A Second Chance For The Millionaire. Nicola MarshЧитать онлайн книгу.
to worry about that later. Anything was better than looking like a little brown mouse in the kind of elegant company that Darius regarded as normal.
Two dresses held her undecided for a while, but at last—
‘I’ll take this one,’ she said.
‘And the other one,’ said Darius’s voice behind her. ‘They both suit you.’
She whirled to face him. ‘How did you—?’
‘When I found your room empty I asked the desk and they told me you were here. You should have brought me with you so we could make the decision together. Mind you, I like your choices.’ To the assistant he said, ‘We’ll take both of these, please.’
‘No,’ she muttered urgently. ‘I can’t afford them both.’
‘You?’ He regarded her with quizzically raised eyebrows. ‘What has this got to do with you?’
‘Evidently, nothing,’ she said.
‘I invited you here to do me a favour. I don’t expect you to buy your own clothes as well.’ Light dawned.
‘When you say clothes you mean props, don’t you? I’m playing a part and the director chooses the costumes?’
‘Got it in one.’
‘Next thing, you’ll be telling me I’m tax deductible.’
‘Now there’s a thought! Come on, let’s get to work. What have you chosen for the wedding?’
‘I thought that one,’ she said, indicating her first choice.
‘No, something a little more formal.’ He turned away to murmur to the assistant, and another flow of gowns was produced.
‘Try that on,’ Darius said, pointing to a matching dress and jacket.
Turning this way and that before the mirror, she saw it looked stunning on her. As Darius said, it was only right that he should pay the expenses, and when would she get the chance to dress like this again? She fought temptation for the briefest moment before yielding happily. It would take more stern virtue than she could manage to reject this.
While the dress was being packed up Darius said, ‘Now, about jewellery.’ As if anticipating her protest, he hurried on, ‘I’m afraid this will only be hired. Take a look at these.’
If they hadn’t been on hire she knew she couldn’t have accepted the gold, silver and diamonds that were displayed before her. As it was, she was able to make her choice with a clear conscience.
Before they returned to their rooms Darius led her to the back of the hotel, where a huge ballroom was being decorated.
‘This is where they’ll hold the party tonight,’ he said. ‘And tomorrow night the wedding reception will be here.’
More size. This place had been created to hold a thousand. So why was she on edge? she wondered. She was at ease with the much greater size of the ocean. But that was natural, not created artificially to be impressive and profitable. She could never be at ease in an environment like this.
But she smiled, said the right things and tried to look as if she belonged here.
‘I’ve got to go and make phone calls,’ Darius said as they reached her room. ‘I’ll have something delivered for you to eat, then why don’t you put your feet up until your attendants get here?’
‘Attendants?’
‘Hairstyle, make-up. Just leave it to them. You don’t need to worry about a thing.’
In other words, she thought, let them array her in her stage costume and make her up for the performance.
‘All right,’ she said good-humouredly. ‘I promise not to interfere with my own appearance.’
‘That’s my girl! Bye.’
He dropped the briefest kiss on her cheek and was gone, leaving Harriet alone and thoughtful. A mirror on the wall of the corridor showed her a neat, efficient young woman, pleasant but not dynamic.
Still, I’ve never had much chance to be dynamic, she thought. And who knows—?
Her reflection challenged her, sending the message, Don’t kid yourself.
But why not? she thought. If I want to kid myself, that’s my business. Hey, I forgot to ask him—
Approaching his door, she raised her hand to knock, then stopped as she heard Darius’s voice.
‘Mary? So you’ve arrived at last. Are the kids with you?—Fine, I’m on my way.’
Harriet heard the phone being replaced, and moved fast. By the time Darius emerged, the corridor was empty.
Lying on the bed, she tried to rest as Darius had advised, but her mind was too full of questions. What was happening now between him and his ex-wife, between him and his children? Would the wedding be dramatically called off at the last minute because of a reconciliation?
And why should she care? She’d had her chance and turned it down.
The chance wouldn’t come again. She must force herself to remember that.
But after only half an hour she heard him return, walking quickly along the corridor until he entered his room and slammed the door like a man who was really annoyed.
After that she dozed until there was a knock at her door.
Even though Darius had told her about the attendants, what happened next was a shock. They simply took her over, allowing no room for argument, and proceeded to turn her into someone else. She yielded chiefly out of curiosity. She was fascinated to discover her new self.
If she’d been fanciful—which she prided herself on never being—she might have thought of Cinderella. The fairy godmother, or godmothers since there were two of them, waved their wands and the skivvy was transformed into a princess.
Or at least a passable imitation of one, she thought. How well she could carry it off was yet to be seen.
When she was alone again she surveyed herself in the mirror, wondering who was this glamorous creature with the elegant swept-up hair, wearing the dark red glittering cocktail dress. She had always regarded herself as a tad too thin, but only a woman with her shape could have dared to wear this tight-fitting gown that left no doubt about her tiny waist and long legs, while revealing her bosom as slightly fuller than she had imagined.
A princess, she thought. Princess Harry? Not sure about that.
Even she, self-critical though she was, could see how the expert make-up emphasised the size of her blue eyes, which seemed to have acquired a new sparkle, and the width of her shapely mouth.
From nowhere came the memory of her husband, whose work in tourism had often taken him away on trips.
‘I could get jealous of all those expensively dressed women you meet,’ she’d teased him once.
‘Forget it,’ he’d told her. ‘You don’t need that fancy stuff. You’re better as you are.’
‘A country bumpkin?’ she’d chuckled.
‘My country bumpkin,’ he’d insisted, silencing her in the traditional way, making her so happy that she’d believed him and wasn’t jealous. Only to discover at last that she should have been.
And if he’d ever seen her looking like this? Would anything have been different?
Suddenly she wanted very badly to find Darius, see the expression in his eyes when he first glimpsed her. Then she would know—
Know what?
If she only knew that, she would know everything. And it was time to find out.
A few moments later, she was knocking on Darius’s door. As soon as he opened it he grew still. Then he nodded slowly.