Millionaire's Woman: The Millionaire's Prospective Wife / The Millionaire's Runaway Bride / The Millionaire's Reward. CATHERINE GEORGEЧитать онлайн книгу.
say her name like that, in that deep smoky way. Say something, she told herself. Anything to pass this off. She found she couldn’t, her thought processes seemed to have faltered and died.
She cleared her throat, moistening her lips and then wishing she hadn’t as the piercing gaze followed her tongue. ‘I guess I’m just a little nervous,’ she managed at last. ‘Meeting your guests and so on.’ She waved a vague hand. It wasn’t the people though, just one person and he was sitting right beside her.
‘You are more than a match for them.’
It was dry and she wasn’t quite sure if he was complimenting her or not.
Her face must have revealed her thoughts because his searching gaze was replaced by a smile. ‘You have a very open face,’ he said, the smile lingering at the corners of his mouth. ‘I would have thought that would’ve been a handicap in your line of work.’
She arched an eyebrow. ‘I can be deadpan when I want to be,’ she assured him evenly. It was just that this capability didn’t seem to work around Nick Morgan, although she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of admitting to it.
He settled back in the seat again and Cory breathed an inward sigh of relief as the space between them expanded.
‘So the reason for your single status is down to work obsession?’ he asked smoothly after a small pause.
She didn’t answer this directly. ‘I do not have a work obsession.’
Her voice had been clipped and again the corners of his mouth twitched. ‘What else would you call it when a beautiful woman eats, sleeps and drinks her job?’ he asked mildly.
‘A career?’ She couldn’t remember when she’d last felt so mad with someone.
‘A career doesn’t exclude having friends—’
‘I do have friends.’
‘Or going on dates,’ he continued as though unaware of her interruption.
‘Look, Mr Morgan—’
‘Nick.’ The tone was amiable. ‘Call me Nick or else my guests will think I’ve hired you for the evening.’
He had in a way. She put that fact to one side and concentrated on her main line of attack. ‘I’m sorry but I really don’t see that my lifestyle is any of your business,’ she said hotly. ‘You asked me to stand in for your girlfriend—’
‘She’s not my girlfriend. I thought we’d already ascertained that.’
‘Whatever.’ She put a wealth of disinterest into the word. ‘Anyway, you asked me to stand in for her and I have. I don’t think that that merits the third degree.’
‘You think a little polite social intercourse qualifies as the third degree?’ he asked with reproachful innocence.
Cory swallowed the words she wanted to say. They still had the rest of the evening in front of them and some pretence at togetherness would be required, besides which she was blowed if she was going to rise to his bait. She breathed deeply, counted up to ten and smiled sweetly. ‘One’s definition of politeness can vary so much from person to person, don’t you think, depending on background, upbringing, just how nice someone is?’ she said with saccharine civility.
He knew exactly what she was really saying. Vivid blue eyes held defiant velvet-brown for a few moments and then, to her surprise, he threw back his head and laughed. ‘You’re a formidable lady, Miss Cory James. I have to admit I wondered how a slender young thing like you would be able to take on some big butch parent or other shouting about their rights. Now I know.’
Cory frowned. ‘Do you usually stereotype people so harshly?’ she said sharply. ‘Most of my families are great people who are struggling to keep it together after a rotten start in life. They deserve every little bit of help and support they can get. It’s people like you—’ She stopped abruptly. The evening would certainly be over if she told him what she thought of people like him, and with her aunt paying a fortune for this dress and it having taken her hours to get ready she might just as well see the inside of Templegate!
It was very quiet in the car now. Then Nick said, ‘You don’t like me, do you.’ It was a statement, not a question.
Cory chose not to say anything. The truth was apparent in her silence anyway.
‘Why is that, I wonder?’ he mused thoughtfully.
How long had he got? She nerved herself to glance at him. Bearing in mind he had been pretty reasonable about Rufus, as her aunt had pointed out, she prevaricated, ‘I don’t know you so how could I not like you?’
‘If you’d put just the tiniest amount of warmth into that I might have attempted to persuade myself you meant it,’ he said drily. ‘Is this state of hostilities going to continue all night because I think my guests might have severe indigestion at the end of it if so.’
She glared at him. ‘I promised I’d accompany you and I wouldn’t dream of being other than courteous to your guests.’
‘I’m aware of that. I just thought they might find the evening something of a strain with you savaging their host at every opportunity.’
The underlying amusement in the deep voice made her want to hit him. Instead she called on all her self-control and said calmly, ‘There’s no question of that. I wouldn’t do or say anything to embarrass them.’
‘So I can count on you to give the impression we’re the perfect couple?’
‘Utterly,’ she said with biting sarcasm.
‘Love’s young dream even?’ he drawled lazily.
The quirk to his eyebrows and complete refusal to be affronted by her bad humour brought a reluctant smile to Cory’s face. Impossible man!
‘That’s better.’ He grinned at her and it did something powerful to the ruthlessly handsome face that made her heart race. ‘Now, let me give you a quick who’s who of who’ll be there tonight, OK? They’re a nice bunch on the whole but one or two are still a bit tender after the takeover. Understandable, but not conducive to good working relations. Hence this evening.’
Cory nodded. His tone had suddenly become very businesslike and that suited her down to the ground.
By the time the Mercedes drew up outside the chrome and glass building that was Templegate she’d absorbed most of the background information Nick had given her. She knew that five of the couples were married, including the big chief, Martin Breedon, and that Martin and his wife had recently been presented with their first grandchild. ‘Good talking point,’ Nick said cold-bloodedly. ‘Folk are always gaga over their grandchildren.’ The remaining four consisted of a couple who both worked at the company and who were seeing each other, and a David Blackwell who was bringing a date.
The chauffeur opened the car door but it was Nick who assisted her out of the vehicle before saying, ‘Bring the car at three, OK, unless I ring before that,’ whereupon he took her arm and led her into the building.
Three o’clock? This was going to be one long night. And then Cory’s mind was washed clear of everything but her immediate surroundings. The place was as expensively luxurious as she had expected and huge, but as Nick ushered her into the cocktail bar, which was fairly buzzing, she spotted at least three celebrities without even trying.
Closing her mouth, which she knew had fallen open, and trying to appear as if she was completely au fait with the milieu, Cory took the seat Nick had pulled out for her at a table which overlooked the vast nightclub below. After glancing at the cocktail menu, she tried to look for the least alcoholic drink. She needed to keep all her wits about her tonight and doubtless it would be one where the drinks were flowing.
‘If you’re not sure, how about a champagne cocktail?’ Nick suggested quietly. ‘I’ve ordered champagne for the table.’
‘Lovely.’