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Bedded at the Billionaire's Convenience(44)

By:Cathy Williams


Georgie looked at Pierre accusingly. Now even Didi was on his side. She wanted to stamp her feet and throw a tantrum. ‘Maybe you’re right,’ she said demurely. ‘But while we’re on the subject of alternative experiences, I have one that’s a little closer to home for you, Pierre.’#p#分页标题#e##p#分页标题#e#

‘Oh?’

‘Yup.’ She flashed him a look that he, personally, considered pretty seductive. Or was his mind playing tricks on him? He frowned sternly back at her.

‘It’s Santa,’ she said airily.

‘Santa. No idea what you’re on about, but, then again, it won’t be the first time I’ve found myself in that particular boat with you.’

‘Remember I was saying what a hectic day it’d been at school today? Well, part of the headache has been that Mr Blackman, who usually does his Santa routine for the kids, is in hospital. Slipped on a patch of icy road and sprained his ankle rather badly.’

‘Oh, no!’ Pierre was beginning to get the picture. ‘No way.’

‘What about all this stuff about challenges?’ Georgie smiled smugly. ‘I’m just challenging you to do something very small, Pierre. Honestly. A couple of hours out of your day. Surely you can spare that?’

‘I can’t imagine you in a Santa outfit,’ Didi remarked, looking very much as if she would love to see it. ‘Your dad used to dress up as Santa every year until you were about seven. Then you stopped believing in Santa, but, oh, how you loved it!’

‘I don’t remember that,’ Pierre said, momentarily distracted. At the back of his mind, a memory tugged. ‘Anyway—’ back to the present ‘—it’s out of the question.’

‘Why? It would be such a help, Pierre.’

‘What about one of the fathers? Surely there must be a dad or two from the school who wouldn’t mind stepping in to fill the gap? Someone who would be a hell of a lot more credible than I ever could be.’

‘Nope. Can’t think of one.’ Could think of dozens.

‘I’m not the right shape and there’s not enough time to fatten me up.’

‘Oh, don’t worry about that! You’d be amazed what a bit of padding can do! A cushion here…a cushion there…’

‘I’ll leave you two to fight it out, shall I?’ Didi yawned. ‘I’m going to head upstairs. Watch a little telly, I think. There’s that excellent drama on in half an hour. But, Pierre—’ she looked at him firmly ‘—I think you should take up Georgie’s challenge. Just think of all those little smiling faces.’

As soon as she had vanished from the kitchen Pierre looked at Georgie with a scowl. ‘You have my mother to thank for this.’

‘So you agree?’

‘Reluctantly.’

‘It’s just a little singsong, a few Christmas Carols at the school and then you can give out the presents.’

‘And what do you do for me in return?’

Georgie felt her heart skip a beat, but the gaze she gave him was uncomprehending.

‘Meaning?’

‘Try some city life. Even Didi agrees with me. I’m not talking about London. That might be a little daunting for the uninitiated.’

‘Teaching jobs aren’t that easy to find! And for your information, I could easily do London!’

‘Oh, really.’

‘I’ve got to head back, Pierre.’ She stood up and he followed her out into the hall, watching as she slung on her colourful layers, ending with the ever-hardy poncho. He had never liked her style of dressing. For him, it had always epitomised the country bumpkin, stubbornly refusing to give in to fashion, as if there were something irresponsible about looking glamorous. He didn’t seem to mind it now. It was unique and quirky and weirdly feminine. Ultra feminine.
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‘I’ll drive you,’ he said brusquely, looking away, and, as expected, she launched into an immediate protest. She could drive back herself, thank you very much…she had after all, been driving quite merrily in the depths of winter before he came along…she had her mobile and obviously if her car decided to bite the dust mid route then she would give him a call and he could rescue her…

Pierre shrugged. ‘Suit yourself. I’m going to London for the day tomorrow but I’ll be back mid-morning on Wednesday. What time do you want me to show up?’

‘Two would be great. I…I’ll bring the costume into school tomorrow…that’s usually the routine. The sack of presents is already locked away in the staff room and you can change there. Is that okay?’ She turned away, heading for the door. Now that Didi was no longer on the scene, all semblance of politeness had been dropped and his indifference got to her. With one hand on the doorknob, she turned to him and said, jerkily, ‘What Didi said about…your charity work…I had no idea and I want you to know that I think it’s brilliant. Marvellous.’ She met his eyes squarely and Pierre fought down an irrational urge to mentally preen and pat himself on the back.