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CHAPTER SIX
‘RYAN Armstrong,’ he answered quite promptly in his very male voice.
Laura straightened her spine and squared her shoulders at the same time. ‘Ryan, it’s Laura. Laura Ferrugia.’
‘Laura!’
No doubting the surprise in his voice.
She could hear noise in the background, people laughing and talking, and live music playing. If she wasn’t mistaken he was still at the Opera Bar.
Laura decided not to waffle; she wasn’t a waffly person at the best of times. ‘Is your offer still open?’ she asked abruptly.
‘Absolutely.’
‘Thank God,’ she couldn’t help saying.
‘That sounds somewhat ominous. What’s happened to make you change your mind?’
‘My aunt happened, that’s what,’ she said sharply.
‘Sorry. Have I missed something?’
‘I’ll fill you in tomorrow during the drive up there.’
‘Up where?’
‘Didn’t I tell you? Gran lives in the Hunter Valley. So does the rest of my family. I’m sure I told you.’
‘You probably did. I remember you mentioning the John Hunter hospital.’
‘Yes, well, the John Hunter hospital is not really near the Hunter Valley. I take it you’re not familiar with the Newcastle area?’
‘No. Never been up that way at all.’
‘It’s a relatively easy drive. You just take the freeway north and turn off at the signs to the vineyards. I usually make it in just over two hours. If I leave home out of peak hour, that is.’
‘And where’s home?’
‘Manly. Do you have a nice car?’
‘That’s an odd question. Ah, yes, I get the drift. You want to impress.’
‘You have no idea,’ she said with so much feeling that he laughed.
‘In that case, you’ll be pleased to know I have a very nice car. A navy-blue BMW convertible. Will that do?’
‘Wonderful. And Ryan, I hate to tell you this, but my aunt assumed that we’d be staying the night and I simply couldn’t get out of it. Though you don’t have to worry that we’d have to share a bedroom. Gran would never tolerate that in her home.’
But it wasn’t her gran’s home any more, came the sudden thought.
Surely her aunt wouldn’t put them in the same bedroom?
Surely not?
But she just might …
Best not say anything, or Ryan might back out of the deal.
It was a worry all the same.
‘So, what’s your address?’ he asked. ‘And when do you want me to pick you up tomorrow?’
‘What?’
‘Laura, get with the programme.’
‘Sorry,’ she muttered and gave him the details he requested.
‘What clothes should I take with me?’ he asked. ‘I’m getting the feeling that your family has money. Am I right?’
‘They’re well off but not seriously rich. Still, my aunt fancies herself a social hostess, so she’ll pull out all the stops for dinner tomorrow night. But you won’t need a dinner suit or anything like that.’
‘What kind of place is it?’
‘Years ago it used to be a large stud-farm for thoroughbred horses, with hundreds of acres of prime pastureland. But when there was a downturn in the horse-racing industry my grandfather sold off all the horses and went into cattle. Then when he died a few years back and my uncle took over he sold off most of the land to a property developer and invested the money, though he did keep a few cows. Nowadays, the property’s just a small farm, really.’
‘I’ve never been to a farm.’
‘You haven’t missed much.’
‘I take it you’re not a country girl at heart.’
‘You take it correctly. There’s something else I should tell you.’
‘Shoot.’
‘I have a male cousin named Shane who’s apparently a mad soccer-fan and is sure to be at the family dinner tomorrow night. He twigged that you were once a famous goalkeeper and is dying to meet you. Are you all right with that?’
‘Won’t bother me a bit.’
‘I didn’t think it would but I thought you should know all the same.’
‘That’s very thoughtful of you, Laura.’
‘You’re the one who’s being thoughtful. I’ll be forever grateful for you doing this.’
‘It’s my pleasure. If you must know, I’m quite looking forward to it.’
‘I don’t know why. I’m terrified.’
‘Yes, I can hear the tension in your voice. Look, don’t make me wait till tomorrow to find out what your aunt said to force you to change your mind. You have to tell me now or I won’t be able to sleep for imagining all sorts of crazy scenarios. It wasn’t just because she found out about my goalkeeping past, was it?’
‘No, nothing like that. It was what she said about me.’
‘What did she say about you?’
Laura told him—every insulting detail of her conversation with her aunt, even the bit where she implied Ryan must have been ancient to be interested in her. She could feel her temper rising as she gave vent to her feelings of hurt and humiliation.
‘Do you know she had the hide to tell me to wear a dress to dinner tomorrow night?’
‘Shocking.’
‘Are you making fun of me?’
‘Not at all,’ he denied. ‘I think your aunt was very rude.’ He paused, somehow managing to sound completely unconvincing, and Laura remembered his comment about her appearance.
She bristled. ‘I’ll have you know that I own several dresses. And quite a bit of make-up. I just don’t choose to wear either to work. Or at weekends in the country.’
‘But you will this weekend, if you’re serious about impressing your family. It’s not just me who’ll be on show, sweetheart, but us as a couple.’
‘You’re not going to call me that, are you?’
‘Call you what?’
‘Sweetheart,’ she bit out.
‘Not if you don’t like it.’
‘I don’t like it.’
‘What would you like me to call you, then?’
‘Laura.’
‘Laura it is, then. And Laura …?’
‘Yes?’
‘Try to relax a bit before tomorrow, will you? You’re way too uptight.’
‘Sorry. I can’t help it. I hate having to do this.’
‘What? Pretend that you’re in love with me?’
Laura winced. Did he have to be so baldly honest?
‘I guess,’ she said.
‘You’ve been madly in love before, haven’t you?’
‘Yes,’ she confessed reluctantly. Twice. First with Brad, and then with Mario. Finding out Brad was a selfish, greedy, amoral rat had been devastating enough. But it had been the super-charming Mario who had nearly destroyed her. Because she should have known better by then. Should have seen through his lies.
But she hadn’t.
‘Act with me the way you acted with him, then,’ Ryan suggested.
‘I could never act that way again,’ she said coldly. ‘It was pathetic.’
‘That bad, huh? Okay, just don’t freeze up if I put my arm around you or give you a little kiss occasionally. Strictly no tongues.’
‘I should hope not!’
He laughed. ‘I can see that tomorrow might be a stretch, but what the hell? We’re doing this for your gran, right?’
Laura blinked. She’d almost forgotten about her. Ever since that horrid phone call from her aunt she’d been thinking more about herself and her pride.
‘Yes,’ she said, feeling ashamed of herself. ‘Yes, of course.’ There wasn’t anything she wouldn’t do for her gran. ‘Ryan …?’
‘Mmm?’
‘You can call me sweetheart if you want to.’
He laughed. ‘That’s more like it. Now you just need to find a dress. Red would look good on you.’
‘But I don’t own a red dress.’
‘Then go buy one! You have all tomorrow morning. And some sexy shoes as well. Have to go now, Laura, someone’s trying to ring me. I’ll see you at your place tomorrow at one o’clock sharp.’
Laura opened her mouth to protest, but he’d already hung up.
Dear God, what have I done?
But he was right, she supposed. Any girlfriend of Ryan’s would dress sexily.
Laura hadn’t dressed sexily since she’d split with Mario, which was quite a few years ago now. Frankly, she wouldn’t even know where to start to find a sexy red dress.
But Alison would. Alison was right into fashion.
Laura pulled a face. If she asked Alison for help that would mean telling her what she was doing this weekend—and with whom. This would also mean confessing what she’d said to her gran when she’d been in the coma.
Alison would be hurt that she hadn’t confided in her earlier. The two girls pretty well told each other everything, had done ever since their boarding-school days together. Confessing that she’d kept a secret from her would be hard but it had to be done.
Hopefully, she wouldn’t judge her too harshly. Biting her bottom lip, she punched in Alison’s number and walked slowly into her bedroom. There she sank down on the side of the bed and waited for her best friend to answer.
Please don’t let her have gone out tonight, she prayed as the phone rang and rang.
A split second before it would have gone to her message bank, Alison’s harried voice came down the line. ‘This had better be important, Laura. You know how dreadful the children can be at this time of night.’
In truth, Laura could hear the sounds of arguing in the background. Alison had a boy of eight and a girl of six who didn’t always get along, especially when they were tired. Clearly it wasn’t the time for true confessions right at this moment.
‘Sorry,’ Laura said. ‘But I am desperate. Could you get Peter to mind the children tomorrow morning whilst you come shopping with me?’
‘Shopping for what?’
‘A dress. A sexy red dress.’
‘Bloody hell, Laura, I almost dropped the phone just then. Did I hear you correctly? Did you say you wanted to buy a sexy red dress?’
‘Yes,’ Laura admitted, knowing that she’d just opened the floodgates to Alison’s curiosity, which was second to none. ‘Could I possibly explain tomorrow?’
‘You can explain later tonight, madam, when I have time to call you back and listen to what I’m sure will be a fascinating story.’
‘All right,’ Laura said with a resigned sigh. ‘Just be gentle with me. I’m feeling a bit fragile.’
‘Rubbish! You don’t do fragile. You kids, if you don’t stop fighting I’m going to get off this phone and strangle you. Laura, I have to go kill the kids. I’ll ring you back later.’
‘Fine,’ Laura said wearily and hung up.
CHAPTER SEVEN
‘MY MIND’S still boggled by all this,’ Alison said as she put down her coffee cup.
They were sitting in a café in Centre Point Tower, having spent a good two hours since the shops opened finding the right sexy red dress, not to mention a pair of equally sexy shoes.
‘I mean, why Ryan Armstrong of all people?’ she went on disbelievingly.
‘You know why, Alison,’ Laura replied patiently. ‘He’s exactly the type of man Gran would think was a good catch.’
‘But you can’t stand him.’
‘I don’t dislike him as much as I thought I did,’ Laura admitted. How could she when he was doing this for her?
‘Ah-ha!’ Alison pounced. ‘I get it. You’ve been secretly attracted to him all along. And he to you.’
‘Please don’t start that romantic rubbish, Alison.’
‘But why else would he agree to this … This …?’
‘Charade,’ Laura finished for her. ‘I told you—he’s doing it because he has a soft spot for grandmothers.’
Alison rolled her eyes. ‘Oh, phooey! He’s probably just doing it to get into your pants. Now that I’ve had time to think about it, I can see it’s not romance he wants but sex. I keep forgetting not all men are sincere like my Peter. We both know what kind of guy Ryan Armstrong is, Laura. He’s a player, with an obsession about winning. If what you’ve told me is true, you’ve been giving him the cold shoulder ever since you got him as a client. Am I right?’
‘Yes.’
‘Men like that don’t expect women to give them the cold shoulder. They’re used to being flattered and flirted with. You’ve become a challenge, Laura. You yourself said you were surprised at his asking you out for a drink.’
And to go sailing with him, Laura suddenly recalled.
‘That was move number one,’ Alison said wryly.
‘But he has a girlfriend!’ Laura protested.
‘Who’s away in Melbourne for the weekend. My my, how convenient.’
‘It isn’t like you to be so cynical, Alison. That’s usually my bag.’
‘Yes, well, I can see that you’re in danger of being taken in by this creep. I mean, the guy asks you to buy a sexy red dress and you actually go and buy one. The Laura I know would never have done that.’
Laura sighed. ‘I’m not being taken in by him. I just don’t want to look like an old maid this weekend.’
‘Well, you sure as hell won’t look like an old maid in that red dress. And those beck-and-call-girl shoes you bought.’
‘You told me to buy them.’
‘That was before I worked out what the guy was really up to.’
‘I hate to mention this, Alison, but it takes two to tango. And I have no intention of sleeping with Ryan Armstrong, even if he wanted me to.’
Which he didn’t. But Laura could see where Alison was coming from. Her friend’s view of Ryan’s character had been tainted by what Laura had said about him in the past. If she met him, Alison would see that he wasn’t some kind of sleaze bag who couldn’t go a weekend without sex. As much as it pained Laura to admit it, he’d shown her another side yesterday, one which had both surprised and impressed her.
‘He’s just being kind,’ Laura stated firmly. ‘Now, I have to get going. Ryan’s picking me up at one. Thanks a bunch for coming with me, Alison. I would never have found that dress without you.’
‘Don’t thank me yet,’ Alison said dryly. ‘That is not any old dress. Even if he doesn’t fancy you yet, he will when he sees you in it.’
Laura worried about Alison’s last words all the way home on the ferry. It was a sexy dress. But not over-the-top sexy, she decided once she had the opportunity to have a second look at it in the privacy of her bedroom.
Of course the scarlet colour was a bit in your face. As was the wide, black patent-leather belt which was decorated with rows of silver studs. Still, the fashion world seemed to have become addicted to glamour and glitz during the last few years so it was hard to buy a cocktail dress which wasn’t shiny or didn’t have some bling on it. The same applied to shoes. The black patent high-heels Alison had talked her into buying had the same silver studs decorating the straps which ran up the front of her foot to the wide ankle strap.
Laura winced when she looked at the shoes again. Perhaps it would be wise to wear another pair of shoes, one which was less provocative, and decidedly less dominatrix-inspired. But when she rummaged through her wardrobe in search of something else Laura soon saw that there was absolutely nothing there that wouldn’t look positively dreary. After her break-up with Mario, she’d thrown away all the sexy clothes and shoes that she’d happily worn for him, replacing them with a wardrobe which wouldn’t have stirred a single hormone in any man.
Whilst Laura didn’t actually want to stir Ryan Armstrong’s hormones this weekend, she did want her family to think she was capable of doing so. If a by-product of this was that Ryan might look at her temporarily with different eyes, then so be it. She couldn’t imagine that he would actually make a pass. Why would he when he already had a girlfriend who was no doubt providing him with plenty of sex? Whilst Ryan had a reputation for trading in his girlfriends with monotonous regularity, he did not have a reputation for two-timing. As perverse as it might seem, he was well thought of around Sydney as a man of integrity.
Up until yesterday, Laura had taken that opinion of her esteemed client with a grain of salt. But, now that she’d had more to do with him, she was beginning to feel that he could be trusted, which was a very odd thing for her to think about any man, let alone a swinging-bachelor type like Ryan.
Whatever, she didn’t have time to worry about such matters right at that moment. It was getting on for twelve-thirty, leaving her only half an hour to finish getting ready then have a bite to eat before Ryan arrived. At least she was already dressed in decent clothes, even if they were just jeans and a simple white shirt. Overnight, she’d considered buying herself something else to wear for the drive up there—a skirt and sweater, perhaps. But it had taken all her time this morning to find the red dress. And, really, jeans were sensible for wearing on a country weekend.
Neither was she going to leave her hair down. She hated having it hang around her face all day; It was bad enough that she had to wear it down for dinner tonight. But she would compromise by putting it up into a ponytail which was a little more feminine than her usual style. Plus she would wear lipstick. Not red lipstick, however; the red-lipstick-wearing could wait until tonight.
Tonight …
Laura shuddered at the thought of tonight.
Then don’t think about it, Laura, she lectured herself. Thinking about it won’t help. It will only make you more nervous. The deed is done now and there’s no backing out.
Think of Gran if you have to think of anything. Think of making her happy. Think of all those good intentions you had when you first told her that Ryan Armstrong was your Mr Right.
Laura couldn’t help it, she burst out laughing. Ryan was so spot on. It really was rather funny, his being cast as her Mr Right, because if anyone was the perfect Mr Wrong for her it was him.
But her gran wouldn’t know that, Laura conceded as she began to pack. She would only see what she wanted to see, a handsome, successful, charming, mature man.
What she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.
Hopefully.
Laura groaned. Somehow she couldn’t get past the niggly feeling that this weekend wasn’t going to go exactly as planned—that before this day was out, it was going to be a colossal disaster!
CHAPTER EIGHT
RYAN glanced at the digital clock on the dash as he neared the street where Laura lived. Only a quarter to one; he was a little early. Not a good idea to be too early; he pulled over to the kerb to let a few minutes pass before proceeding.
Time ticked slowly by, during which his thoughts inevitably returned to what had happened when he’d rung Erica last night and told her his revised plans for this weekend.
Ryan shook his head at the memory of her reaction. Laura had been so right; maybe he didn’t know women as well as he thought he did. Because Erica had not been happy. Not only that, she’d been decidedly jealous!
Being on the end of jealousy was something which brought out the worst in Ryan. When Erica started accusing him of also having fancied Laura and that this was just a ploy to sleep with her, Ryan had told her in no uncertain terms that if that was what she thought then it was time they went their separate ways. After which he had hung up.
The fact that Erica subsequently sent him several grovel-ling—then abusive—text messages over the next hour had only confirmed his opinion that he’d done the right thing in breaking up with her. But the episode had bothered him all the same. He’d turned his phone off in the end, but he suspected that more messages would be there if and when he turned it back on again. Though what she had left to say he had no idea. He’d already been called every derogatory name in the dictionary from a filthy louse to a ‘something’ libertine.
He hadn’t been quite sure what a libertine was, so he’d looked it up and discovered that a libertine was a licentious and lascivious man who did as he pleased—which he thought was a bit harsh, though not entirely inaccurate. He did do as he pleased in the main. And it pleased him not to continue a relationship with a female who was hypocritical as well as foul-mouthed. It also pleased him to pretend to be Laura’s Mr Right this weekend and make an old lady’s last days happy.
The clock on the dash showed it was now twelve-fifty-three.
Time to arrive.
The house at the address Laura had given him came as a surprise. Not because it was grand, or large—it had possibly only three bedrooms. Federation cottages in good condition, however, were still worth a mint, especially when positioned high on a hill overlooking Manly Beach. He wondered if she owned it or was just renting.
It seemed an odd choice for a rental, he decided as he climbed out from behind the wheel and made his way through the front gate and up the flagged front path. The garden on either side was well tended, he noted, and the green paintwork around the front windows looked freshly done.
Not a rental, he concluded by the time he stepped up onto the ivy-covered front patio and rang the polished brass doorbell. Laura owned this lovely little house. He was sure of it.
Ryan was about to ring the bell again when the front door was swept open and Laura stood there, looking a darned sight better than she usually did. Gone was the funereal black suit; in its place were nicely fitted dark-blue jeans, black ankle-boots and a crisp white shirt with rolled-up sleeves and a turned-up collar. Her hair was swept back up into a ponytail and she’d put on some pink lipstick. All in all she looked five years younger than she had yesterday, and a good deal more fanciable.
Not that he fancied her. Not really; Erica was quite wrong about that. He would never have put himself in this position with a woman he seriously fancied. He was not that much of a fool.
‘You’re early,’ she said, almost accusingly.
Some things, Ryan realised, could not be changed as easily as appearances. She should have been grateful, not irritated. He always liked it when people were on time.
Except at three on a Friday afternoon …
Now why did he have to think of that?
Ryan shrugged in an effort to rid himself of the annoying thought that something was eluding him here. ‘Only five minutes. You’re looking good,’ he complimented her.
‘Thank you. So do you,’ she returned, if a little grudgingly.
‘We aim to please,’ he said with a smile.
She didn’t smile back, though something flickered in her eyes. He wasn’t sure what—more irritation, probably. Man, but he had his work cut out for him this weekend. It wasn’t going to be easy pretending to be in love with Miss Prickly.
‘I won’t be long,’ she said, whirling and walking quickly back down the hallway. ‘The bathroom’s in there,’ she said over her shoulder, indicating a door halfway up the hall on the right. ‘That’s if you want to go before we leave.’
‘I’m fine,’ he called back.
She was as quick as she said she would be, dragging a small black travel-case in one hand and carrying a plastic suit-cover in the other. Ryan stepped forward to take the bag, leaving her with the coat hanger.
‘I presume that’s a dress you’ve got in there,’ he said as they made their way out onto the front porch.
‘Yes,’ came her brusque reply. ‘Here. Hold it while I lock up.’
He was standing there, both hands full, when a cat suddenly curled around his right ankle, a sleek brown-coated feline who had ‘show cat’ written all over him. Until it peered up at Ryan.
‘Good God!’ he exclaimed in shock. ‘Is this your cat?’
‘What? Oh yes.’
‘He’s only got one eye!’
‘Hmm, yes,’ Laura agreed dryly. ‘I had noticed that, Ryan.’
‘What happened to him? Was he in a fight?’
‘No. He had a run-in with a car about a year ago. Didn’t you, sweetie?’ she said, her voice turning soft as she scooped the cat up into her arms. ‘Cost me a small fortune at the vet. Over three-thousand dollars.’
Ryan just stared at her. Over three-thousand dollars on a cat?
‘Yes, I know,’ she said, back to her droll tone. ‘Not what you might have expected from hard-hearted Laura.’
‘You’re certainly proving to be more sentimental than I imagined.’
‘Sorry to disappoint you.’
‘I’m not at all disappointed. You should never apologise for having a softer side, Laura. It’s what makes a woman a woman.’
‘It’s what makes fools of them,’ she retorted sharply. ‘Especially where men are concerned.’
‘I can’t see any man making a fool of you.’
‘As I said last night, Ryan, you don’t know women as well as you think you do. Which reminds me, what did your girlfriend say about your pretending to be my boyfriend for this weekend? Or didn’t you tell her?’
Ryan realised straight away that the truth would complicate things unnecessarily. Far better Laura not know how badly Erica had reacted, or that they were no longer a couple.
‘Of course I told her,’ he lied. ‘And she was fine with it.’
Laura shook her head. ‘Amazing.’ She bent down to drop the cat gently at her feet. ‘Be a good boy, Rambo, and don’t go on the road whilst I’m away.’
‘He’ll be fine being home alone?’ Ryan asked as they made their way out to the car.
‘It’s only for one night. He has plenty of food and water and his own cat slap. I’ve asked one of the neighbours to keep an eye on him as well.’
‘What breed is he?’ Ryan asked as he laid the suit-cover down on the back seat then placed the bag alongside his in the boot.
‘Abyssinian.’
‘Ah. I thought he was a pedigree cat. Have you had him long?’
She shot him one of her impatient looks. ‘What is this, twenty questions?’
Ryan decided to ignore her stroppiness. ‘I’m just collecting some basic facts about you. After all, a genuine boyfriend would know about your cat, wouldn’t he?’
Laura sighed. ‘I suppose so. In that case, his name is Rambo and he’s almost five. I bought him after I …’ She broke off abruptly, her mouth tightening.
‘After you what?’
‘After I broke up with Mario,’ she went on at last, her voice as bleak as her face.
‘I see,’ he said, wondering what exactly dear old Mario had done to turn Laura into such a man-hater. Had she caught him with another woman? Or was it the classic deceit of his having been a married man? His behaviour must have been pretty bad to devastate Laura the way it obviously had. Most women would have moved on by now. Five years ago, she’d said. Wow. Did that mean she’d gone without sex for the last five years? Ryan couldn’t imagine a life without regular sex. It was as necessary to him as eating and drinking. Still, he supposed women were different to men in that regard. At least, some obviously were.
‘Enough of the third degree for now,’ he went on, deciding to forget the awkward questions for a while. ‘So, what do you think of my car? Impressive enough for you?’
