In the Australian's Bed: The Passion Price / The Australian's Convenient Bride / The Australian's Marriage Demand. Miranda Lee
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no doubting she liked sex. After his initially thinking she was pretty inexperienced in bed, she’d turned into a veritable tiger.
Once his mind took that tack, the worry started up that she hadn’t been totally truthful over what she was up to this coming Saturday. To put aside a whole day to tell any man she was breaking up with him seemed excessively kind.
Maybe she’s not going to break up with him at all, a dark voice whispered in his head. Maybe she’s going to spend the whole day at Alex’s place, in Alex’s bed. And then come on to his bed for the rest of the weekend.
The idea revolted him. But it was possible, wasn’t it? She had a very high sex drive. But was she capable of that level of deception?
He wouldn’t have thought so. Still, his buying that huge diamond engagement ring yesterday afternoon now struck him as being ridiculously premature. Amazing the things a man in love would do! Fools did rush in, as the saying went.
The buzzing on Jake’s cellphone had him sitting up abruptly, his banana smoothie slurping back and forth in its cardboard carton. Setting the drink down, he fished his phone out of his trouser pocket, clicked it on and swept it up to his ear.
‘Yes?’
‘Sally here, Jake. Sorry to bother you, but if you’ve finished your lunch perhaps you should get back here. You have a visitor.’
‘A visitor. What kind of visitor?’
‘A young man. Name of Alex.’
Alex! Jake didn’t have any colleagues or acquaintances named Alex, so presumably this had to be the Alex.
Jake frowned over Sally calling him young. Of course, Sally thought anyone under forty was young, but it sounded as though Angelina’s Alex was what was commonly called a ‘younger’ man.
Jake tried to ignore the instant stab of jealousy and focus on what the fool was doing, showing up at his office.
All he could think of was that Angelina had changed her mind and broken up with Alex over the phone, plus told him the identity of the guy she’d thrown him over for.
Jake groaned. As much as he was happy to find that his paranoid thoughts about Angelina two-timing him were just that…paranoid, the last thing he wanted was a confrontation with a furious ex boyfriend.
‘I gather you know who I’m talking about,’ Sally said.
‘Possibly. Does my visitor have a second name?’
‘Mastroianni,’ Sally supplied.
‘Mastroianni!’ he repeated, totally taken aback.
And then the penny dropped. Alex was some kind of relative. Angelina had said he was half-Italian. Maybe that was what she’d meant about her relationship with him being complicated. If he was a cousin or something, she would have to explain things more fully. She couldn’t just dump the guy without giving him a reason.
‘I think you should get back here, Jake. This is something you have to attend to personally, by the look of things.’
‘OK,’ Jake said with a sigh. ‘Tell him I’ll be there shortly.’
The offices of Keats, Marsden and Johnson were spacious and classy, occupying half of the tenth floor of the building Jake had pointed out to Angelina the previous Sunday. Their main reception area was set directly opposite the lift well, behind a solid glass wall and two equally solid glass doors. Sally reigned over the reception desk and the waiting room, and had done so for many years. Although not unattractive for her age—she had turned fifty last month—Sally was the exception to the rule that highly visible Sydney receptionists should be curvy blondes with seductive smiles.
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