or reliable like good old Josh. All he had done was admire her kitchen and accept a cup of tea.
‘I met Josh in Ecuador,’ he went on, thinking that this was not the time to challenge her for being unreasonable. ‘He was leading an expedition up Mount Chimburazo, and I went along.’
She stared at him in surprise. ‘You’re a mountaineer?’
Gib smiled and shook his head, his blue, blue eyes looking directly into Phoebe’s. ‘No, I just like a challenge,’ he said.
Trapped by the intense blue gaze, Phoebe felt a wave of heat wash through her, and she swallowed, jerking her eyes away with an effort.
There was something disconcerting about him, she thought with an edge of desperation. His presence seemed to fill the room, sucking in all the air until it was hard for her to breathe. His eyes were too bright, his teeth too white, and he was too vibrant, too unsettling, too everything.
Phoebe felt unbalanced, a bit dizzy, and, desperate for something to break the suddenly jarring atmosphere, she pushed her papers out of the way.
‘Sorry about all this mess. I was just trying to do some work before the others got home.’
Gib twisted his head on one side to get a glimpse of the papers. ‘What is that you do?’
‘I’m a production assistant for a company that makes programmes for television,’ said Phoebe, unable to keep the pride from her voice.
Of course, being little more than a dogsbody at her age wasn’t that much to be proud about, but Phoebe had wanted to get into television production for as long as she could remember, and she was determined to make a success of it. Dogsbody was just the first step on the ladder, she reminded herself frequently. It was unfortunate that had ended up with a prima donna of the first order as her immediate boss, but Purple Parrot Productions was her big break, and it was worth putting up with Celia for that.
‘We make documentaries mostly,’ she told Gib.
‘What are you working on at the moment?’ he asked politely.
You never show any interest in my job, Mallory had complained. You have no idea how to talk to a woman as a person in her own right. You only ever think about one thing.
Which was absolute rubbish, of course, thought Gib. He was perfectly capable of talking to a woman seriously. Look at him now, asking Phoebe about her job and listening to her answer and not even thinking about the curve of her mouth or the silky sheen of her hair as she pushed it impatiently behind her ear.
Suddenly realising that he had lost track of what she was saying, Gib tuned in again to hear something about banking.
‘You’re making a programme about a bank?’
‘I thought it was a pretty dull idea too,’ said Phoebe, unsurprised by his reaction, ‘but actually, it’s more interesting than you’d expect. This isn’t an ordinary bank. It was set up by some guy who made a fortune on the currency markets then took everyone by surprise by setting up an ethical bank.’
Gib put down his mug. ‘What?’
‘I know, it sounds like a contradiction in terms, doesn’t it?’ Phoebe had relaxed a bit in talking about her job. ‘I think it just means that it only invests in community-based projects in developing countries. I’ve done some research on the internet, and it sounds really good. It should make an interesting programme.’
‘Is that right?’ said Gib in an odd voice.
‘The only trouble is that my boss is insisting that the focus of the programme should be on the guy who set it all up.’
‘Really? Who’s that?’
‘J.G. Grieve,’ she told him. ‘Everyone refers to him as JGG, and he’s famous for not giving interviews to the media.’ Picking up a printout from a website, she studied it ruefully. ‘I’ve tried all these contact numbers, but I always get the same message: the bank is happy to support any publicity about the projects, but not about JGG himself.’
‘So what else do you know about this guy?’
Preoccupied with her own problems, she failed to notice the oddly grim look around Gib’s mouth. ‘Not much,’ she said. ‘Just that he’s very rich.’
‘He’s not that interesting then, is he?’
‘That’s what I think,’ she agreed, ‘but Celia—my boss—is insistent that I’ve got to arrange an interview somehow. Working on this programme is my big break, so I’ve got to track him down somehow. I’m just not quite sure how I’m going to go about it,’ she confessed.
Gib looked at her across the table and suddenly his expression relaxed and his mouth quirked. ‘Well, I’ve been in the States for a while,’ he said. ‘I know some people. Maybe I could ask around and see if anyone knows anything else about him?’
Phoebe looked back doubtfully. She couldn’t imagine that someone like Gib would have the kind of contacts she needed, but she supposed it was kind of him to offer.
‘Well, thanks,’ she said awkwardly, ‘but I’m sure I’ll get through to someone in the bank eventually.’
Gib grinned at her as he picked up his mug once more. ‘Suit yourself,’ he said.
There was a silence. Phoebe sipped her tea and tried not to feel rattled by the way he was sitting at her table, looking as if he had always sat there. His presence filled the kitchen, which seemed to have shrunk around them alarmingly.
‘I gather from Josh that you’re my landlady,’ said Gib after a while. ‘Thanks for letting me stay.’
When he smiled his eyes looked bluer than ever. Phoebe was more than ever convinced that they couldn’t possibly be real. She looked away from them with an effort.
‘That’s all right,’ she muttered.
‘Are there any rules I should know about?’
Phoebe considered the question. ‘Not really,’ she said at last, ‘but don’t, whatever you do, tell Kate about any stray animal you’ve noticed unless you want to find it sleeping on your bed.’
‘Is that it?’
‘It’s not a good idea to talk to me before I’ve had a cup of coffee in the morning, but that’s advice rather than a rule,’ she admitted. ‘Kate and Bella don’t take any notice of it.’
‘Well, that seems easy enough,’ said Gib. ‘I ought to be able to manage that.’
He produced another of those unnervingly attractive smiles that seemed to linger in the air long after he had stopped, and Phoebe found herself getting to her feet abruptly. ‘Shall I show you to your room?’
‘It’s not very big, I’m afraid,’ she told him, opening a door off the upstairs landing.
‘Not very big’ was something of an understatement, reflected Gib, squeezing into the room behind Phoebe. It was not very big in the way the Sahara was not very wet, or the South Pole was not very hot.
An average cupboard might have been a better description, or possibly a large box. It had a four-foot bed, a built-in wardrobe, and a couple of shelves fixed to the wall. With the two of them standing on the only available floor space, there was absolutely no room for anything else.
‘Out of interest, how long did your last room-mate live here?’ asked Gib dryly.
‘About a year. She was the last to move in, so she got the smallest room.’
Gib was glad to hear it. He would hate to think that anyone was sleeping in anything smaller!
‘Caro didn’t care,’ said Phoebe a little defensively She could tell from his expression that he was less than overwhelmed with the room. ‘She spent most of the time at her boyfriend’s flat. They’ve just got married, which is why we’re looking for someone to take her place.
‘Obviously the rent is lower because you wouldn’t have so much space,’ she went on stiffly, ‘but of course you don’t have to take the room if it’s too small.’
‘No, no, it’s fine,’ Gib reassured her, perceiving that he had got off on the wrong foot. ‘I haven’t got much stuff. I travel light.’
Phoebe could believe it. He didn’t look like the kind of man who bothered with baggage in any shape or form.
Part of her envied people like Gib who drifted carelessly through life avoiding commitment and responsibility and leaving others to clear up the broken hearts and disappointment they inevitably left in their wake, but another part was intimidated and more than a little irritated by them too.
‘Yes, well, it’s not as if you’re staying for ever, is it?’ she said briskly, wishing that Gib would move. The room was small enough at the best of times without him standing there vibrating with energy.
Short of climbing on the bed, which risked looking suggestive, let alone ridiculous, there was no way she could get past him without pressing intimately against him. The thought made Phoebe tense and shiver at the same time.
It was a sinful waste from one point of view, because it was a very long time since she had been this close to an attractive man, but there was something about the way he seemed constantly on the verge of exploding into action that made Phoebe nervous and edgy. Touching him, however inadvertently, seemed an action that would be downright rash.
She was just going to have wait until he moved.
Concentrating on breathing shallowly, she stood as close to the window as she could while Gib looked round. Given the size of the room, that didn’t take long, but it felt like hours before he went back out onto the landing.
‘Can I see the rest of the house?’ he asked, and Phoebe was so relieved to be able to breathe properly again that she gave him a guided tour.
‘It’s a nice house,’ said Gib as they went back downstairs. ‘How long have you lived here?’
‘A couple of years. I bought it with my fiancé, as he was then.’ Phoebe was quite proud of the coolness in her voice. ‘We lived here together for a year, and then Ben decided to move back to Bristol with someone he’d met, so I took over the mortgage.’
Gib didn’t need to know about the anguish and the heartache and the long, long months of misery she had endured since Ben had left.
‘I couldn’t afford to live here on my own, so I had to take in lodgers, and it was just lucky that Kate was looking for somewhere at the same time. We were students together, and she knew Bella from school. Caro was a friend of Bella’s, so it all worked out perfectly until Caro decided to get married. We’re not sure where we’re going to find anyone who fits in as well as she did,’ she confessed as they went back into the kitchen.
‘Can’t you advertise?’
‘We could, and that’s probably what I’ll end up doing, but it’s hard to know what to put when you’re really looking for someone who’ll be a friend and not just a tenant.’
Mindful of his bet with Josh, Gib pricked up his ears at the key word. ‘How do you know if someone is a friend?’ he asked casually.
‘That’s just it, you don’t,’ said Phoebe. ‘You can’t tell who’s going to be a good friend and who isn’t. It’s just something that clicks between you.’
Absently, she began piling her papers together to clear the table a bit, while she thought about Gib’s question. ‘I suppose a friend is someone who’s easy to talk to, who laughs at the same things. Someone who’s just going to fit in and be comfortable sitting around and talking all evening without wanting to organise us or worrying about how long it is since anyone got the hoover out.’
It was a bit vague, but Gib reckoned he could do all of that.
‘Perhaps you should put that in your advert,’ he suggested.
‘I don’t know that it would be much help. You could get someone who said they were able to do all those things, but you still might not get on. It’s a funny thing, friendship,’ Phoebe mused. ‘I don’t think you can ever pin down the magic ingredient which makes you really like some people and not others.’
So much for picking up pointers from Phoebe! Gib sighed to himself. She was clearly not including him in her category of those with that special magic ingredient that would make him a friend!
Not yet, anyway.
Phoebe might be more of a challenge than he had anticipated, but challenges were there to be met. Gib wasn’t giving up yet. He had a bet to win!
‘How are you getting on with Gib?’
Josh and Phoebe were sitting on the sofa, while at the other end of the kitchen Bella and Kate busied themselves with the welcoming supper they had planned for Gib. Bella had told him that they were treating his welcome like the Queen’s birthdays, so that he not only had the real one when he arrived, but the official dinner to mark the occasion a day later.
No effort was being spared. The table had been ruthlessly cleared of its clutter and ransacking the cupboards had revealed no less than four plates, in varying states of repair but with recognisably the same pattern.
‘One of us can have the plate with the bunnies running round the edge,’ said Bella breezily. ‘We’ll need to use one of the folding chairs from the garden, too.’
Now she and Kate were fussing over some elaborate starter, while Gib opened some wine and Phoebe and Josh, assigned to washing-up duty, had retired to a safe distance.
Phoebe looked over at Gib who was manipulating the corkscrew with practised ease. His head was bent and the lights gleaming on his hair made it look fairer than usual.
‘Kate and Bella are completely smitten,’ she told Josh.
‘But not you?’
Phoebe looked away from Gib. ‘I certainly wouldn’t describe myself as smitten with him,’ she said.
‘Why, what’s he done?’
That was the thing. Gib hadn’t done anything. She couldn’t even hold the taxi fare incident against him. He had repaid her in full without prompting that morning.
How could she explain to Josh how unsettling Gib was? He had only been in the house a day, but he was already firm friends with Bella and Kate, and lounged around the kitchen as if he had lived there for ever. Phoebe ought to have been relieved that he was fitting in so well, but instead she found herself edging nervously around him, as if afraid he was about to explode into action at any second.
‘He’s not very restful, is he?’ she said to Josh, and he laughed.
‘You just have to get used to him.’
Phoebe couldn’t imagine ever getting used to Gib. Every time he came into the room she would catch her breath as if startled by the blueness of his eyes and the lazy good humour of his smile. Nobody had the right to be that attractive and that relaxed the whole time!
She wished she could be like Kate and Bella, and treat him like just another friend, but somehow she couldn’t. You weren’t aware of friends the way she was always aware of Gib.
It made Phoebe uneasy. There was nothing wrong with physical attraction, but it felt all wrong at the moment. She wasn’t ready for another relationship, whatever her friends said. Ben had meant too much to her for her to get over him that easily. She might never get over him and, if she did, it certainly wasn’t going to be with someone like Gib. He wasn’t her type at all.
So why couldn’t she get used to him as Josh suggested?
‘I’ll try,’ she said.
Across the kitchen, Gib eased the cork out of the bottle with a satisfying pop and watched Phoebe talking to Josh. For the first time, he wondered if there might be something in this friendship thing. He had found himself envying Josh’s uncomplicated friendship with the three girls, who were all patently delighted to see him. Even Phoebe’s face had lit up, and she had given him an unselfconscious hug.
Gib sensed that she wasn’t someone who hugged indiscriminately. It would be a real sign of acceptance if Phoebe hugged you, he thought. He could imagine with unnerving clarity what it would be like to feel her slender body in his arms, her silky hair against his cheek. He bet she smelt wonderful. He had noticed a faint scent lingering in the air after she had passed once or twice.
All right, every time.
Hugging Phoebe would be his goal, Gib decided. Just in a friendly way, of course, he added hastily to himself. It would be just like hugging Kate and Bella, both of whom had thrown their arms around him when they first met him.
They were both such warm, friendly open girls that it was impossible not to be friends with them. Gib already knew about Kate’s obsession with someone referred to by Bella and Phoebe as Slimy Seb, and he had heard so much about Bella from Josh that she felt completely familiar.
But Phoebe…Phoebe was different. She was much more guarded and inclined to be prickly. Gib knew that he would have to work hard to earn her friendship and the prospect of a hug, but if he did, he thought it would be worth it.
Bella’s Thai crab cakes to start were a huge success. Kate had roasted a chicken and Phoebe had been persuaded to make her trade mark strawberry torte in honour of the occasion. By the end of the meal, they were all replete and relaxed, and Gib felt as if he had been living there for ever.
‘I’ll make some coffee.’ Phoebe pushed back her chair as Gib polished off the last of the torte. Unsettling he might be, but you had to admit that there was something very appealing about a man with a good appetite.
‘How was Celia today?’ asked Bella, sitting back with the air of one anticipating a good story.
Phoebe filled the kettle under the tap. ‘Oh, the usual nightmare,’ she sighed.
‘Phoebe has the boss from hell,’ Bella leant over to fill Gib in. ‘Kate and I love hearing about her. It’s sort of therapeutic. When you realise what Phoebe’s going through with her immediate boss, it makes you realise that your own isn’t that bad.’
‘What’s she done now?’ Kate asked across Bella.
‘She’s completely obsessed with the man who runs this ethical bank we want to make a programme about. Now she’s threatening to dump me from production work altogether if I can’t fix up an interview with him!’
‘She can’t do that, can she?’
‘It’s such a small company, and so many people are desperate to work in television that she can pretty much do whatever she wants,’ said Phoebe despairingly. ‘Personally, I don’t see why we can’t just concentrate on the community projects which are the whole point of the bank, but Celia keeps banging on about the personal angle, and how this guy is the real story.
‘I’m afraid she wants to do one of those horrible, cynical hatchet jobs,’ she went on, opening and closing cupboard doors in search of the cafetière. ‘Her theory is that nobody could make that kind of money and be truly altruistic, so if this J.G. Grieve is setting up a bank, it’s because he’s getting something out of it for himself. So I not only have to arrange an interview with him, I also have to dig up any dirt I can find on him so that Celia can challenge him with it and make herself look like a fearless investigative reporter.’
‘Maybe there’s no dirt to dig up,’ said Gib lazily.
‘It’s beginning to look that way,’ Phoebe agreed. ‘All I’ve found out about him so far is that he goes climbing occasionally. It’s hardly the stuff of which award-winning documentaries are made, is it?’
She poked through the debris on the counter. ‘Where’s the coffee gone?’
‘In the fridge,’ said Bella before reverting to the problem in hand. ‘Maybe climbing is just the first clue you need to track him down,’ she suggested. ‘Mountaineering’s quite a small world, isn’t it, Josh? Someone might have come across him. These rich guys always need someone to nanny them when they do dangerous sports like that,’ she added authoritatively, as if she had years of experience of dealing with the rich and famous.
‘That’s a good point.’ Phoebe straightened from the fridge and turned back to the table. ‘You’re always running up and down mountains, Josh. Have you ever come across a J.G. Grieve?’
‘I can’t say the name means anything to me.’ Josh looked across the table at Gib. ‘What about you, Gib? You’ve done some climbing. Do you know anything about him.’
Tipping back in his chair, Gib pulled down the corners of his mouth. ‘Bankers aren’t the kind of guys I want to spend much time with,’ he said. ‘They’re usually pretty boring.’
‘Well, this guy can’t be that boring, or why would he refuse all interviews?’ Phoebe pointed out. ‘Most people in his position would do anything for publicity. The fact that he won’t even consider it does make it seem as if he’s got something to hide. Maybe Celia’s right about that.’
‘There might be lots of reasons why he doesn’t want to talk to journalists,’ objected Gib, still balanced precariously on his chair.
‘Yes, maybe he had a terrible accident that left him scarred for life,’ Kate put in. ‘His wife died in the same accident, and their only child, and probably their dog as well.’
‘Oh, no, not the dog as well!’ said Gib, much struck by the story unfolding.
Kate nodded firmly. ‘Yes, a little terrier. Called Ruffy,’ she added as an afterthought. ‘And you see that’s why he’s never been able to forgive himself. He’s shut himself away from the world ever since then, unable to face anyone.’
There was a moment’s silence, interrupted by Phoebe bringing the coffee back to the table.
‘Kate has a very rich fantasy life,’ she explained kindly to Gib. ‘You’ll get used to it.’
‘Well, she convinced me,’ he said. ‘I think you should leave the poor guy alone and stop hassling him for an interview!’
‘I wish I could,’ sighed Phoebe. ‘I’m sure that in reality he’s really dull and avoiding interviews is just a way to try and make himself interesting. I think I’ll tell Celia that I’m following leads, and hope that eventually she’ll forget him.’
She held up the cafetière. ‘Who’s for coffee?’
‘Any messages?’ Kate asked hopefully, dropping her bag onto the table. It was over a week since their welcoming dinner for Gib, and she had come home to find Phoebe and Bella draped over the armchairs and nursing a glass of wine each as they grumbled about their respective bosses.
‘No,’ said Phoebe. ‘And before you ask, yes, the phone is working! No post has been discovered under the doormat, there have been no emails or telegrams or bunches of flowers that accidentally got delivered to the wrong address six weeks ago. You’ve got to face it, Kate,’ she said more gently. ‘Seb’s not going to ring.’
‘But why is he being like this?’ wailed Kate.
‘Because he’s vile,’ said Bella firmly. ‘Phoebe’s right. Seb is never going to love anyone but himself. It suited him to string you along for a while, but he’s obviously found someone new to exploit.’
Kate slumped into the sofa with a sigh. ‘You don’t think he was knocked over by a bus and lost his memory?’
‘No.’
‘Or had to go to his grandmother’s funeral on a deserted island where all the phone lines are down and they’re cut off because of storms?’
‘What, for six weeks?’
‘Well, maybe he’s part of some top secret government programme where he’s not allowed to contact anyone and—’
‘No, Kate.’
She sighed again. ‘I know, I know, it’s probably not that. You’re right, he’s not going to call.’
Her eye fell on the cordless phone that was lying half buried under a pile of papers at the end of the sofa, and Phoebe and Bella both jerked upright as she reached for it.
‘Kate, you are not going to ring him!’
‘I’m just checking to see if anyone else called,’ she said with dignity, pressing 1471. She listened to the number on the recorded message and her mouth drooped. ‘No, it wasn’t Seb. Some Bristol number I think.’
Phoebe dropped her head back with a groan. ‘That’ll be my mother. She wants to talk to me about Ben’s wedding.’
‘You’re not really going to go to that, are you?’ asked Bella curiously.
‘I’ve got to,’ she said. ‘Ben’s family and mine are so close, it would be like his sister not being at his wedding.’
‘Still, they can’t expect you to celebrate your fiancé marrying somebody else,’ said Kate.
‘They don’t know it wasn’t a mutual decision to break up,’ Phoebe confessed. ‘They were all so happy when Ben and I got engaged, I just couldn’t bear to tell them. I love Penelope and Derek. Ben’s parents are closer than any of my own aunts and uncles. They would have been devastated if I hadn’t pretended that Ben and I had both agreed that it wasn’t going to work.’
‘They must have had a clue when he told them he was going to marry Lisa, surely?’
‘He didn’t tell them immediately. They might have suspected something, but I think they’d prefer to believe that I’m quite happy with the situation, so if I don’t turn up they’ll realise immediately that’s not exactly the case.’
Phoebe ran her fingers through her hair in a hopeless gesture. ‘Then they’d be upset, and it would spoil the wedding for them, and I can’t do that to them. As it is, Penelope and Mum are desperately worried in case I’m embarrassed, or Ben is embarrassed, or Lisa is embarrassed…’
She sighed. ‘I think they’re secretly afraid that I might make some kind of scene when it comes down to it. I’m dreading going to the wedding on my own. It’s bad enough at the best of times. You know what people are like about single women in their thirties, and it’s going to be worse at this wedding since there’ll be so many old friends there who all knew me when Ben and I were together.
‘I know I’m going to end up looking like Glenn Close in Fatal Attraction. Either people are going to be edging warily around me and making sure any stray bunnies are safe, or they’ll be desperately sorry for me. I’ll spend my whole time being told cheerily that it will be my turn next,’ she finished gloomily.
‘It’s dire, isn’t it?’ said Kate with heartfelt sympathy. ‘It’s either that or being asked if it isn’t time you were thinking of getting married—like you’ve got some kind of choice in the matter!’
Bella had been pondering the problem. ‘What you need,’ she said, ‘is a man.’
‘Tell us something new!’
‘No, I’m serious. You should take a fabulous lover to show off at the wedding.’
‘Oh, yes, and fabulous lovers are so easy to find!’ said Kate sarcastically. ‘Didn’t you hear the announcement? It’s now official: there are now no single, straight men over thirty at all in London, let alone any with a modicum of intelligence and financial stability. And as for trying to find one not suffering from a morbid fear of commitment…forget it!’
‘Maybe not,’ said Bella, ‘but there’s nothing to stop Phoebe inventing one.’

CHAPTER THREE
FOR a moment there was utter silence, and then Kate looked at Bella with new respect. ‘That’s a brilliant idea, Bel!’ she said.
Phoebe was less impressed. ‘I don’t see that an imaginary lover is going to do me much good, however fabulous he is!’
‘The whole point is that he doesn’t seem to be imaginary,’ said Bella. ‘All you need is to hire someone to pretend to be a lover as fabulous as you want!’
‘You don’t mean hire a male escort?’ Phoebe stared at her, appalled. ‘I couldn’t do that!’
‘I’m not suggesting that you pick up some gigolo,’ said Bella reasonably. ‘I bet you’re not the first woman to need an escort in this kind of situation. There must be some reputable agencies that supply presentable types who are used to going along to weddings and official dinners. You’d have to pay for it, of course, but there wouldn’t have to be any funny business.’
‘Yes, and since you’re paying him, you could get him to say whatever you wanted,’ Kate added eagerly, picking up the idea and running with it with typical enthusiasm.
‘He’s bound to be good-looking if he works for an escort agency, so you could pretend he’s incredibly rich and successful, too. You can tell everyone that he utterly adores you, and asks you to marry him every day, but you’re not sure whether he’s exactly what you want, so you’re keeping him dangling.’
‘Why would I want to do that?’
‘So everyone will envy you, of course. The other women at the wedding, anyway,’ Kate qualified. ‘And the best thing is that if anyone meets you in the future and asks what’s happened to him, you can say that you just got bored with his insatiable sexual demands!’
Phoebe couldn’t help laughing. ‘That doesn’t sound very likely!’
‘OK, he can’t satisfy your insatiable appetite!’
‘Oh, yes, I can see myself telling Mum that when she asks why I don’t bring my nice young man down for the weekend!’
‘Kate’s just complicating things,’ said Bella, bringing them back to order. ‘All you need is someone attractive who will brush up nicely in a suit and look suitably adoring so that instead of everyone pitying you or making their husbands and boyfriends cover their eyes whenever you go near them, they’ll all be madly jealous!’
Phoebe let herself imagine what it would be like to turn up at Ben’s wedding with someone apparently rich and good-looking on her arm. She had to admit that as an idea, it had its advantages. Her mother and Penelope would relax and enjoy the wedding for a start, and there was no doubt that it would be easier to meet Ben and Lisa if she wasn’t quite so obviously left on the shelf.
‘I’m not sure I would have the nerve to carry it off,’ she said doubtfully.
Bella was having none of that. ‘Of course you would,’ she said briskly. ‘Now, the first thing is for you to start dropping a few hints to your mother that you’ve met someone special, and then we’ve just got to find you a man and get him primed up with your story.’
‘I don’t know…’ said Phoebe feebly, half dazzled and half terrified by the way Bella and Kate were sweeping her along on the tide of their enthusiasm.
They were always doing this, pushing her into doing things and then holding up their hands in innocence when the said things turned out to be a terrible mistake.
The colour of the bathroom paint—a lurid pink they had assured her would look fantastic—was a case in point.
Ignoring her feeble attempts to come up with some sensible objections—Phoebe was sure there had to be thousands, if she could only think of them—Kate and Bella were discussing how best to track down a reputable escort agency.
‘I suppose we could try the obvious and look in the Yellow Pages,’ said Bella eventually. ‘Where are they, anyway?’
She started hunting through the pile of clutter on the table. ‘I’m sure I saw them here the other day. God, we must tidy up soon, I can’t find anything—oh, that’s where my glove is!’ She fished it out triumphantly and tossed it onto the sofa, where it promptly slipped down out of sight once more.
‘Aha!’ she cried, spotting the directory, dragging it free of a welter of paper and beginning to flick through it without much system. ‘What do I look under? A for agency or E for escorts?’
‘Hold on,’ said Kate slowly. ‘I’ve got a better idea.’
Bella looked sceptical. ‘Not another of your elaborate fantasies?’
‘No, no, this is so simple and so obvious I don’t know why neither of you thought of it,’ she insisted. ‘Why go through an agency when we’ve got the perfect candidate living right here in the house?’
‘Who?’
‘Gib, of course!’
Kate sat back and beamed, delighted with her own brilliance.
‘Gib?’
The other two stared at Phoebe’s outraged tone. ‘I never knew you could do such a good Lady Bracknell impression!’ said Bella, diverted.
Phoebe shot her a look. ‘I’m not asking Gib!’
‘Why not? You’ve got to admit, he’s incredibly attractive.’
‘He’s not that special,’ she protested, unwilling to admit anything of the kind.
‘Oh, come on, Phoebe!’ Kate rolled her eyes in disbelief. ‘He’s gorgeous, and you know it!’
Phoebe’s mouth set in a stubborn line. ‘He’s too pleased with himself,’ she said, ‘and I’m sure he must wear contact lenses. Nobody has eyes that blue!’
‘Don’t be silly, of course they’re real,’ said Kate. ‘You’re not doing much of a job of not finding him attractive if the only thing you can think of to say is that his eyes are too blue!’
‘I can see that he’s quite good-looking,’ Phoebe allowed grudgingly. ‘I just think he would be more attractive if he didn’t know it.’
Kate shook her head. ‘I don’t understand why you don’t like him,’ she said, puzzled. ‘I think he’s great. He’s good fun, he’s easy to talk to, he does his bit around the house, and he doesn’t roll his eyes at the mess or insist on correcting you if you say it’s about five hundred miles to somewhere when in fact he knows it’s four hundred and ninety-seven.’
‘Well, don’t you think that’s a bit fishy?’ countered Phoebe. ‘He’s just a little too perfect, if you ask me. Why hasn’t he got a girlfriend if he’s that wonderful?’
‘Maybe he’s gay,’ said Bella dubiously.
‘He’s definitely not that.’ Phoebe’s voice held a tart edge as she thought of the way Gib flirted with everyone from the plump checkout woman at the supermarket, to the elderly lady who lived next door and the newsagent’s shy wife. Flirtation obviously came as naturally as breathing to him, an automatic response to any female that crossed his path.
Except her, of course. He never flirted with her.
‘I’d prefer him if he was,’ she said.
‘I don’t think he’s gay either,’ said Kate. ‘Maybe he’s got a broken heart like the rest of us,’ she added with a sigh.
‘He’s doing a good job of concealing it, then,’ said Phoebe, unconvinced. ‘He’s always smiling, even when he’s not.’
They blinked at her curiously. ‘What?’
‘You know.’ Too late, she heard how obscure she sounded.
‘No.’
‘Yes, you do,’ she insisted, a little embarrassed now. ‘Even when he’s got a perfectly straight face, you get the feeling he’s laughing at you.’
‘Phoebe, it’s called having a sense of humour,’ said Bella as if explaining to a child. ‘And how many men do we know who need one of those? If only they were all like Gib, life would be a lot easier!’
Phoebe was beginning to get frustrated. Her friends just didn’t seem to be able to understand how jittery Gib made her feel.
She picked morosely at the arm of her chair, trying to find the words to explain. ‘He’s just so vague about everything,’ was the best she could come up with. ‘We don’t really know anything about him, do we? I mean, what does he do all day? He talks about these unspecified projects of his, but as far as I can see he spends his entire time lounging around here.’
‘Well, he’s got a laptop and a mobile phone,’ Kate pointed out in an infuriatingly reasonable voice. ‘He can probably work just as effectively from here as going in to some office.’
‘He doesn’t look like he’s working to me. I’ve never met anyone as lazy!’
‘He’s relaxed. That’s a good sign.’
‘No one’s got the right to be that relaxed,’ grumbled Phoebe, determined not to be convinced.
‘Look, aren’t we getting from the point?’ Bella interrupted, chinking a teaspoon against her glass for their attention. ‘Say what you like, Phoebe, but the fact is that Kate’s right. Gib would be ideal. He looks good, he’s got the confidence to carry the whole thing off, and the best thing is that he’s actually living here, so if your mother or anyone rings and he answers phone, it would be dead convincing!’
‘Maybe, but—’
‘And I’m sure he would be willing to help you,’ Kate chipped in before Phoebe had a chance to think up any more objections. ‘You could always offer to pay him if that made you feel better. I get the impression he could do with some extra money and it would be a way of helping him out without hurting his pride.’
‘Oh, yes, let’s worry about Gib’s pride!’ said Phoebe sarcastically. ‘What about mine?’
‘Just think of it as a business arrangement,’ said Bella. ‘It’s all it would be, after all. You were prepared to go to an escort agency, and who knows what kind of psychopath you could end up with there? At least Gib would be a better option than that!’
Phoebe opened her mouth to point out that she hadn’t in fact got anywhere near agreeing to the idea of hiring an escort, but the sound of the front door banging made her stop.
Bella smiled triumphantly as if she had just won the argument. ‘Here’s Gib now,’ she said unnecessarily. ‘You can at least ask him, Phoebe.’
A few moments later, Gib himself breezed into the kitchen. As usual, he brought with him a surge of energy that swirled around the room as if a fresh wind had blown in with him, and as usual Phoebe found herself braced against the impact of his smile.
‘Hey, girls,’ he said and lifted a carrier bag in their direction. ‘I bought more tonic.’
‘You see!’ whispered Kate. ‘How can you say he’s not perfect?’
Phoebe pretended not to hear. Draining her glass, she began to get to her feet. She was not going to let Kate and Bella push her into this stupid idea. There was nothing wrong with going to Ben’s wedding on her own!
‘Gib, we were just talking about you,’ said Bella.
‘Oh?’ Gib turned from the fridge where he was stacking the bottles of tonic.
‘Phoebe’s got something to ask you.’
Jerking upright, Phoebe glared at her friend. ‘Bel-la,’ she said warningly.
‘Look Phoebe, you’ve been going on and on about how much you’re dreading this wedding,’ Bella said in a firm voice. ‘You were worried about your pride. Well, here’s a way to get through it with your pride intact. What’s the harm in at least asking Gib?’
Gib looked from one to the other. ‘Ask me what?’
‘Come on, Kate, we’ll let Phoebe ask him herself,’ said Bella, getting up. ‘We’ll leave you two alone, and then she can tell you it’s all our fault,’ she added kindly to Gib, who raised an amused eyebrow and turned to Phoebe with an enquiring look.
She put up her chin. ‘I don’t want to ask you anything,’ she said bravely, but Kate and Bella had already whisked out of the door, and she couldn’t follow them because Gib was standing in front of it, his blue eyes alight with that disturbing laughter that never failed to send the air leaking out of her lungs.
‘Yes,’ he said.
Phoebe looked blankly at him. ‘Yes, what?’
‘Yes, I’ll do whatever it is you want me to do.’
‘But you don’t know what it is yet!’
‘Is it illegal?’
‘Of course not!’
‘Immoral?’
‘No!’
Gib shrugged. ‘Then why would I refuse?’
To her chagrin, Phoebe realised she had been manoeuvred into beginning to talk about Kate and Bella’s idea with Gib, exactly the thing she hadn’t wanted to happen! But she could hardly walk out in mid-conversation.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/jessica-hart/fiance-wanted-fast/) на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.