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‘Not this.’
‘You mean nothing so lavish?’
‘I guess that’s one way of putting it.’
‘Because I got a first in Engineering at Cambridge, you somehow expected me to come from a more humble background? Maybe a couple of professors for parents and Bunsen burners everywhere...?’ Knowing that she sounded defensive, she added with a wry, humorous sigh, ‘Believe me, I very firmly cracked the mould when I decided to do engineering at university and then, horror of horrors, put a career at the top of myto-dolist.’
Mateo slid a curious glance across to the woman standing next to him. In heels, she was almost as tall as him.
Well, who would have thought...?
This was not the Maude Thornton he knew.
The Maude Thornton he knew was the archetypal, be-suited, impeccably but dully clad professional who did everything to an exceptionally high standard, but with her head down and in a way that attracted no attention to herself whatsoever.
He couldn’t remember ever having had a conversation with her that hadn’t focused on work.
She was exceptionally clever, highly creative, sharp as a tack and easily the most promising of the very bright intake working at his London branch.
She was a career woman with a glittering future ahead and that that was where his observations of her had begun and ended.
Until yesterday.
Until he’d glimpsed a side to her previously hidden from casual viewing. He’d seen her unflappable, professional demeanour suddenly morph into dismay and vulnerability. When she’d told him about her brother’s party, and the fact that her plus-one had let her down, he’d glimpsed even more of that dismay and vulnerability.
And then he’d noticed a bit more.
Not just the height—that was something unavoidable. She was probably five-eleven, much taller than the small blondes he went for. No, he’d noticed the glossiness of her chestnut-brown hair scraped back into something contained. He’d noticed the blue of her eyes and the contrasting darkness of her eye lashes. He’d noticed the fullness of her mouth and he’d taken in the suggestion of ripe curves underneath the boxy skirt and loose blouse tucked into the waistband.
In the space of forty minutes, she had gone from the consummate professional—who had never, not once, roused his curiosity—to a living, breathing human being and he had responded in kind.
Why?
Mateo was at a loss to work that one out. Was it because her sudden burst of honesty had taken him off-guard and, in that fleeting moment, he had acted out of character?
Or had he, on the hoof, seen an unexpected opportunity for an arrangement that would serve both their purposes at a particular point in time? An arrangement that would cost nothing and have no consequences?
She wanted a plus-one to make an event she seemed to be dreading a little easier. He hadn’t quite understood why she was dreading whatever party was lined up, but not his to question why.
And for him?
He’d thought of the thorny problem with his ex. Cassie had turned out to be the ex from hell. He’d broken up with her over two months ago, and since then she had developed a messianic zeal to cling on to him. She’d texted...she’d phoned...she’d started showing up at his home at random times with a list of so-called forgotten items she needed to collect from his penthouse apartment.
She had the tenacity of a barnacle and, whilst Maude had been contemplating the gloomy prospect of a pre-wedding party she didn’t particularly want to attend, he had likewise been contemplating an equally gloomy scenario. Cassie had informed him that she would be popping over to get some shoes and a bracelet she needed and could he please be around to let her in.
Yes, he would. Because he felt guilty—that was the long and short of it. Guilty that he had taken his eye off the ball, guilty that he had been sucked in by a helpless fragility and a touching back story of having been bounced around between angry, divorced parents from the age of three. Not his back story, but there’d been enough misery there to match his own, and he’d fallen for it.
He’d fast discovered that her fragility had concealed a core of pure steel, but by then he’d somehow become her saviour, and she had refused to listen when he’d patiently explained that his qualifications to save anyone were sadly non-existent. He was no knight in shining armour.
Not only was it an almighty nuisance for him—and not only was it teeth-clenchingly frustrating to consider the prospect of having to set her straight in language she would be forced to understand—but he had one or two dark misgivings about whether he would be able to deter her in her desperate efforts to reignite what had turned to ashes.
He did, however, suspect that the one thing that might work would be if he were to become involved with someone else.
And over his dead body was he about to go down that road. After Cassie, a spate of celibacy felt like an extremely good idea.
But then...he’d gazed thoughtfully into blue, blue eyes and it had occurred to him that they could both do one another a favour. Truth would blend seamlessly into a tiny white lie and no one would ever be the wiser.
He would be Maude’s plus-one and he would tell Cassie that he was involved with a woman. He knew that the mere fact that he was going to a wedding party with Maude, a party where family members would be present, would have the desired effect because that sort of thing was something he had adamantly refused to do in all the time he had spent with Cassie.
