‘Such a sincere and charming woman,’ he agreed. ‘And there’s no such thing as free PR. Two?’
‘Two,’ she said, playing for time while she recalled her train of thought. Oh, yes…‘Since Health and Safety rules cover everyone—even the boss—it seems that, like it or not, we’re stuck with one another. Control freaks united.’
‘And three?’ he enquired hopefully.
‘There’s no three.’
‘Pity. I liked the way that was going.’
‘Okay, here’s three,’ she said, finally breaking the connection, letting go of his hand and sitting up. ‘You’ve got a reprieve from the office floor, but I haven’t yet decided whether or not you’re going to sleep on this one.’ Then, as he pushed himself up so that he was leaning against the timber wall, ‘Well,’ she said, ‘didn’t you make a fast recovery once you got your own way.’
‘I didn’t say I couldn’t move. I just didn’t want to take a chance on it going again and knocking myself out on the wardrobe door.’
‘Just left it for me to walk into,’ she said, getting up and crossing to the wardrobe, picking out a change of clothes. ‘So you really will be leaving in the morning? I’ll be happy to pack for you,’ she offered quickly, afraid her voice might have betrayed the little flicker of disappointment that had shimmered through her at the thought of him leaving. ‘Just in case your back decides it would rather stay here.’
‘What about the wedding?’
She glanced back at him. He had that delicious rumpled look that only men could pull off without having to spend hours in front of a mirror getting it just right. Too tempting.
‘If the donation was big enough, I’m sure Cryssie would forgive you. Didn’t you say something about having to be in Patagonia?’
‘Did I?’ He shook his head. ‘My deputy has gone in my place.’
‘But you’re a control freak. Won’t leaving something that important to a deputy cause you serious stress?’
Gideon hadn’t given Patagonia a thought since Josie Fowler had waltzed onto his deck wearing nothing but a bathrobe that morning. He’d been having far too much fun teasing her, enjoying the fact that she gave as good as she got, but as she closed the wardrobe door he saw the white full length dress cover hanging over the wardrobe door.
‘What the hell is that?’ he demanded, all desire to tease draining away at the shock of seeing it here, in his room.
‘It’s Cryssie’s dress.’
‘Obviously. What’s it doing here?’
‘We’ve got a photo shoot in the bridal suite tomorrow,’ she reminded him. ‘Exquisite gossamer-draped bed, candles, rose petals, fabulous PR for Leopard Tree Lodge and—’
‘I don’t want it in here,’ he said, on his feet before he had even thought about it.
‘Gideon!’ She put out a hand as if to support him.
‘I’m fine!’ he said, brushing her away.
She didn’t back off, but stayed where she was for a long moment. Only when she was sure that he wasn’t going to collapse did she finally let her hand drop, take a step back.
‘It’s not only the photo shoot,’ she said, shaken by his reaction, anxious to make him understand. ‘Tal will be arriving tomorrow afternoon.’
‘So?’
‘Well, it’s obvious. He can’t see it before the big day. It would be unlucky.’ Unlucky…
The word shivered through him and he put his hand flat on the wall, not because of his back but because his legs, having taken him up like a rocket, were now regretting it.
‘It’s not staying in here,’ he said stubbornly.
‘This is my room, Gideon,’ she returned with equal determination. ‘Your decision, remember? And that dress is my responsibility. It’s not leaving here until I take it to Cryssie on her wedding day, along with a needle and thread to put the last stitch in the hem, just as I do for all my brides.’
‘Tradition, superstition, it’s a load of damned nonsense,’ he said furiously. ‘What about the tradition that he doesn’t see her before the wedding? They’re sleeping together, for heaven’s sake.’
‘That’s on the day of the wedding, Gideon. And he won’t. Her chief bridesmaid will spend the night before the wedding with Cryssie and Tal is going to bunk down with his best man…’ Her voice trailed off and she groaned as she realised that plan had flown out of the window when the number one bridesmaid had switched partners.
‘Problem?’ he asked.
‘Just another challenge for Mr Fix-it,’ she replied sharply. Then, her face softening in concern, ‘Maybe you should sit down before you try, though. You look a bit shaky.’
‘I’m okay,’ he said and, pushing himself off, he made it unaided as far as the sofa before the bell rang again. He remained on his feet, helping himself to the whisky from the tray Francis was carrying, downing it in one.
‘Rra!’
‘Sorry,’ he said, replacing it on the tray. ‘Wrong glass. You’d better bring another one.’
‘That won’t be necessary,’ Josie said quickly.
‘Bring one,’ he repeated angrily. He wasn’t used to having his orders countermanded. ‘What’s special on the menu tonight? Something tasty for Miss Fowler, I hope?’ he continued, not because he was hungry, but because he wanted to annoy her. Wanted her gone…
‘Chef is recommending a tagine of lamb, Rra.’
‘What do you say, Josie?’ he said, turning to look at her. ‘Do you fancy that?’
‘Don’t worry about me, Francis,’ she said, ignoring him. ‘I’ll get a drink in the bar if I want one. And I’ll be eating in the dining room, too. Just bring Mr McGrath whatever Chef’s prepared for him.’
‘You can tell Chef that—’
‘Gideon!’
He lowered himself carefully onto the sofa and said, ‘You can tell Chef that I am sorry he’s been put to such inconvenience, Francis.’
‘He is happy to do it for you, Mr Gideon. We all want you to be better. My wife is hoping that she can welcome you to our home very soon. She wishes to thank you for the books.’
‘I won’t go without visiting her,’ he promised.
‘You bring his wife books?’ Josie asked when Francis had gone.
‘For their children.’ Then, before she could make something of that, ‘So, you’re abandoning me for the delights of the dining room?’
‘You don’t want my company, you just want my lamb,’ she replied. ‘I’m sure whatever the chef makes for you will be delicious.’
‘Low-fat girl food,’ he retaliated. ‘The chilli didn’t do me any harm. Quite the reverse. I was on the mend until you decided to kick me out.’
Until she’d turned up with a wedding dress.
‘I’m not keeping you here,’ she reminded him. ‘And, since you seem to be mobile, there’s no reason for you to stay.’
‘Who’s your date?’ he asked, ignoring her blatant invitation to remove himself.
‘Now you’re on your feet you can come to the dining room and find out,’ she said sharply, taking her tone from him. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, since I’ve been working, I’m going