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Bedded at the Billionaire's Convenience(25)

By:Cathy Williams


Georgie had only vaguely contemplated this scenario. She preferred to live in the present and appreciate its rewards rather than dwell on situations still yet to occur.

‘She chased me,’ Pierre said, looking at her from under his lashes as he sipped the wine. ‘Like a shameless hussy—’

‘Hang on!’

‘Georgie!’ Didi exclaimed, tickled pink by her son’s outrageous lie.

‘I think chase is a bit strong, darling.’

‘Nonsense.’ He deposited his empty plate on the table and relaxed back into the sofa, linking his fingers behind his head so that he could watch her through half-closed eyes. Georgie couldn’t imagine how she could ever have found this man boring. Since when was dangerous boring? She wondered at the countless times in the past when she had taken him to task over his parents. She had never felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end then as they did now. But then she had never in the past invaded his life, had she? Yes, she had irritated the hell out of him, but this was a different situation, wasn’t it?

‘Oh, there’s nothing wrong with the woman making the first move!’ Didi said delightedly, leaning forward in her chair, her hands pressed together. Where Pierre was tall and forbidding, his mother was delicate and warm, only their strikingly swarthy complexions linking them as mother and son. Her eyes were shining.

‘I think Pierre might be exaggerating just a tad!’ Georgie said, cornered.

‘You called me, don’t you remember?’ Pierre raised his eyebrows in unbidden amusement. ‘You said that you were in town and were at loose ends for dinner…sounds like an invitation to me…’ He gave his mother a conspiratorial look, which tickled her pink. ‘Naturally, what could a gentleman do?’ he asked with a casual shrug of his broad shoulders.#p#分页标题#e##p#分页标题#e#

Georgie cast her mind back to the gentleman who had greeted her at his gym with barely concealed hostility and impatience, as if a yapping dog had suddenly materialised clinging to his tailor-made Italian trousers.

The gentleman, it turned out, was more than prepared to be open about the winding course of their relationship. Georgie would never have credited him with the imagination, which showed how perilous it was to imagine you knew someone when you had only skimmed the surface, she decided.

Over dinner, which was tasty and hot and filling and washed down with liberal amounts of white wine, which Didi must have had delivered earlier in the day, he expanded on dates they had never had, kisses they had never shared, a love of theatre, which she supposed they might well have shared if given half a chance. She barely managed a word in edgewise.

Eventually, he gave her a secretly satisfied half-smile. Georgie, in return, grinned wanly at Didi.

‘It’s late, isn’t it?’ She yawned widely. ‘Why don’t you and Pierre catch up, Didi, and I’ll tidy the kitchen?’

Eight o’clock had turned into midnight. Didi, as if suddenly waking up to reality, walked to the kitchen window, pulled up the blinds, which had kept the winter night at bay, and turned to Georgie with a frown.

‘Georgie, darling, how did you get here?’

‘Drove,’ Georgie said, surprised. She got up and walked across to the window and stared out in dismay. The cold snap had finally broken and the snow that had been threatening for the past four days was falling down over the fields, the trees, everything. Including her car. ‘I’m going to have to go, Didi,’ she said, in a panic.

‘You can’t drive back, Georgie,’ Didi said firmly. ‘Can she, Pierre?’ She glanced over to her son for back-up and he dutifully joined them at the window, where he fell silent at the sight of the snow. It hardly ever snowed in London. He had forgotten what a beautiful sight it was.

‘Absolutely not,’ Pierre said, meaning it. He looked at Georgie. ‘Your car’s never been noted for its reliability. In this weather, I should think all it wants is tucking up in a warm garage and a cup of hot chocolate.’

Georgie couldn’t help herself. She laughed, because the description was so damned accurate.

‘I keep telling her that she should get rid of it, but you’re fond of that old thing, aren’t you, dear?’ Didi made a halfhearted effort to bustle towards the kitchen sink but, as though suddenly aware of the passage of time, it was obvious that her energy was flagging and she looked relieved when Georgie insisted she go upstairs and get some sleep.

‘And you won’t be attempting that trip back, will you?’ Didi asked anxiously from the door and Georgie shook her head with a reassuring smile.