She said quietly, ‘If you’ve changed your mind about letting me stay, I quite understand.’
‘What?’ He seemed to become aware of her for the first time. ‘God, no. I’ve something else on my mind entirely.’ He refilled the mug he was carrying from the percolator and leaned back against the counter top. He was wearing beautifully cut jeans and a plain white shirt, open at the throat, its sleeves turned back over his tanned forearms.
He said abruptly, ‘I hadn’t intended to ask so soon, but I rather need that favour I mentioned last night. It seems my stepmother is paying me a visit.’
‘And you want me to cook lunch for her?’
‘No,’ he said. ‘Just to be here. She claims she’s coming on a business matter and I need backup.’
She hesitated. ‘What do you mean exactly?’
‘I mean I’d prefer not to be alone here when she comes calling.’ His tone was blunt.
‘Oh,’ she said, as unwelcome light dawned, ‘so that’s what …’ And stopped, flushing guiltily.
‘That’s what Penny was undoubtedly about to tell you when I interrupted,’ he supplied, his face lightening into amused resignation. ‘Are there any details of my life my dear cousin has withheld? For instance, did you get a recital of my childhood ailments, including how she gave me chickenpox when I was thirteen?’
‘No—’ Tallie’s own mouth quivered into amusement ‘—but she might be saving that for another time.’ She put her used breakfast things carefully into the dishwasher. ‘So you want me to play gooseberry, is that it?’
‘Not exactly,’ he said carefully. ‘I want you to pretend that you’re my girlfriend, and that we’re sharing a damned sight more than just our living space.’
She bit her lip. ‘But surely you shouldn’t be asking me. It ought to be … Miss Randall, or someone …’
‘Actually, no.’ A sardonic note entered his voice. ‘I’ve no wish to send out misleading signals to Miss Randall—or anyone.’ He paused. ‘And as you and I have nothing going for us apart from an uneasy truce, that makes you the ideal choice.’
He looked at her. ‘So, will you do it?’
‘I … don’t know.’ She glanced down at the workaday jeans and top she was wearing. ‘I hardly look the part of anyone’s live-in lover, least of all yours.’
‘That can be fixed.’
‘And I’m not a very good actress.’
‘Pretend it’s a scene from this book of yours,’ he said casually, and Tallie bit her lip, wondering if that wasn’t a little too close for comfort.
‘Very well, then,’ she said. ‘I’ll do my best. What time is she getting here?’
‘Mid-morning, she tells me.’ His mouth twisted. ‘And, as she appears to want something, she may even be on time.’
‘Fine.’ She summoned a smile. ‘Then I can get some work done while I’m waiting.’
But an hour later she couldn’t pretend she was satisfied with what she’d produced. Even while hurling himself on the French lines, William still seemed oddly remote. Maybe he would become warmer, more human, when Mariana came back into his life, she thought, and the sooner the better.
But maybe she was just tired. She hadn’t slept very well the previous night, her mind invaded by disjointed words and images. ‘Mark, of course, is a total commitment-phobe’ … Mariana struggling in the arms of a man she hated, and, more than once, Mark’s voice asking, ‘Why don’t you … stay on here?’ And herself, fighting to find a reason and put it into words.
She was reluctantly saving what she’d written when there was a rap at her door.
‘Come in.’ She got to her feet, wondering apprehensively if she was being summoned because Veronica had arrived ahead of time.
But Mark walked in alone. ‘I’ve brought you something.’ He tossed a couple of carrier bags emblazoned with the name of a well-known department store on to her bed. ‘I hope it all fits. I’m not intimately acquainted with your measurements, so I had to guess.’
Tallie opened the first bag, extracting a deceptively simple cream skirt and a scoop-necked silky top the colour of horse chestnuts. The second held a pair of high-heeled cream sandals.
When she could find a voice, she said, ‘You bought these—for me?’
‘I hardly plan to wear them myself. I suggest you change into them now. Practise walking in those heels.’
She gasped. ‘I’ll do nothing of the kind.’ She tried to stuff everything back into the bags. ‘You have no right—no right at all … ‘
He sighed. ‘Please don’t fuss. You admitted yourself you’re not dressed for the part. Now you can be.’
She said, ‘I could live for a month on what you’ve just paid for this stuff.’
Mark shrugged. ‘Then tomorrow you can sell it on eBay,’ he returned. ‘But I suggest that you hang on to it. Wear it when you meet your publishers. You might get a better deal if they think you’re not hungry.’ He looked her over. ‘And leave your hair loose.’
She was quivering with temper. ‘Any other instructions—sir?’
‘Not at the moment, but that could change.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘I’m going to put some coffee on while you get dressed. We haven’t got all day.’
As he went to the door, she said, ‘One thing occurred to me.’ She hesitated. ‘You don’t think Kit may have told her about moving me in here? That she might recognise my name?’
‘Unlikely,’ he said. ‘Even if he did share the joke with her, your actual identity would be far too unimportant a detail to mention.’
‘Oh,’ she said with false brightness, ‘that’s all right then.’
‘No,’ he said, more gently. ‘But I’m afraid it’s as good as it gets, with that precious pair.’ He grimaced. ‘As you’re about to find out,’ he added, and went.
The new clothes, she had to admit, were becoming. Even more annoyingly, they were a perfect fit. And the sandals made her already slim legs racehorse-slender.
She found herself wondering what Mark would say when she went to join him in the sitting room, but he merely looked her over, then nodded abruptly.
And a moment later the imperious sound of the buzzer announced that their visitor had arrived.
Tallie turned to him, apprehension twisting inside her. ‘Shall I—answer the door?’
‘We’ll do it together,’ Mark said. ‘And—relax,’ he added as they walked down the passage. ‘Remember you’re not here to make a good impression.’
The woman confronting them on the doorstep was tall and stunningly attractive, with blonde hair caught back in an immaculate chignon. Her complexion was flawless, her nose short and straight, and she had enormous blue eyes fringed by curling lashes heavily enhanced by mascara. Her reed-slender figure was moulded closely by a suit in royal blue, the skirt displaying shapely legs and the short jacket revealing rather more than a hint of cleavage.
Tallie, who’d been expecting a hatchet-faced harridan, found herself almost gaping. Kit’s mother? she queried in silent incredulity. She doesn’t look old enough.
She thought of her own mother—warm, pretty and adored by her husband, but with comfortable curves, a few first touches of grey in her hair and laugh lines around