A Pretend Engagement Read Online Free Page A
Author: Jessica Steele
necessary over her pink-tipped breasts, down over her belly and slender hips, past her beautifully shaped long, long legs.
But by the time he reached her toes Varnie was released from the shock that had kept her frozen still and was suddenly galvanized into action. Without a word or another glance at him, as one of his legs came from beneath the covers and it seemed he was going to stand up and shake hands anyway, Varnie got out of there. Had she had space, time, and had her head not been alive with horror she would have attempted to cover her fleeing naked buttocks with the towel, but she was much more concerned with doing a quick disappearing act.
She reached her room and slammed the door hard shut, to find she was breathing hard and shaking from head to foot. Johnny! Johnny Metcalfe, her brother- stepbrother, if you must. She'd stepbrother him! If he wasn't in Australia, if she could get her hands on her, she'd kill him. How could he? And it had to be him! He had invited a perfect stranger to sleep overnight at what was now, she started to accept, her place.
Johnny knew who he was, of course. The man was no stranger to him. And not totally a stranger to her either, not since she had seen that picture of him in the paper yesterday. There was absolutely no need for the man to introduce himself. She already knew who he was.
But what in blazes was Leon Beaumont doing here? And, more worrying than that, he-the first man ever to do so-had just seen her completely stark naked-stitch less. Oh, heavens above, how on earth was she ever to face him again?
CHAPTER TWO
HASTILY, flicking nervous glances to her slammed shut bedroom door from time to time, just in case Leon Beaumont should take it into his head to follow her, Varnie wrapped the large towel around her shape and searched her flight bag for the key to her case. With fumbling, agitated fingers she unlocked her case and extracted underwear, trousers and a shirt.
She heard plumbing noises and hated Leon Beaumont that he, when she was too panic-stricken to think of taking a shower in case he walked in, as nice as you please, was showering, quite unconcerned.
Varnie broke another unwritten rule. She rinsed her face and then dressed without first showering. After running a comb through her hair she left her room, went down the stairs and went into the kitchen to wait.
He was in no particular hurry, it seemed, and still hadn't appeared five minutes later. But, while still not looking forward to seeing him again-she went red just thinking of how she had stood, positively starkers, in front of him she was beginning to feel much calmer than she had.
The longer he kept her waiting, though, and she was starting to think that perhaps there was no need for her to face the embarrassment of seeing him again. Johnny would have told him that his sister owned the house and... Or would he? There was no knowing with Johnny. At times that clever brother of hers could be totally feather-brained. It could be, she realised, that Leon Beaumont had not the smallest clue who she was. So why didn't she just open that door, take a fast walk to her car, and get out of there? She could be back home in Gloucestershire by...
Hang on a minute, this was her house! Not his! And anyway, she wasn't ready to go home yet. Soon the pain of Martin Walker's perfidiousness would start, and she would prefer to be alone here rather than at home with her parents when that happened. She wanted to leave them in peace, blissfully believing she was abroad enjoying the ski slopes.
And on the thought that she had come here to be alone Varnie decided that it was time she got her act together. Time she took charge of the situation. She had no idea what Leon Beaumont was doing here, but she wasn't leaving-he was!
Feeling in a sudden determined frame of mind, Varnie marched from the kitchen and along the hall to the bottom of the stairs. There she
But by the time he reached her toes Varnie was released from the shock that had kept her frozen still and was suddenly galvanized into action. Without a word or another glance at him, as one of his legs came from beneath the covers and it seemed he was going to stand up and shake hands anyway, Varnie got out of there. Had she had space, time, and had her head not been alive with horror she would have attempted to cover her fleeing naked buttocks with the towel, but she was much more concerned with doing a quick disappearing act.
She reached her room and slammed the door hard shut, to find she was breathing hard and shaking from head to foot. Johnny! Johnny Metcalfe, her brother- stepbrother, if you must. She'd stepbrother him! If he wasn't in Australia, if she could get her hands on her, she'd kill him. How could he? And it had to be him! He had invited a perfect stranger to sleep overnight at what was now, she started to accept, her place.
Johnny knew who he was, of course. The man was no stranger to him. And not totally a stranger to her either, not since she had seen that picture of him in the paper yesterday. There was absolutely no need for the man to introduce himself. She already knew who he was.
But what in blazes was Leon Beaumont doing here? And, more worrying than that, he-the first man ever to do so-had just seen her completely stark naked-stitch less. Oh, heavens above, how on earth was she ever to face him again?
CHAPTER TWO
HASTILY, flicking nervous glances to her slammed shut bedroom door from time to time, just in case Leon Beaumont should take it into his head to follow her, Varnie wrapped the large towel around her shape and searched her flight bag for the key to her case. With fumbling, agitated fingers she unlocked her case and extracted underwear, trousers and a shirt.
She heard plumbing noises and hated Leon Beaumont that he, when she was too panic-stricken to think of taking a shower in case he walked in, as nice as you please, was showering, quite unconcerned.
Varnie broke another unwritten rule. She rinsed her face and then dressed without first showering. After running a comb through her hair she left her room, went down the stairs and went into the kitchen to wait.
He was in no particular hurry, it seemed, and still hadn't appeared five minutes later. But, while still not looking forward to seeing him again-she went red just thinking of how she had stood, positively starkers, in front of him she was beginning to feel much calmer than she had.
The longer he kept her waiting, though, and she was starting to think that perhaps there was no need for her to face the embarrassment of seeing him again. Johnny would have told him that his sister owned the house and... Or would he? There was no knowing with Johnny. At times that clever brother of hers could be totally feather-brained. It could be, she realised, that Leon Beaumont had not the smallest clue who she was. So why didn't she just open that door, take a fast walk to her car, and get out of there? She could be back home in Gloucestershire by...
Hang on a minute, this was her house! Not his! And anyway, she wasn't ready to go home yet. Soon the pain of Martin Walker's perfidiousness would start, and she would prefer to be alone here rather than at home with her parents when that happened. She wanted to leave them in peace, blissfully believing she was abroad enjoying the ski slopes.
And on the thought that she had come here to be alone Varnie decided that it was time she got her act together. Time she took charge of the situation. She had no idea what Leon Beaumont was doing here, but she wasn't leaving-he was!
Feeling in a sudden determined frame of mind, Varnie marched from the kitchen and along the hall to the bottom of the stairs. There she
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