‘Well, as I had no idea of the dinner until Toby told me about it, I could hardly have been the one to do the asking,’ Patrick reasoned lightly.
As if he would have asked her anyway; it was obvious he had only agreed to the suggestion now for Toby’s sake.
‘Look, Toby meant well,’ Patrick insisted when he could see she was about to protest once again. ‘He’s—just concerned for your happiness,’ he added evenly.
‘But he has no reason to be,’ she protested. ‘I’m twenty-seven, not twelve.’
His mouth quirked into a teasing smile. ‘I don’t think anyone is disputing your maturity, Ellie,’ he murmured tauntingly.
So he did remember that afternoon in the garden as well as she did!
‘If anything,’ he continued frowningly, ‘it’s the opposite, I think.’
Now it was Ellie’s turn to frown. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Nothing,’ he dismissed abruptly, standing up. ‘And if you’re absolutely sure about not needing an escort next Friday…?’
‘I’m sure,’ she said firmly.
Much as she would have enjoyed sweeping into the restaurant on the arm of this attractive and successful man, if only to see the stunned look on Gareth’s face, she knew that she really couldn’t do it under these circumstances.
‘It isn’t that I’m not grateful.’ She grimaced.
‘Just thanks but no thanks?’ Patrick mused.
‘Yes,’ she sighed.
He nodded. ‘Then I’m obviously wasting our time,’ he added briskly. ‘I trust you’ll explain the situation to Toby when he comes down? Tell him that at least I tried, hmm?’
‘The coffee…’ she reminded him lamely, belatedly realizing she had made no effort to offer to pour him a cup.
He smiled humourlessly. ‘We both know that was just a ploy to keep Toby busy while the two of us talked.’
‘Yes.’ Ellie sighed again, moving to accompany him from the room.
Patrick paused in the open doorway. ‘Don’t be too hard on Toby, hmm?’ he encouraged softly. ‘He feels a certain—responsibility where your happiness is concerned.’
‘I’ll try to bear that in mind,’ she assured him dryly.
‘Ellie…?’
She looked up, her breath catching in her throat as she found herself the focus of Patrick’s McGrath’s enigmatic grey gaze.
He really was the most gorgeous-looking man, she acknowledged weakly. All six foot two inches of him!
‘You know where I am if you should change your mind…’ he told her pointedly.
Yes, he was gorgeous, and there was no doubt that having him as her escort would have salvaged her damaged pride—just as there was no doubt she had no intention of taking him up on his offer!
‘I won’t,’ she assured him with finality.
How could Ellie have known, how could she possibly have guessed, that something disastrous would occur during the following week—something that would necessitate her not only changing her mind, but having to go to Patrick McGrath herself and ask him if he would consider coming to the company dinner with her after all?
‘HOW do I look?’ She grimaced at Toby questioningly as she entered the kitchen where her brother sat eating the dinner she had prepared for him before getting ready for her evening out.
‘You look great,’ he assured her enthusiastically. ‘New dress?’ he observed teasingly.
Of course it was a new dress; she couldn’t go out with Patrick McGrath wearing the old trusty little-black-dress that she had worn to last year’s company Christmas dinner. No, as Patrick’s dinner date she wanted to wear something much more stylish. And noticeable.
She had known as soon as she saw the knee-length figure-hugging red dress in the shop that it would ensure, once and for all, that Gareth was no longer under any misapprehension concerning her having fully got over him. Especially with Patrick McGrath as her dinner partner!
‘Do you like it?’ she asked her brother uncertainly.
Trying the dress on in the shop and actually putting it on at home were two different things, she had realised a few minutes ago. Seen in this homely setting, the dress was much more revealing than anything Ellie had ever worn before, clinging to her slenderness in a bright red swathe, the low neckline and sleeveless style showing arms and throat still lightly tanned from her holiday in the summer.
Her hair was swept up loosely from the slenderness of her neck and secured with two gold combs. The change in hairstyle seemed to enlarge her eyes and the dark sweep of her lashes. Blusher highlighted her cheeks, and the bright red gloss on her lips was the same colour as the dress.
Ellie had noted all of this in her bedroom mirror a few minutes ago, sweeping out of the room and down the stairs before she had time for second thoughts and settled for the familiar black dress after all.
‘You look wonderful, sis,’ Toby told her, sitting back to look at her admiringly. ‘You’re going to knock him off his feet!’
She frowned. ‘Toby, the idea isn’t for me to attract Patrick McGrath—’
‘I was referring to Gareth,’ he murmured pointedly.
‘Oh…Gareth,’ she acknowledged weakly, feeling the colour warming her cheeks at her mistake. In all honesty she had totally forgotten about Gareth as she prepared for her evening out. Which was ridiculous when he was the reason she had gone to all this trouble in the first place.
The reason she had swallowed her pride and gone to Patrick, and told him she had changed her mind after all!
To give the man his due, he hadn’t batted an eyelid when she had turned up at his office three days ago—without an appointment—and asked him if he was still agreeable to going out with her on Friday evening.
She had acted instinctively, knowing that if she gave herself time to think about whether or not she should go and see him she would change her mind. Although she had been a little thrown by his opening comment!
‘I’ve been expecting you.’ He put his gold pen down on top of the papers on his desk before smiling across at her as she stood just inside his office, his secretary having closed the door behind her as she left.
‘You have?’ Ellie frowned; how could he possibly have been expecting her when until half an hour ago she hadn’t expected to be here herself?
‘Call it a hunch.’ He nodded. ‘You can sit down, you know, Ellie,’ he added mockingly. ‘There’s no charge!’
He seemed different today, Ellie realized, more the thirty-eight-year-old successful businessman that he was. He was dressed formally too, in a dark grey suit with a white silk shirt, a light grey tie knotted meticulously at his throat.
She made no move to sit in the chair he indicated, knowing that she had made a mistake in coming here today, that she should have taken the time to think after all, that—
‘I still have Friday evening free, if you’re interested,’ he told her huskily.
Her eyes widened. ‘You do?’
He nodded. ‘Are you interested?’
She swallowed hard, wishing she