Page 13 of Marry Me…Maybe?
‘What can I say? Zee guys, zay luurve me!’
‘So they should. You’re a total goddess.’
‘Why, thank you, my darling. Anyway, I’d better scoot – got toget my beauty sleep if I’m going to impress His Lordship tomorrow.’
‘Okay – night, babe.’
‘Nighty-night.’
Emily had just ended the call when another number flashed up on the screen.
‘Hello?’
‘Emily, it’s Theo.’
Her chest did a strange squeezy thing at the sound of his voice. ‘Hi. So, we’re on?’
‘I told my mother about you. I said I’d been keeping you quiet because I wanted to be sure about committing to you before introducing you to her.’
‘And?’
‘As predicted, she wants to meet you. I think she’s a little suspicious about how I’ve suddenly produced you out of thin air and wants to make sure she’s not being taken for a ride.’
‘Smart woman.’
‘That she is.’
‘Should I come for lunch?’
‘Yes. Get here for midday tomorrow and be ready to turn on the charm.’
She pinched her nose to make her voice sound nasal. ‘Wilco, my lord. Coming through, loud and clear.’
‘Emily?’
‘Yes, my darling?’
‘You’re starting to worry me.’
She laughed. ‘Chill out, Your Earlness, it’s going to be fine.’
3
Theo was finishing up a job in his workshop before lunch the following day when Emily strolled in, looking for all the world like a demure, rich debutante in a strait-laced, knee-length skirt, smart high-heeled shoes and a soft pink blouse which was buttoned up nearly to her neck. She’d tamed her wild curls into a sleek-looking knot on top of her head and her make-up was subtle and sparing.
She’d tied her personality down tight.
He felt oddly disconcerted by it.
Frustratingly, he’d not stopped thinking about her since he’d left her in his kitchen the day before, forcing himself to walk away from the bone-rattling sexual tension between them before he did something stupid like acting on it.
‘You’re early,’ he said, glancing at his watch to confirm it was only eleven thirty.
She shrugged. ‘I didn’t want to be late and get off on the wrong foot with your mother.’ She picked up a pair of his goggles from the workbench next to her. ‘I guessed you might be in here, playing with your tools,’ she said, holding the goggles up to her eyes and making a ridiculous-looking face at him.
He rolled his eyes and walked over to grab them from her, dumping them back onto the workbench.
He liked it that she was comfortable enough with her looks to know she could get away with making herself look stupid and not lose any of her appeal, but he didn’t want to encourage her in case she did it in front of his mother. She liked ladies to be just that – ladies – and she wouldn’t see the funny side of any larking about.
