The Blind-date Proposal. Jessica HartЧитать онлайн книгу.
she was going to throw herself at him and force him to marry her. It was understandable, Kate supposed, after the way the others had built her up as a domestic goddess, but he needn’t worry. Getting together with him was the last thing on her mind. She wasn’t that desperate for a relationship!
Finn sat beside her at dinner, radiating disapproval as Kate laughed and drank rather too much wine and talked about clubbing and parties and generally made it clear that she was absolutely not in the market for uptight widowers, no matter how sorry she felt for his poor daughter. Of course, the more poker-faced and buttoned up he was, the more she she had to compensate for Phoebe and Gib’s sake. They had gone to so much effort, she felt that the least she could do was try and make it a successful evening.
Defiantly ignoring the way Finn was looking down his nose, Kate held out her glass for more wine. Anyone with a sense of occasion would relax and have a drink as well. They would agree to call a taxi and come and pick up the car in the morning, but the Finns of this world evidently didn’t do relaxing or having fun.
Of course, it was a bit tricky trying to impress her complete lack of concern on Finn and ignore him at the same time, especially when she was so aware of his austere presence beside her. It wasn’t that he didn’t contribute to the conversation, but he made it very clear that he thought Kate was too silly for words, which just made her nervous, and nervousness made her drink more until she was trapped in a vicious circle. As the evening wore on, she could hear herself getting louder and more outrageous, and had reached the owlish stage when Finn, obviously unable to bear any more, looked at his watch.
‘I must go,’ he said, pushing back his chair to forestall any objections.
‘I think you should go too,’ said Gib to Kate with a grin, ‘or you’ll never get to work tomorrow.’
Kate didn’t want to think about going into work. ‘Don’t talk about it,’ she groaned, closing her eyes, but that was a mistake. The room started to spin and she opened them again hastily, clutching her tousled curls instead.
‘I don’t suppose you could give her a lift home, could you?’ Gib asked Finn. ‘She can’t be trusted to get home alone in this state!’
‘I’m absolutely fine,’ Kate protested instantly, lifting her head and trying not to sway at the sudden movement. ‘I’m great!’
‘You’re fab,’ agreed Phoebe soothingly, helping her to her feet, ‘but it’s time to go. Finn’s going to take you home.’
‘Why can’t Josh take me?’
‘Because I haven’t got my car with me and I live in completely the opposite direction,’ said Josh ungallantly.
‘I’m very happy to give you a lift,’ said Finn with a certain grittiness, clearly feeling far from happy but unable to think of a good excuse.
Outside, it was raining and making a determined effort to sleet, if not actually to snow. Finn watched, resigned, as Gib and Phoebe helped Kate into her coat like a little girl for the short walk to the car, buttoning her up and kissing her goodnight before consigning her into his charge.
Kate thanked them both graciously for supper, although she had a sinking feeling that the words might have come out a bit slurred, and set off down the path, very much on her dignity. Unfortunately, the effect was spoilt by stumbling on her heels, and only Finn’s hand which shot out and gripped her arm stopped her landing smack on her bottom.
‘Careful!’ he said sharply.
‘Sorry, the path’s a bit slippy…slippery,’ Kate managed, wincing at the iron grip of his fingers. She tried to pull her arm away, but Finn kept a good hold of her as he marched her along to his car.
‘You’re the one that’s a bit slippy,’ he said acidly and opened the door with what Kate felt was unnecessarily ironic courtesy.
Tired of being treated like a child, she got in sulkily, and he shut it after her with an exasperated click.
The car was immaculate. There were no sweetie wrappers, no empty cans, no forgotten toys or scuffed seats. It was impossible to believe that a child had ever been in it, thought Kate, wondering where poor little Alex fitted into Finn’s efficiently streamlined life.
Still buoyed up by a combination of alcohol and nerves, and anticipating an uncomfortable journey, she leant forward and switched on the radio. Classical, of course. Pressing random buttons, she searched for Capital Radio, until Finn got in to the driver’s seat and switched it off with a frown.
‘Stop fiddling and do up your seatbelt.’
‘Yes, sir!’ muttered Kate.
Finn lay his arm along the back of her seat and swivelled so that that he could see to reverse the car along the narrow street to the turning place at the bottom. Kate was acutely aware of how close his hand was to her hair and she made a big deal of rummaging in her bag at her feet in case he thought that she was leaning invitingly towards him.
It was a relief when they reached the turning place and Finn took his arm away to put the car into gear. At least she could sit back.
Only it wasn’t that much easier then. Finn was a fierce, formidable presence, overwhelming in the dark confines of the car while the rain and the sleet splattered against the windscreen and made the space shrink even further. The light from the dashboard lit his face with a green glow, glancing along his cheekbones and highlighting the severe mouth.
He was concentrating on driving, and Kate watched him under her lashes, daunted more than she wanted to admit by his air of contained competence. It was evident in the calm, decisive way he drove, and when her eyes followed his left hand from the steering wheel to the gear stick, something stirred inside her and she looked quickly away.
Her wine-induced high had shrivelled, leaving her tongue-tied and agonisingly aware of him. It was ridiculous, Kate scolded herself. He was still Finn. He was a disagreeable, if thankfully temporary, boss and an ungracious guest. She didn’t like him at all, so why was she suddenly noticing the line of his mouth and the set of his jaw and the strength of his hands?
‘Where am I going?’
His brusque question broke the silence and startled her. ‘What?’
‘Gib asked me to take you home. Presumably he knows where that is, but I’m not a mind-reader.’
‘Oh…yes.’ Kate huddled in her seat, too appalled by this new awareness of him to rise to his sarcasm the way she would normally have done.
She directed him through the dark streets while the windscreen wipers thwacked rhythmically at the sleety rain and the silence in the car deepened until Kate could bear it no longer.
‘Why didn’t you tell Gib and Phoebe that you recognised me?’
Finn glanced at her. ‘Probably for the same reason that you didn’t,’ he said curtly. ‘I thought it would make the situation even more awkward than it already was.’
His tone was so uninviting, that Kate subsided back into silence. Anyone else giving her a lift home would have made some attempt at conversation, even if only to talk about the evening or the food or even, if things were desperate, the weather, but Finn was evidently in no mood for idle chit-chat. His face was set in grim lines and when he glanced in the rear-view mirror, Kate could see that he was frowning.
‘It’s just along here.’ She pointed out her street in relief. ‘There’s never anywhere to stop, so if you could drop me here, that would be fine, thanks.’
Finn ignored her, turning down the street she had indicated. ‘How far down are you?’
‘About halfway,’ admitted Kate, surrendering to force majeure. She pointed. ‘Just past that streetlight.’
As usual, the street was lined with cars bumper to bumper, so Finn had no choice but to stop in the middle of the road. Kate fumbled for the doorhandle as he put on the handbrake.
‘Thank you for