The Billionaire's Bride of Convenience(54)
‘Maybe,’ he said.
‘No maybe about it, buddy. Nicole watched you with her today and she’s quite sure.’
Hugh had to laugh. ‘Then she knows more than I do. It’s probably just sex, Russ.’
‘How can it be just sex when you haven’t slept with her?’
‘Hell, Russ, you know me better than that, surely.’
‘You have been sleeping with her?’ Russ asked in shocked tones.
‘Ever since I offered to marry her.’
‘Well, I’ll be damned!’
‘I think it’s me who’ll be damned, Russ. Unconditional sex was my part of the bargain.’
‘I don’t know whether to admire you or admonish you. Not that I can judge. I wasn’t Mr Goody-Two-Shoes when I first met Nicole.’
‘You certainly weren’t,’ Hugh pointed out drily.
‘So where is she now? Why aren’t you collecting some more of your bargain? After all, Kathryn has to stay married to you till she inherits that house, doesn’t she?’
‘Technically. Look, I decided it was time to call it quits, OK? I’d had enough.’
‘Enough sex, or enough of your conscience? No, don’t bother to answer that. It would have been your conscience.’
Hugh sighed. ‘You know me too well.’
‘I do indeed. So what was she like in bed? She’s not my type but I can see the appeal.’
‘I’ve never been a kiss-and-tell kind of guy, Russ.’
‘Since when? Oh, come on, have pity on me. Give me a hint.’
‘Sorry.’
‘OK. Be Mr Noble. Now on to the second reason for this call. Would you like to come over for dinner tonight? Nicole thought you might be feeling a little down.’
‘I don’t think so, Russ.’
‘I told her you wouldn’t come. So what are you going to do?’
‘Not sure. I might get drunk.’
‘Don’t do that. Go out somewhere. Get back on the horse, buddy. Move on.’
‘You’re probably right.’
‘I am right. You know what they say—the king is dead, long live the king.’
‘That’s a bit heartless, isn’t it?’
‘What’s the alternative? Staying home and drinking yourself into oblivion? Or maybe you’d like to go to a psych and have analysis?’
‘I’m not a therapy kind of guy, either.’
‘You’re certainly not. You’re a man of action, Hugh. Now, get off your butt and do something.’
Hugh smiled a wry smile. ‘You really know how to cheer up a person.’
‘I’ve had a lot of practice this week. I said much the same to James yesterday.’
‘And did it work?’
‘He’s going to convert the pool house into an art studio for Megan. Give her something to take her mind off the miscarriage. Then, when the time is right, he’s going to take her on a second honeymoon.’
‘Sounds like a good plan.’
‘So what’s your plan? And don’t say you’re not a planning kind of guy. The time has finally come for you to give the future a bit more thought. You’re not getting any younger.’
‘Meaning?’
‘Meaning you should find out what you really want in life and go after it before you’re too old.’
Hugh sat thinking about Russ’s words, long after he’d hung up the phone. The trouble was, he finally accepted, he’d never aspired to any great goals, other than to not to make the same mistakes his father had made. Which was why he’d steered clear of greed, and the desire for power. And, oh, yes, love and marriage.
His easy-come, easy-go attitude to life and the opposite sex had worked for him till he’d met Kathryn. He’d been happy. Or as happy as any son of Dickie Parkinson could be. With Kathryn now gone, there was no reason why his old lifestyle shouldn’t work for him again.
But somehow, being a playboy had lost its appeal.
Yet what was the alternative?
In the end he stood up and made his way into the bedroom, where he’d left his mobile phone. Picking it up, he rang the telephone assistance line. After they’d located a particular lady’s number, Hugh steeled himself, then rang it.
‘Kandi Freshman,’ a woman’s voice answered.
‘Hi there, Kandi. It’s Hugh. Hugh Parkinson.’
‘Hugh! Oh, my goodness,’ she trilled brightly. ‘Fancying hearing from you after all this time. I thought I must have done something wrong.’