Bridesmaid with Attitude. Christy McKellenЧитать онлайн книгу.
out your friend’s wedding venue? Shouldn’t it be her husband-to-be turning up here, bargaining with me?’
She leant one hip against the wall and gave him a look from under her lashes. ‘We thought you’d be more likely to want to sleep with me.’
He rolled his eyes at the trite joke.
‘Seriously, though,’ she said, grinning at his reaction, ‘Tristan’s away at the moment, and Lula has enough on her plate, so as chief bridesmaid I offered to come instead. Because she’s the person I love most in the world. She’s been my rock, and I want to do this for her because I know how devastated she’d be if her wedding plans went awry. She’s had a pretty tough life and she deserves to be happy.’
The determination in Emily’s face clinched it for him and the last bit of tension drained away.
‘Okay, then we’d better get on with it,’ he said, laying down the hacksaw he’d been clutching in his hand. ‘We only have a short time to get to know a bit about each other. My mother’s visiting friends today, but she’ll be staying here later and it’s probably better not to catch her on the hop. She doesn’t like to be put on the back foot. I’ll tell her about you first, and wait for her to insist on meeting you, then I’ll suggest I invite you over tomorrow for Sunday lunch. We’ll start small.’
‘So we’re not going to pretend I live with you here?’
‘No. That would seem suspicious. She’d expect to have heard about you already if you’d moved in with me.’
‘Still, you’d better show me around in case I need the loo or something when she’s here and have no idea where to find it. That might look a little suspicious too.’
‘Good idea.’
Walking over to a small sink in the corner of the workshop, he washed the grease off his hands before turning back and gesturing for her to step through the door. ‘After you.’
They strolled side by side from the workshop to the front entrance of the house, with Emily craning her neck to look up at the impressive E-shaped building, with its gold-coloured stone, mullion windows and carved geometric frontage.
She let out a low, complimentary whistle. ‘It’s quite a pad you’ve got here, Theo.’
He experienced a surge of pride as he took the opportunity to experience the place through her eyes. After living here for the last couple of years, ever since his mother had moved out to go and live in Spain with her new husband, it was easy to look past the magnificence of the place, but he knew how special it was. He felt a deep and meaningful connection to the place, right down to his bones.
While he rummaged in his pockets for the keys she bent down and pretended to pet the stone lions that guarded the door. ‘Hello again, my fine feline friends. Don’t worry—I come here with the full benediction of your owner this time,’ she purred at them.
He had a disquieting moment when he wondered whether he was crazy to put his faith in such an unknown quantity, and had to remind himself that he didn’t exactly have a better option.
Opening the door, he ushered her inside and introduced her to the grand hallway, with its stone-flagged floor, dark wood panelling and arched stone doorways leading off to the downstairs rooms.
‘This is where the tour begins.’
‘Should I take my shoes off?’ she asked, he suspected only half jokingly.
‘No need. Let me show you the rooms down here first.’
He led her through to the drawing-room, then the morning room, pointing out the odd period feature, then the library—his favourite place after the workshop, which smelled like history—then finally the comfortable converted kitchen-diner.
‘Very nice, Theo. I can see why Lula’s so keen to have her reception here. All this dastardly scheming is definitely going to be worth it,’ Emily said as she gazed around at the oak cupboards and bifolding doors leading out to a large tiled terrace which looked over the extensive gardens.
‘Speaking of which—we ought to get on with it,’ he said, aware that they had a lot to cover in a short amount of time.
She nodded. ‘Yeah, if we’re going to make this work we need to keep our stories simple.’
‘Agreed.’
He gestured for her to follow him back out into the hallway.
‘How about we met in London?’ she said, walking to the bottom of the staircase and propping her elbow on the highly polished oak banister. ‘Through a friend from university, perhaps?’
‘That would work. I used to have a job in the City, so she’d buy that.’
‘And we’ve been seeing each other on and off for a year?’
‘Yes. The on and off thing is good. It adds credence to me not mentioning you already. We could have been “off” when I’ve seen or spoken to her in the past.’
‘Okay. Good.’
He nodded towards the sweeping staircase. ‘Come on upstairs with me while I change, and then I’ll show you the bedrooms and bathrooms up there.’
‘Lead on,’ she said, and he felt her following close behind him as he mounted the stairs.
He stopped at the first door off the landing. ‘This is me. I’ll only be a minute.’
‘Okay,’ she said, surprising him by following him inside.
He turned and gave her a questioning frown.
‘I should probably know what your room looks like,’ she said with a pseudo-innocent smile. ‘Just in case.’
He raised his eyebrows but decided not to kick her out.
She had a point.
Emily stopped in the middle of the enormous woodpanelled bedroom and watched Theo disappear through a door on the far side, which she guessed must lead to his en-suite bathroom and dressing room.
‘Take a look around if you want. I removed all the dead bodies yesterday, so I don’t have anything to hide.’
His voice sounded muffled, as if he had his head in a wardrobe. Then she heard the sound of the shower being turned on.
She smiled and did as he suggested, walking around the room and peeking into a couple of his drawers, finding only some paperbacks and a handful of pens in them.
His bed was enormous and comfortable-looking, and made up with what looked like Egyptian cotton sheets and a large duck down duvet. She walked over and picked up one of his pillows, holding it to her nose and breathing in the manly scent of him. It had some kind of exotic undertone, like lemongrass or lime—something fresh and clean like that.
Something delicious.
Her whole body flooded with hot longing as she thought about getting close enough to him to smell it on his body.
The shower was turned off.
Tossing the pillow back onto the bed, she crept over to the door of the en-suite bathroom to see whether she could catch an illicit peek at him as he dried and changed, her nerves humming with anticipation.
‘Find anything of interest?’ he asked loudly, and she took a couple of quick steps away in case he came out and caught her spying on him.
‘Not a thing—you’ve been very thorough,’ she called from the safety of the middle of the room.
There was a pause, then a bang like a door closing, and then he spoke again. ‘You know, I think our biggest obstacle in making this thing work is that my mother’s a snob, and that means any girlfriend I have needs to come from a family good enough to meet with her approval.’
His voice was clearer now, as if he was standing right on the other side of the door.
She’d