Not that he fancied her. Not really; Erica was quite wrong about that. He would never have put himself in this position with a woman he seriously fancied. He was not that much of a fool.
‘You’re early,’ she said, almost accusingly.
Some things, Ryan realised, could not be changed as easily as appearances. She should have been grateful, not irritated. He always liked it when people were on time.
Except at three on a Friday afternoon …
Now why did he have to think of that?
Ryan shrugged in an effort to rid himself of the annoying thought that something was eluding him here. ‘Only five minutes. You’re looking good,’ he complimented her.
‘Thank you. So do you,’ she returned, if a little grudgingly.
‘We aim to please,’ he said with a smile.
She didn’t smile back, though something flickered in her eyes. He wasn’t sure what—more irritation, probably. Man, but he had his work cut out for him this weekend. It wasn’t going to be easy pretending to be in love with Miss Prickly.
‘I won’t be long,’ she said, whirling and walking quickly back down the hallway. ‘The bathroom’s in there,’ she said over her shoulder, indicating a door halfway up the hall on the right. ‘That’s if you want to go before we leave.’
‘I’m fine,’ he called back.
She was as quick as she said she would be, dragging a small black travel-case in one hand and carrying a plastic suit-cover in the other. Ryan stepped forward to take the bag, leaving her with the coat hanger.
‘I presume that’s a dress you’ve got in there,’ he said as they made their way out onto the front porch.
‘Yes,’ came her brusque reply. ‘Here. Hold it while I lock up.’
He was standing there, both hands full, when a cat suddenly curled around his right ankle, a sleek brown-coated feline who had ‘show cat’ written all over him. Until it peered up at Ryan.
‘Good God!’ he exclaimed in shock. ‘Is this your cat?’
‘What? Oh yes.’
‘He’s only got one eye!’
‘Hmm, yes,’ Laura agreed dryly. ‘I had noticed that, Ryan.’
‘What happened to him? Was he in a fight?’
‘No. He had a run-in with a car about a year ago. Didn’t you, sweetie?’ she said, her voice turning soft as she scooped the cat up into her arms. ‘Cost me a small fortune at the vet. Over three-thousand dollars.’
Ryan just stared at her. Over three-thousand dollars on a cat?
‘Yes, I know,’ she said, back to her droll tone. ‘Not what you might have expected from hard-hearted Laura.’
‘You’re certainly proving to be more sentimental than I imagined.’
‘Sorry to disappoint you.’
‘I’m not at all disappointed. You should never apologise for having a softer side, Laura. It’s what makes a woman a woman.’
‘It’s what makes fools of them,’ she retorted sharply. ‘Especially where men are concerned.’
‘I can’t see any man making a fool of you.’
‘As I said last night, Ryan, you don’t know women as well as you think you do. Which reminds me, what did your girlfriend say about your pretending to be my boyfriend for this weekend? Or didn’t you tell her?’
Ryan realised straight away that the truth would complicate things unnecessarily. Far better Laura not know how badly Erica had reacted, or that they were no longer a couple.
‘Of course I told her,’ he lied. ‘And she was fine with it.’
Laura shook her head. ‘Amazing.’ She bent down to drop the cat gently at her feet. ‘Be a good boy, Rambo, and don’t go on the road whilst I’m away.’
‘He’ll be fine being home alone?’ Ryan asked as they made their way out to the car.
‘It’s only for one night. He has plenty of food and water and his own cat slap. I’ve asked one of the neighbours to keep an eye on him as well.’
‘What breed is he?’ Ryan asked as he laid the suit-cover down on the back seat then placed the bag alongside his in the boot.
‘Abyssinian.’
‘Ah. I thought he was a pedigree cat. Have you had him long?’
She shot him one of her impatient looks. ‘What is this, twenty questions?’
Ryan decided to ignore her stroppiness. ‘I’m just collecting some basic facts about you. After all, a genuine boyfriend would know about your cat, wouldn’t he?’
Laura sighed. ‘I suppose so. In that case, his name is Rambo and he’s almost five. I bought him after I …’ She broke off abruptly, her mouth tightening.
‘After you what?’
‘After I broke up with Mario,’ she went on at last, her voice as bleak as her face.
‘I see,’ he said, wondering what exactly dear old Mario had done to turn Laura into such a man-hater. Had she caught him with another woman? Or was it the classic deceit of his having been a married man? His behaviour must have been pretty bad to devastate Laura the way it obviously had. Most women would have moved on by now. Five years ago, she’d said. Wow. Did that mean she’d gone without sex for the last five years? Ryan couldn’t imagine a life without regular sex. It was as necessary to him as eating and drinking. Still, he supposed women were different to men in that regard. At least, some obviously were.
‘Enough of the third degree for now,’ he went on, deciding to forget the awkward questions for a while. ‘So, what do you think of my car? Impressive enough for you?’
LAURA looked at the car and wished that she didn’t find being in Ryan’s company such a struggle. But from the moment she’d opened the door to him, she’d been thrown off-kilter.
She’d thought she was used to his good looks. After all, she’d seen him every Friday for two years and had never been rendered weak at the knees. But that was exactly how she’d felt a few minutes ago.
Perhaps it was the way he was dressed—all in black. Black jeans, black T-shirt and a black leather jacket. It was not the kind bikers wore but a softer, sleeker kind of jacket. It still gave him a distinctly macho edge. In it, he looked not just handsome but drop-dead gorgeous.
It had taken all of her composure not to stare. But she’d been rattled all the same, even more rattled when he had smiled and said how good she looked.
Thankfully, she hadn’t done anything humiliating like blush. Unfortunately, however, she’d become defensive and uptight and, yes, downright bitchy. Which was the last thing she wanted to be with him today. If she was going to convince Gran and the rest of the family that Ryan was her real boyfriend, she’d have to stop being her usual sarcastic self and start being nice. Seriously nice.
To compliment his car would be a good idea, but she refused to gush. Gushing was going way too far.
‘It’s very nice,’ she said. ‘I like the dark-blue colour.’
‘Get in,’ he said, coming round to open the passenger door for her.
She did so, sighing with undeniable pleasure as she sank into the soft, cream leather seats.
‘Comfy?’ he asked.
‘Very,’