The Man Every Woman Wants. Miranda Lee
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gone on to be a success in life. She was the one who had first taken him to soccer—even though he was a little old at thirteen to take up the sport, which was why he ended up a goalkeeper. And she was the one who had made him believe that he could put the past behind him and become anything he wanted to be.
‘I’ve always regretted that she died before I could give her all the good things she deserved in life,’ he added. More than regret—remorse was more like it. He hadn’t realised until she was gone just how much she’d done for him, and how much she meant to him. He’d cried buckets when he found out she’d died, though not in front of any of his teammates. He’d been a very selfish twenty-two at the time and had just been signed to his first contract with a premier league English team. He hadn’t returned to Australia for his grandmother’s funeral, another deep regret.
He’d been touched by Laura sitting with her grandmother all night, not wanting to leave her to die alone. Clearly, the old lady meant a lot to her.
‘It’s obvious that you’re very close to your grandmother,’ he said.
‘I am,’ Laura said, her voice sounding a little choked up. ‘She raised me after my parents were killed in a plane crash.’
‘I see …’ And he did see. His grandmother had raised him after his own mother had died.
Damn it all, but he didn’t want to think about that!
‘So what do you say to my suggestion?’ he asked, not feeling quite so amused any more. But it was too late to retract his offer.
Laura’s expressive eyes showed considerable reserve. ‘I have to confess that I’m tempted. But I’m not sure we could bring it off—pretending to be lovers, that is. I mean, we don’t even like each other.’
‘True,’ he said bluntly.
‘You don’t have to agree with me so readily,’ she snapped. ‘What is it, exactly, that you don’t like about me?’
He smiled. ‘You don’t really want me to tell you that, do you?’
‘I certainly do.’
‘Okay, you asked for it. First there’s your appearance.’
‘There’s nothing wrong with my appearance!’
Ryan raised an eyebrow sardonically and infuriatingly she felt herself blush. He continued, ‘Then there’s your manner.’
‘What’s wrong with my manner?’
‘Well, “ice queen” would be an understatement. Of course,’ he went on, unbowed in the face of her outrage, ‘If I could persuade you to let your hair down in more ways than one, then it’d be a breeze. Do you think you could do that?’
‘I’m not going to tart myself up for the likes of you, Ryan Armstrong,’ Laura pronounced huffily.
‘And there we have the main reason that I don’t like you: because you don’t like me.’
‘No,’ she bit out. ‘I don’t.’
‘Why not?’
‘You don’t really want me to tell you that, do you?’
He chuckled. She might not have an imagination but she did have a sharp wit. ‘Actually, I’m not so sure that I don’t like you,’ he said. ‘You are very amusing company.’
She made no comment, just gave him another of her dry looks.
‘Do you have a boyfriend, Laura?’ he asked abruptly.
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ she retorted. ‘If I had a boyfriend do you think I would be in this damned awful predicament?’
‘Having a boyfriend does not equate with your finding Mr Right. But let me rephrase that—are you sleeping with anyone at the moment?’
Her eyes grew even colder, if that were possible.
‘I’m between boyfriends at the moment,’ she said tartly.
‘Ah.’
‘And what does that mean?’ she demanded to know.
‘Ah just means ah.’
‘I very much doubt that. You think I’m not capable of getting a boyfriend, don’t you? You think I’m too cold.’
Wow, he thought, how right you are. But rather fascinatingly frosty. What he wouldn’t give to have the chance to melt some of that ice. Unfortunately, a man could get frostbite trying.
He’d have to watch himself with her this weekend.
‘What I think,’ he said after careful consideration, ‘Is that you’ve been hurt by some man in your past which has given you a jaundiced view of the male sex.’
The slight widening of her eyes showed him he was on the right track with his analysis of her character.
‘Lots of attractive women who’ve been badly treated by men subconsciously do things to make themselves less attractive so that they won’t be hit on. Some change their appearance by putting on weight. Some dress in a manner which hides their femininity. Which I think—’
The sound of his phone ringing interrupted his spiel.
‘Excuse me,’ he said to Laura as he fished the phone out of his jacket pocket and glanced at the identity of the caller.
Damn. It was Erica.
CHAPTER FOUR
LAURA welcomed the interruption. Ryan’s interpretation of her character was too close to the bone for her liking. Because of course he was right. Subconsciously, she knew why she dressed the way she did and acted the way she did. But no man had said as much to her out loud before.
She didn’t like it. It made her feel vulnerable and weak. A coward, even. Yet she wasn’t a coward—was she?
The thought tormented her. Alison was always saying that she should give the male sex another chance. But then what would Alison know? She was married to a great guy who was loving and loyal and would never hurt her. She’d never known what it felt like to have one’s heart ripped out, not just by one man, but two. Laura knew she couldn’t afford to open herself to hurt of that kind ever again because if she did, and disaster struck a third time, she suspected she would not survive.
Admittedly, sometimes she was very lonely. Sometimes, she wished her life had been different; if only she’d found someone decent when she’d been younger and still full of hope. Life’s experiences, however, had finally turned her into a hard-hearted cynic, but quite a good judge of character. Nowadays, when she met an attractive man, she quickly saw through his looks to the man beneath.
She knew exactly what sort of man Ryan Armstrong was: the sort who would break a girl’s heart and never lose a moment’s sleep over it.
But he was not totally bad, she accepted as she glanced over the rim of her glass at him. Clearly he was capable of kindness.
‘Hi,’ he said into his phone. ‘How’s things going?’
He’d turned his body away from the table to answer the phone but Laura could still hear him clearly enough. The bar was beginning to fill up but the noise wasn’t too bad, and the music hadn’t yet started.
‘That boring, huh?’ he went on. ‘No, I’m down at the Opera Bar having a drink with a friend from work.’
Laura frowned, knowing instantly that Ryan was being evasive to whomever he was talking to on the phone. His girlfriend, perhaps? He was sure to have one. He always had some girl on tap from what she’d heard. She’d forgotten about that when he’d offered to pretend to be her Mr Right this weekend.
What on earth did he plan to tell the girlfriend if she agreed to his suggestion? Laura couldn’t imagine any female enjoying their boyfriend pretending