The Australian Affairs Collection. Margaret Way
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seemed to tense up and then relax in equal measure. He ducked his head to hide his smile. Mia Maydew was one conflicted lady. If she’d just let him help solve that conflict...
‘Please tell me you’re not going to dump Carla as abruptly?’
Her head shot up. ‘Of course I’m not going to dump Carla. Carla and I will be friends for as long as she wants us to be friends.’ She folded her arms and glared at him. ‘And, Dylan, I hate to point this out, but I’m not dumping you either. We were never going out to begin with. We were only pretending.’
‘I wasn’t pretending when I kissed you. And I don’t care how good an actress you are, Mia, I don’t think you were pretending either.’
She moistened her lips and swallowed. The pulse at the base of her throat fluttered like a caged thing. A ravaging hunger swept through him. If he kissed her now, here in this quiet, private place where they wouldn’t be interrupted...
‘Don’t even think about it!’
Her eyes flashed fire. So much for not showing his hand. He stared at the ground and pulled in a breath, nodding. ‘Sorry, I lost my head for a moment—let it drift to where it shouldn’t have gone.’
He shoved his shoulders back and lifted his chin.
‘Though if I’m ever fortunate enough to make love with you, Mia, it’ll be in place where I’ll have the opportunity to show you in every way I know how just how beautiful and desirable I find you. There’ll be no rush. And your comfort will be paramount.’
Her eyes grew round.
He leaned in close. ‘I’ve no inclination for a quick roll on spiky grass, where we’d be half eaten by ants and mosquitos or happened upon by unsuspecting hikers. When I make love to you, Mia, I mean for you to be fully focussed on me.’
She swallowed.
He brushed his lips across her ear. ‘And when it happens I promise that you will be.’
She leapt away from him, glancing at her watch. ‘My lunchbreak is almost up. I have to get back to work.’
He followed her to the main picnic area. It was awash with people enjoying the afternoon sun.
A question pressed against the back of his throat, but he held it in until they were fully surrounded by people. ‘Will you give me one more fake date?’
Her hands went to her hips. ‘Why?’
It would give him something to work towards. It would give him time to come up with a plan to overcome her objections to an affair.
‘I want a chance to grill Thierry in a non-confrontational way, in a place that’s not intimidating...and you did invite us all to dinner.’
Her shoulders suddenly sagged. ‘I did, didn’t I?’
She’d only done it to try and keep the peace, to try and head off his uncle’s vitriol.
‘You can cry off if you want. I can make your excuses easily enough. Nobody will mind.’ He didn’t want her looking so careworn—not on his account. ‘Cooking for guests can be stressful if you haven’t done it in a while.’ He gave an exaggerated eye-roll. ‘And I suspect I’ve stressed you out enough already.’
Her lips twitched. ‘The cooking doesn’t worry me. It’s only for four—not fourteen.’
‘What does worry you, then?’
She hesitated. ‘My house.’
He couldn’t gauge what she meant, but the way her hands twisted together caught at him. ‘What’s wrong with your house? I know it’s small, but none of us are going to care about that.’
‘It looks like a prison cell.’
He winced at her bluntness.
‘It’s bare and uninviting and...and I’m ashamed of it.’
‘You’ve no reason to be ashamed of it. It’s clean and functional. Neither Carla nor I care about things like that. And if Thierry does then he’s an idiot.’
One slim shoulder lifted. ‘I know it shouldn’t matter. It’s just... I have no talent for making things look nice.’ She stared at a copse of trees. ‘Maybe I could get a magazine or two, for tips on how to make it look a bit better.’
‘I can help you with that.’
She raised an eyebrow, but he waved her scepticism away. ‘You don’t want a complete makeover. You just want it to look a little cheerier...a bit warmer, right?’
She nodded, but the wariness didn’t leave her eyes.
‘Look, I’m not an interior designer, but I’ve had to consult on set designs for concerts and themes for parties. Seriously, we could spruce up your little cottage with nothing more than a few accessories. I swear you’ll be amazed at how easy it is.’
She didn’t say anything.
‘What’s your budget?’ he asked, so she’d know he wasn’t offering to pay for anything, that he wasn’t trying to bribe her.
She named a sum that, while small, would easily cover what she needed.
He rubbed his hands together. ‘We can work with that.’
Her eyes narrowed. She folded her arms, her fingers drumming against her upper arms. ‘What on earth do you know about budgets?’
It was a fair question. ‘I had a crash course when I started up my company. And I’m given a budget from my clients for every event I take on. If I want to make money I have to stick to it.’
She glanced down at her hands. ‘I’m sorry—that was ungracious. Of course you—’
‘I’m a trust fund baby, Mia. If I chose I could live in the lap of luxury for the rest of my life without having to lift a finger. You’re not the first person to question my credentials.’
She stared up at him, a frown in her eyes. ‘You haven’t chosen to live that way, though.’
He shrugged. ‘I wanted something more. I wanted to create something of my own. Besides, the family tradition is not to sit idly back and rest on one’s laurels. And as neither law nor politics interested me...’
‘You decided to forge your own path?’
‘And—as you so succinctly reminded me last Saturday night—I should be proud of that. And I am.’
She nodded.
‘So, in return, will you let me help you decorate your cottage? We might not be dating for real, but there’s no rule that says we can’t be friends, is there?’
She chewed her lip.
Dylan’s heart dipped. ‘Is there?’
‘I...’
She moistened her lips and a sudden thirst welled inside him.
‘I’ve largely kept to myself since...over the last eleven months.’
Would she ever confide the hows and the whys that had landed her in prison? He could search out police reports, court records—and he had no doubt that Thierry had done exactly that—but he didn’t want to. He wanted Mia to tell him herself. It was obvious she regretted her crime. And she’d paid her debt to society. But her past still haunted her.
His heart surged against his ribs. ‘Do you resent my and Carla’s intrusion into your life?’
‘No. I... I’d forgotten how nice it is to have friends.’
As those words sank in his mouth dried. ‘I’m honoured to be your friend, Mia.’ He swallowed. ‘Carla would say the same if she were here. Neither of us take our friends for granted.’
‘I know. It