LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

Sephy repeated, dumbfounded. ‘You were shy?’

      ‘I know.’ He flicked a quick glance at her. ‘I guess you can’t even imagine what that would be like, can you?’

      ‘Guess not.’ There had never been any room for shyness in the King household. ‘Is that why you wouldn’t entertain the idea of doing the photo shoot?’

      ‘Little bit, yeah.’

      Sephy couldn’t believe the quietness she’d always appreciated in him might stem from shyness.

      ‘I guess I forget that because you don’t look like your typical geek. That doesn’t mean you’re not more comfortable surrounded by and communicating via a bank of computers, but you’re not shy around me,’ she added, thinking aloud.

      ‘You’re right, I’m not.’

      Sephy was still trying to work out a way of asking him precisely what he meant by that when he sat back against the sofa cushions, reminding her how close they were and forcing her to appreciate that it wasn’t that her sofa was miniscule, it was that Luke could hold his own in the large-male-presence stakes.

      ‘Tell me about why you chose to specialise in underwear rather than outerwear,’ he asked in a fast-and-smooth change of subject that had Sephy needing a moment to catch up.

      She stared fixedly at the lingerie on the armchair she usually sat on and decided to accept his change of subject on account of it meaning she could talk about something she understood, as opposed to what might or might not be going on under the surface of their friendship.

      ‘Why did I choose lingerie? I guess underwear is all about foundation.’

      ‘Not sexiness?’

      Sephy’s nose wrinkled as she smiled, because what woman didn’t like to wear something that made her feel feminine, pretty, seductive and hot? ‘That too – but mostly designing lingerie is about getting the structure right.’

      Luke appeared to think for a moment. ‘Feeling rock solid underneath equals feeling invincible on the outside?’

      ‘Um, yeah.’ Wow. Sephy let her breath out softly. He got it. She tried not to be too impressed.

      ‘What if someone prefers going commando?’ Luke asked.

      ‘Huh?’ Why had she thought this conversation would be safer again? And why, for the love of God, was she suddenly thinking about Luke and the way his jeans fit him and whether or not he preferred to go commando?

      ‘You know – someone who prefers not to wear any underwear.’

      ‘Yes. Thank you. I do know what going commando means.’ She would not look at him. She would not. Reaching forward she put her plate carefully back on the coffee table and tried to surreptitiously add another one or two millimetres of breathing space between them as she tucked a leg under her and eased back against the back of the sofa.

      ‘I guess,’ she said, as casually as she could manage, ‘if a person prefers not to wear underwear, well then I guess they’re not my customer.’

      ‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Luke said with a quiet intensity that had her breath coming shorter. ‘I think your designs could convince them.’

      ‘I know you could,’ she whipped back.

      Luke grinned. ‘And that’s absolutely all you’re asking me to do by posing in those photos? You really think I could help you sell more lingerie?’

      ‘Of course.’

      ‘And my head would be cropped from all the shots?’

      Sephy felt the leap of excitement and tried not to get carried away. Slowly, she turned to face him more fully. ‘What exactly are you saying, here?’

      ‘I’m saying okay.’

      ‘Okay…?’ She had to have this wrong, didn’t she? Somehow the combination of pheromones and heat caused by her proximity to him had jumbled up the connections in her brain. He wasn’t really saying…

      ‘Okay, I will be your model.’

      Sephy’s hand came up to her mouth. Oh. My. God.

      She could kiss him.

      Wait – no.

      She really couldn’t.

      A huge weight felt as if it had been lifted off her shoulders, making her want to jump up and happy-dance all over the living room.

      ‘On two conditions,’ Luke said.

      The carousel of joy inside of her wound down and came to an abrupt halt.

      ‘What are your conditions?’ she made herself ask because, suddenly, with what she had asked for within touching distance, she realised she needed to keep her business head-on.

      ‘First condition: you are the model in the photographs with me.’

      Sephy snorted. ‘Very funny. What’s your real condition?’

      ‘I mean it, Sephy. You are the model I model with. They’re your designs. You shouldn’t really have a problem with that.’

      ‘Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not a –’ she stopped because Luke was looking at her like he was about to say touché. ‘What’s your second condition?’ she asked, needing something to take her mind off what it would feel like to have Luke see her in her underwear, because telling herself it would be like posing in a bikini wasn’t in any way having a dousing-with-cold-water effect.

      Luke looked her calmly in the eye and said, ‘My second condition is that you agree to pose as my fiancée when my parents show up for a visit in a couple of weeks.’

       CHAPTER FOUR

      It was crazy, Sephy thought, upping the intensity level of the elliptical she was on at Heathstead’s branch of Love Leisure.

      ‘Stupid’, she muttered under her breath, determined to work up a sweat and work off some of her feelings.

      In fact, what it was – was crazy-stupid.

      And she was certifiably both of those things to be even considering agreeing to Luke Jackson’s ridiculous conditions.

      Sephy’s finger stabbed at the volume button on the MP3 player attached to her arm. Heavy dance beats dropped through her ear-buds, helping her push her body harder, faster. She only wished they were loud enough to completely drown out thoughts of Luke and how much she really wanted him to model in her lingerie shoot and what she would have to do in return.

      Last night, when he had named his second condition, it was as if someone had opened up the cabinet of emotions inside of her, chosen the bottle marked hysteria, taken out its stopper and upended its contents.

      She had totally misunderstood and had heard ‘actual fiancée’ instead of ‘fake fiancée’.

      Scary-quick, she had jumped in her head from fiancée to wife to married. To Luke Jackson. All the while hysteria had bubbled and fizzed under her skin. Had Luke somehow got wind of her financial situation and concocted a convoluted plan to provide her with financial assistance? She wouldn’t totally put it past his level of generosity.

      But thankfully Luke had kept talking as she had stared at him dumbfounded. Finally his continued explanation about how helping him out with his little white lie would be fair exchange for him helping her out had filtered through.

      There was no way Luke could have found out about her father’s letter. The only people who knew its contents were Jared and Nora and they would never betray her like that.

      She was safe from screaming from the rooftops that she wasn’t living in a Jane Austen novel and

Скачать книгу