Page 48 of Do Opposites Attract?

Frederick took her hand and raised it to his lips. ‘Wow. When Melanie told me she wanted to introduce me to the most beautiful girl in the room, she wasn’t joking.’

Light-headed from champagne, her heart and ego bruised, Brianna beamed at his compliment. Maybe Melanie was right. Frederick was just the tonic she needed. ‘Pleased to meet you, too.’

They talked, they danced, they flirted. It turned out that Frederick lived in London too, and was currently contemplating dabbling in politics. He knew many of the people she knew, so many it was a wonder they hadn’t met before. They compared favourite haunts, agreeing that Mahiki was the best place for a champagne cocktail. They discussed countries they’d holidayed in, the finest mountains to ski down, and the most perfectbeaches. It was the easy conversation of two people from similar backgrounds. When the band played a slow waltz, it seemed natural that they walked back onto the dance floor, gliding across it like two seasoned professionals.

Brianna kept telling herself this was much more like it. Even if he could, which she doubted, Mitch would never have waltzed with her. He’d have hung at the back of the room, brooding. She hadn’t discussed ski slopes or night clubs with him, but she knew he wouldn’t have an opinion on either. Perhaps her mother was right. Mitch had been something different. A passing fancy, but nothing lasting.

‘Will you come out onto the veranda and look at the stars with me, Brianna?’ Frederick whispered into her ear.

How charming, how romantic.And how unlike anything Mitch would ever say to her.Brianna smiled brightly and allowed herself to be led outside. Once there, in a slick move, Frederick twirled her gracefully into his arms.

‘That dress has been driving me crazy all night. You have been driving me crazy all night. Do you mind if I kiss you?’

Brianna looked into the deep blue eyes of the handsome Frederick. Before she’d visited the Medic SOS camp, before she’d met Mitch, this was exactly the type of evening she would have craved, and Frederick exactly the type of man.

But not now. Something had changed inside her. Even as his lips descended onto hers, she knew she wouldn’t feel the jolt of desire she should, that she wanted to. Her mind was with another man. One who kissed without asking, who was rough, not gentle. Passionate, not sensitive. Strong and proud, but not rich. She wanted to forget him, to lose her mind in the moment, but she couldn’t.

Damn Mitch McBride. Even when he wasn’t with her, he was invading her senses. He’d not only ruined her weekend, it seemed he’d ruined her taste for other men.

Angry with herself, Brianna drew away. ‘I’m sorry, Frederick. It’s been a wonderful evening and you have been a charming escort, but I’m afraid I can’t do this.’ Placing a kiss on Frederick’s cheek, she started to move away.

He stopped her with a gentle hand on her elbow, giving her an ironic smile. ‘Just my luck. I meet a beautiful woman, but she doesn’t share the attraction.’

‘No, it isn’t that,’ Brianna replied sadly. ‘Believe me, you’re every woman’s dream man. Handsome, charming and a true gentleman. It’s just that . . . there is someone else. He couldn’t be here tonight, but it hasn’t stopped him being in my thoughts. I’m sorry.’

She left him standing on the veranda and went to find her bedroom. The party was over for her. It seemed nothing in her life would ever be quite the same again.

Chapter Twenty-Two

The first few days in the Philippines had been sheer hell, but then Mitch had expected that. They always were, with any new disaster. The chaos, the numbers of casualties, the basic equipment and supplies they had to work with until they could get their hands on more. His small team were groaning under the workload, made especially difficult as the airport runway had been damaged just after their arrival, delaying the other aid agencies. They had put in monster days and regularly interrupted nights. Now, thankfully, the airport had re-opened and things were easing.For the first time in over seventy-two hours, Mitch returned to his tent anticipating a solid night’s sleep.

That was when he saw a package on his desk. At first he didn’t think much of it. Sometimes he would receive samples, or specialist medicines that way. But he did a double take when he saw the handwriting. He could remember seeing writing like that on a newspaper crossword at his house, following a lazy Sunday morning. What in blazes was Brianna sending him?

He tore open the parcel and sat down on the bed to explore the contents. The laugh he let rip when the toy giraffe tumbled onto his lap was long and heartfelt. It seemed like an eternity since he’d last had anything to laugh about. With a sense of anticipation, he sat back on the bed and began to read the letter.

Dear Mitch,

I missed you Saturday night at the party. I wore a slinky red dress, one I’d bought especially for you. I’d wanted to blow your mind. It had a plunging neckline, daring low back, and clung to the rest of my body like a silk wetsuit. Is this description turning youon, making you feel uncomfortable? I hope so. It’s my way of paying you back for what you said before you left. I was disappointed you had to go, that’s all. A girl is entitled to be disappointed if the man she’s grown to care for has to leave her for several weeks. You had no right to talk about ending our relationship and then leaving before I had a chance to tell you how I feel.

Anyway, the dress really worked on Frederick. Did I tell you about him? He’s the Earl’s son Melanie is determined to fix me up with. Frederick couldn’t keep his eyes off me. Or his hands, for that matter. Oh, and did I mention he’s tall, dark and handsome? Does this bother you at all? If it doesn’t, if you’re reading this and not feeling a damned thing, then you’re right. We should call this relationship — oh, sorry, you hate that word, don’t you? The great loner Mitch McBride couldn’t possibly get involved in something as serious as a relationship, could he? So let me re-word that part. If you’re not upset at the thought of Frederick running his hands over my silk-covered body, then you’re right, we should call this ‘thing’ between us over. On the other hand, if you are feeling the slightest stab of jealousy over Frederick kissing me on the veranda in the moonlight, then you should read on.

You see, you’ve been honest with me, so it is only fair I’m honest with you in return. I think I’m falling in love with you, Mitch. Yes, I knowit wasn’t what we agreed, but I’m not going to apologise for my feelings. It’s happening and we’re both going to have to deal with it.

I hope you’re looking after yourself. I hope you’re finding some time to sleep, some time to relax. I don’t expect a letter back. You’ve already told me you aren’t a hearts and flowers man, so I can’t imagine you’re a letter writer, either. I wrote this as much for me, as for you. At least, while I’m writing it, I feel close to you.

I’m enclosing Sam, my cuddly giraffe. He will keep an eye on you while I can’t. I am going to imagine you putting him into your bed, cuddling him at night, thinking of me. Of course I know in reality you’ll shove him straight into your holdall. But I can dream.

Yours, Brianna xxxx

He experienced the whole gamut of emotions as his eyes pored over her stylish letters. Lust and a stab of raging jealousy came first, quickly followed by anger when he read her words of love. He ended on a smile, looking back at the giraffe and wondering what, exactly,washe going to do with it?

Overcome with fatigue, and God only knew what other emotion, he put his head in his hands and tried to clear the fog from his over-tired brain. Then he re-read the letter, more slowly this time. It was the statement that she thought she was falling in love with him that wouldn’t go away. It kept staring him blindingly in the face. What was she thinking? She couldn’t possibly be. Hadn’t she understood he wasn’t the sort of man that loved, or was loved? God, he’d never been loved, though when he was younger he had tried to love. He’d tried to love his mother. That experience had taught him it was a lot less painfulif he didn’t let people get close to him, and if he didn’t get close to people. If he didn’t involve his heart. It had helped in the army, when he’d been laughing with colleagues one minute, and battling to save their lives the next. And it had helped with women, where no emotional attachments enabled him to easily continue doing the job he loved.

So what was he going to do about Brianna? How typical of her to declare her feelings and then tell him he was going to have to deal with it. It was part of what he admired about her. She was pushy, bolshie, but refreshingly straightforward.

He’d never received a love letter before and supposed, in her quirky way, this was one. Unheeded, a wash of emotion came over him as he thought of Brianna, thousands of miles away, bothering to put pen to paper and to parcel up her crazy giraffe. As his eyes filled and the emotion threatened to choke him, he shook himself. He was over tired, that was all. He’d get over it.

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