PROLOGUE
‘YOU want me to do what?’
Holly Foster sat down on the sofa with a thump and the phone slipped from her fingers.
‘Holly—?’ The deep male voice trickled out of the receiver. ‘Holl, are you still there?’
She must have misunderstood him. Scrabbling around on the floor for the phone, she lifted it to her ear. ‘I’m still here.’
‘What’s the matter?’
Holly blinked. ‘I’m shocked, that’s what’s the matter! You asked me to...you want me to...’ She took a deep breath and swept a strand of pale blonde hair out of her eyes. ‘You were joking, yes?’
‘No.’ His voice was calm and steady. ‘I’ve never been more serious in my life.’
Holly opened her mouth but no sound came out. Her voice seemed to have failed. She tried again. ‘Let me get this straight. You’re asking me to marry you?’
‘Damn it, Holly, of course I’m not asking you to marry me!’ He started to laugh. ‘You’re my best friend and have been for twenty-four years. I certainly don’t want to marry you!’
‘But you said—’
‘I didn’t say anything about marriage,’ he drawled. ‘Come on Holly! You know how I feel about marriage.’
She did know. It wasn’t that Mark was against marriage, but she knew that he was quietly determined to find the right person first time round. They’d talked about it frequently over the many years of their friendship, sharing their dreams and hopes. It certainly wasn’t a decision he’d ever take lightly. So why was he suggesting—?
‘Mark.’ Holly frowned suspiciously. ‘Have you been drinking?’
‘Drinking? It’s seven o’clock in the morning, Holly,’ he pointed out gently, and she yawned and glanced at the clock on the table. Seven o’clock? Only Mark would ring her that early. Not that it made any difference, of course. She’d been awake anyway...
‘Well, apart from being under the influence of alcohol—’ she forced her mind back to the conversation ‘—I can’t think of a single reason why you’d be asking me to marry you.’
‘You’ll understand once I’ve explained, and I’m not asking you to marry me,’ he said impatiently. ‘You weren’t listening properly. Wake up, will you? I didn’t say married. I said engaged.’
‘That’s the same thing!’ Holly stifled another yawn and tugged her skimpy nightie down over her slim thighs. ‘Mark Logan, you are the last man on earth I’d choose to spend the rest of my life with! You’re just not my type—’
‘What do you mean, I’m not your type?’ He sounded affronted. ‘I’m supposed to be your best friend!!’
Holly grinned. ‘You are my best friend—doesn’t mean I’d want to marry you, though. Or pretend to be engaged, come to that.’
‘Oh, come on, Holl,’ he murmured persuasively. ‘What’s the problem?’
‘What’s the problem? Mark, people don’t just pretend to be engaged,’ Holly said emphatically. ‘They either do it properly or not at all.’
There was a slight pause. ‘We used to do it when we were children.’
‘What, play mothers and fathers, you mean?’ Holly started to laugh. ‘I was four and you were six if my memory serves me right. I think we’ve moved on a bit since then.’
But not much. Unlike Mark’s, her love life was totally non-existent.
Resolutely she pushed the thought away. She had good friends and she was healthy. After everything that had happened in the last two months she was only too aware of what mattered in life. Romance, or rather the lack of it, was the least of her problems.
‘I still don’t see why you’re shocked.’ Mark wasn’t taking no for an answer. ‘It wouldn’t be difficult.’
Holly shook her head and blonde hair wafted around her smooth cheeks. ‘It would be impossible. It would never work.’
‘Give me one good reason.’
She could give him more than one. ‘Well, for a start you’re in Cornwall and I’m in London. Hardly the basis for a convincing romance.’
‘I’ve thought of that,’ he said immediately. ‘We need a practice nurse because ours is leaving. You can come here. Perfect solution for everyone.’
Holly gaped at the phone. ‘You’re asking me to move to Cornwall?’