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The Man Every Woman Wants. Miranda LeeЧитать онлайн книгу.

The Man Every Woman Wants - Miranda Lee


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SIX

      ‘RYAN Armstrong,’ he answered quite promptly in his very male voice.

      Laura straightened her spine and squared her shoulders at the same time. ‘Ryan, it’s Laura. Laura Ferrugia.’

      ‘Laura!’

      No doubting the surprise in his voice.

      She could hear noise in the background, people laughing and talking, and live music playing. If she wasn’t mistaken he was still at the Opera Bar.

      Laura decided not to waffle; she wasn’t a waffly person at the best of times. ‘Is your offer still open?’ she asked abruptly.

      ‘Absolutely.’

      ‘Thank God,’ she couldn’t help saying.

      ‘That sounds somewhat ominous. What’s happened to make you change your mind?’

      ‘My aunt happened, that’s what,’ she said sharply.

      ‘Sorry. Have I missed something?’

      ‘I’ll fill you in tomorrow during the drive up there.’

      ‘Up where?’

      ‘Didn’t I tell you? Gran lives in the Hunter Valley. So does the rest of my family. I’m sure I told you.’

      ‘You probably did. I remember you mentioning the John Hunter hospital.’

      ‘Yes, well, the John Hunter hospital is not really near the Hunter Valley. I take it you’re not familiar with the Newcastle area?’

      ‘No. Never been up that way at all.’

      ‘It’s a relatively easy drive. You just take the freeway north and turn off at the signs to the vineyards. I usually make it in just over two hours. If I leave home out of peak hour, that is.’

      ‘And where’s home?’

      ‘Manly. Do you have a nice car?’

      ‘That’s an odd question. Ah, yes, I get the drift. You want to impress.’

      ‘You have no idea,’ she said with so much feeling that he laughed.

      ‘In that case, you’ll be pleased to know I have a very nice car. A navy-blue BMW convertible. Will that do?’

      ‘Wonderful. And Ryan, I hate to tell you this, but my aunt assumed that we’d be staying the night and I simply couldn’t get out of it. Though you don’t have to worry that we’d have to share a bedroom. Gran would never tolerate that in her home.’

      But it wasn’t her gran’s home any more, came the sudden thought.

      Surely her aunt wouldn’t put them in the same bedroom?

      Surely not?

      But she just might …

      Best not say anything, or Ryan might back out of the deal.

      It was a worry all the same.

      ‘So, what’s your address?’ he asked. ‘And when do you want me to pick you up tomorrow?’

      ‘What?’

      ‘Laura, get with the programme.’

      ‘Sorry,’ she muttered and gave him the details he requested.

      ‘What clothes should I take with me?’ he asked. ‘I’m getting the feeling that your family has money. Am I right?’

      ‘They’re well off but not seriously rich. Still, my aunt fancies herself a social hostess, so she’ll pull out all the stops for dinner tomorrow night. But you won’t need a dinner suit or anything like that.’

      ‘What kind of place is it?’

      ‘Years ago it used to be a large stud-farm for thoroughbred horses, with hundreds of acres of prime pastureland. But when there was a downturn in the horse-racing industry my grandfather sold off all the horses and went into cattle. Then when he died a few years back and my uncle took over he sold off most of the land to a property developer and invested the money, though he did keep a few cows. Nowadays, the property’s just a small farm, really.’

      ‘I’ve never been to a farm.’

      ‘You haven’t missed much.’

      ‘I take it you’re not a country girl at heart.’

      ‘You take it correctly. There’s something else I should tell you.’

      ‘Shoot.’

      ‘I have a male cousin named Shane who’s apparently a mad soccer-fan and is sure to be at the family dinner tomorrow night. He twigged that you were once a famous goalkeeper and is dying to meet you. Are you all right with that?’

      ‘Won’t bother me a bit.’

      ‘I didn’t think it would but I thought you should know all the same.’

      ‘That’s very thoughtful of you, Laura.’

      ‘You’re the one who’s being thoughtful. I’ll be forever grateful for you doing this.’

      ‘It’s my pleasure. If you must know, I’m quite looking forward to it.’

      ‘I don’t know why. I’m terrified.’

      ‘Yes, I can hear the tension in your voice. Look, don’t make me wait till tomorrow to find out what your aunt said to force you to change your mind. You have to tell me now or I won’t be able to sleep for imagining all sorts of crazy scenarios. It wasn’t just because she found out about my goalkeeping past, was it?’

      ‘No, nothing like that. It was what she said about me.’

      ‘What did she say about you?’

      Laura told him—every insulting detail of her conversation with her aunt, even the bit where she implied Ryan must have been ancient to be interested in her. She could feel her temper rising as she gave vent to her feelings of hurt and humiliation.

      ‘Do you know she had the hide to tell me to wear a dress to dinner tomorrow night?’

      ‘Shocking.’

      ‘Are you making fun of me?’

      ‘Not at all,’ he denied. ‘I think your aunt was very rude.’ He paused, somehow managing to sound completely unconvincing, and Laura remembered his comment about her appearance.

      She bristled. ‘I’ll have you know that I own several dresses. And quite a bit of make-up. I just don’t choose to wear either to work. Or at weekends in the country.’

      ‘But you will this weekend, if you’re serious about impressing your family. It’s not just me who’ll be on show, sweetheart, but us as a couple.’

      ‘You’re not going to call me that, are you?’

      ‘Call you what?’

      ‘Sweetheart,’ she bit out.

      ‘Not if you don’t like it.’

      ‘I don’t like it.’

      ‘What would you like me to call you, then?’

      ‘Laura.’

      ‘Laura it is, then. And Laura …?’

      ‘Yes?’

      ‘Try to relax a bit before tomorrow, will you? You’re way too uptight.’

      ‘Sorry. I can’t help it. I hate having to do this.’

      ‘What? Pretend that you’re in love with me?’

      Laura winced. Did he have to be so baldly honest?

      ‘I guess,’ she said.

      ‘You’ve been madly in love before, haven’t you?’


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