The City-Girl Bride

Maggie frowned. ‘Bella, I’m a headhunter, not…’

‘Don’t turn me down yet. Think about it,’ Bella started to cajole determinedly. ‘You’ve got the people skills to do it, Maggie, and I can’t think of anyone who would look after my people’s interests better. Financially you’d do very well out of it, too. Of course, theoretically, one should be able to work from anywhere in the world with all this modern technology, and the fact that I’m going to be based in the States should not make any difference at all, but my people are very valuable commodities, with extremely fragile egos in some cases, that require a certain amount of hands-on attention. And that’s something you are very good at, Maggie. What I’d got in mind for us was a partnership whereby—Wow!’

Bella broke off the earnestness of her discussion to say breathlessly, ‘Just look over there—that table for two to our right. Mmm.’ She sighed appreciatively. ‘There’s nothing quite like a big sexy man for making a woman remember that she’s a woman, and he’s very definitely all man and more.’

As she glanced idly in the direction Bella was indicating Maggie froze in shocked disbelief. The man Bella was drooling over was Finn. Finn, here in London, the place he abhorred, and sharing an intimate dinner with the kind of woman he supposedly found least attractive: a stunning, elegant, city-sleek brunette who was right now leaning across their table to place her hand over his whilst she smiled up into his eyes with the kind of smile that…

‘Maggie? Are you okay?’

Somehow she managed to swallow down the fiery ball of mingled fury and pain lodged in her throat; somehow she managed to drag her furious and anguished gaze away from the two people who were so patently oblivious to her presence.

‘Yes, yes, I’m fine,’ she lied, adding desperately, ‘Look, Bella, I’m afraid I’m going to have to cut and run. I forgot when we fixed dinner that I’d got something else on.’

As she spoke Maggie was standing up, desperate to leave the restaurant before Finn saw her, desperate to escape from that intimate little tableau that would be burned across her heart for ever.

Bella was looking confused, as well she might, Maggie acknowledged, and pressing her to think about the pr

oposal she had outlined to her.

‘Yes. Yes, I will,’ Maggie promised her.

Oh, please God, let her get away before Finn saw her. Please, please, please…

Finn tried not to show his impatience as his solicitor outlined some of the problems she had been having in drawing up the lease for the Dower House. Maggie’s request for some photographs of the house had led to him spending a bright afternoon photographing it, both inside and out, and the prints were now carefully tucked away in his briefcase, awaiting delivery to Maggie herself—his personal delivery. He could, of course, have mailed them, but since he had had to meet with his solicitor anyway, it had seemed only sensible to pass on the photographs to Maggie at the same time.

‘I can’t believe I’ve finally got you to come to London,’ Tina was teasing him ruefully, leaning across the table to tap the back of his hand in light admonition when he made no response. ‘Hello, Finn? Are you there?’ she asked him dryly.

‘I’m sorry,’ he apologised. ‘You were saying…?’

‘I’ve checked with Paul about the lease, and we think we’ve finally ironed out all the potential problems.’

Paul was her husband and partner, and Finn had first got to know them when he himself had worked in the City.

‘Oh, by the way, you’ll never guess what. We’re actually thinking of relocating ourselves. Paul’s dealt with so many country conveyances for our clients recently that he’s got itchy feet—’

She broke off her conversation as the sound of a chair being scraped back over the immaculate wooden floor broke the hushed silence of the restaurant. Automatically both of them looked in the direction of the sound.

Maggie…here…Finn couldn’t believe it. He started to get up from the table, but Maggie was already heading for the exit.

‘Finn, what is it?’ Tina was asking him in bemusement.

‘Nothing…I don’t want to rush you, Tina, but there’s someone else I have to see this evening.’

Maggie…Finn could feel his heart thudding heavily. Her dinner companion had been another woman and he knew he ought to be ashamed to admit just how much that pleased him.

The ache of missing her that had become a permanent feature of his life sharpened to a raging agony of need. If loving her was hell, then living without her was even worse. But a part-time relationship, taking second place to her career, that would never be enough for him.

He wanted her to want him, to love him with the same degree of commitment and intensity he did her.

Picking up the papers Tina had given him, he opened his briefcase to put them inside. Beneath the wallet of prints of the Dower House lay a small sheaf of estate agents’ brochures—one-bedroomed city apartments, pièd-a-terres just in case Maggie should…

Snapping his briefcase shut, he leaned over to kiss Tina.

He hadn’t alerted Maggie to the fact that he intended to call and see her just in case she refused to see him. Outside the hotel he gave the taxi driver her address and prayed grimly that she would have gone home when she left the restaurant, and not on to another venue.

Just as soon as she had put down her coat and bag and kicked off her shoes, Maggie started to rifle through the contents of her kitchen cupboard and fridge, with the panicky desperation of an addict hunting for a fix. It didn’t matter that she already had a freezer full of chilli; the need to make some more gripped her in its frantic compulsion. Making chilli soothed and comforted her, and it reminded her too that she was an independent strong-minded woman who could do anything she wished.

Except stop loving Finn.