Glass Slippers And Unicorns. Carole MortimerЧитать онлайн книгу.
for the briefs. No one had explained—and she hadn’t liked to ask—why the model wasn’t wearing a bra!
She did know that Reed had been very friendly with the model, that he was on the same terms with a lot of the models Marc used, hence his nickname of Reed the Rake. Reed did seem to be an advocate of ‘safety in numbers’, dating no woman exclusively in the almost seven months Darcy had known him.
‘Marc, if this is your surprise——’
‘You would rather pass,’ he mocked self-derisively. ‘No wonder Reed finds you easy to have around; you’re probably the only woman in his near vicinity that he hasn’t been to bed with!’
Darcy flushed, the statement evoking her own fantasies of being in bed with Reed, fantasies that she knew would never come true. ‘My relationship with Reed is purely business, you know that,’ she said stiffly. ‘We work well together.’ Usually!
‘Hey, I’m not complaining.’ He punched her playfully on the chin. ‘Reed would be a difficult man to follow. In fact, I don’t think I’d even try!’
Not for the first time she wondered why it couldn’t have been this man she fell in love with. He was so much less complicated than Reed, had a wickedly attractive sense of humour, was handsome enough to have been one of his own male models. And he took care of her with an easy familiarity she hadn’t known since she left home. But all she could feel for him was liking, or the love of a friend, a good friend.
‘Then why are we going to your apartment?’ she persisted.
‘Wait and see, birthday girl.’ He drove the car into the underground car park beneath his apartment building. ‘But try and look a little less like I’m kidnapping you!’
She was still badly shaken from the events of this morning, and wasn’t being very good company for Marc; she forced a bright smile to her lips. Whatever Marc’s surprise was, it couldn’t be that bad!
At least Marc had had the decency to warn her to look her best, although after ten minutes of meeting people she barely knew Darcy decided she hated surprise parties, especially ones given for her. She had met most of the people before because she knew Marc, but even so none of them were actually good friends of hers. But Marc, at least, seemed pleased with his surprise.
‘Can we expect an announcement tonight or is Marc going to wait until you get to the church before telling you about that, too?’
Darcy turned sharply at the sound of that mocking voice, forgetting the drink she held in her hand as it slopped precariously over the side of the glass, only narrowly missing the front of Reed’s pale green silk shirt as he stepped back out of its way.
She swallowed hard, hadn’t realised he was here until this moment. ‘Your mother?’ she croaked incongruously.
He swept a mocking glance over the gathering, the beautiful men and women standing around talking in relaxed groups, the drink flowing freely as loud music blared from the new stereo unit Marc was so fond of. ‘I don’t think she would quite fit in here, do you?’ he drawled softly, his gaze returning to her.
‘No,’ she acknowledged ruefully, knowing she didn’t exactly ‘fit in’ either.
Reed frowned at the slightly lost look that had come over her face. ‘If you don’t stand up for yourself now, Darcy, you aren’t going to stand a chance after you become his wife!’
She blinked up at him owlishly. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘Marc,’ he said abruptly.
She glanced over to where Marc was standing, four women making up the rest of his group, all of them hanging on his every word. She shrugged. ‘He’s enjoying himself.’
‘Darcy, he— Never mind,’ he dismissed violently. ‘Each to his—or her—own.’
‘Marc isn’t mine. And I certainly don’t intend marrying him.’ She shook her head. ‘I don’t know whatever gave you the impression I was. Marc is just a friend.’
‘Like we’re friends?’ Reed scorned.
Colour darkened her cheeks. Until today she had believed she and Reed were at least that, although there was so much more on her side. ‘No, not like we’re friends,’ she acknowledged. ‘But——’
‘I didn’t think so,’ he derided. ‘He’ll walk all over you if you give him half a chance!’
Her mouth tightened resentfully. ‘That won’t be anything new!’ She gave a small gasp of dismay as she realised what she had said. ‘I meant——’
‘I know what you meant, Darcy.’ He sighed heavily. ‘And I realise I was rough on you earlier, but this is different. Marc is not husband material. Not for you anyway.’
‘I really don’t know what business it is of yours, but I have no intention of marrying him.’
‘No?’
‘No!’
‘He isn’t going to object if I whisk you off to Florida on Sunday?’
Her eyes widened. ‘Florida?’ She knew his family had lived in Orlando the last twenty-five years, that he occasionally visited them. But he had never taken her with him before.
‘Don’t look so surprised, Darcy,’ he taunted. ‘I do have business dealings in the States, you know.’
‘I do know, but—it’s a bit sudden, isn’t it?’ Even for him! He hadn’t mentioned anything about it earlier today.
His mouth thinned, his eyes narrowed. ‘Something has come up. Are you willing to come with me or not?’
‘Of course I’m willing.’ She frowned. ‘There’s nothing wrong, is there?’
‘Nothing I can’t handle,’ he bit out in a voice that boded ill for someone.
‘Reed!’ Marc joined them, slapping the other man on the back in greeting. ‘I know I invited you, but after your mother’s arrival this morning I didn’t expect to see you tonight.’
‘My mother has gone to bed,’ he drawled. ‘And she assured me that she wanted me to go out and enjoy myself.’
‘And are you?’ Marc challenged, his arm about Darcy’s shoulders.
Reed met that challenge. ‘Not particularly. Don’t you think it might have been a little—kinder, to have warned Darcy about all these people being here?’
‘Then it wouldn’t have been the surprise it was intended to be,’ Marc scorned.
‘Darcy doesn’t like surprises; haven’t you noticed that?’ he rasped.
He made her sound about as interesting as yesterday’s bath water! OK, so she liked her private life ordered and repetitious, but things were less likely to get forgotten that way! Besides, she had enough excitement in her life just being his secretary.
‘She liked this one,’ Marc claimed stubbornly. ‘But if you aren’t enjoying the party you can always leave.’
‘I think I will,’ Reed snapped, pulling Darcy’s hand up from her side to slap a small parcel into it. ‘Happy Birthday. I’ll give you a call tomorrow about Sunday,’ he added abruptly, striding over to the door, to be waylaid by a beautiful red-head as he pulled it open. He murmured something in her ear; the woman’s throaty laugh floated in the air as they left together.
‘I wonder what—or who—has upset him?’ Marc mused a little dazedly, the two men usually being good friends away from the office.
‘His mother,’ she said wearily, slowly unwrapping the present Reed had given her.
Marc pulled a surprised face. ‘She seemed rather sweet to me.’
‘Reed can’t stand it when someone isn’t as organised as