He’d noticed her smile as he opened the balcony doors. “Have I done something amusing?”
Diana shook her head. “I was just thinking that, even in the old days, you always seemed to be able to do several things at the same time and completely effortlessly. I always admired that.”
The compliment was so surprising to Cole, and so pleasing, that he couldn’t think of a reply, and so he watched in silence as she stepped past him onto the tiny patio.
Walking over to the railing, Diana gazed out at the glittering carpet of Houston lights far below while soft music drifted from the stereo in the living room and her mind drifted inexorably to Dan.
Cole joined her, but angled his body so that he was facing her, with his elbow propped on the railing. “I hope you’re thinking of Penworth, and not me, with that woebegone expression on your face.”
Chafed at having been described as woebegone, Diana proudly lifted her chin. “We haven’t spent much time together in the last year, and I’ve practically forgotten him already.”
Instead of replying, Cole merely raised his brows and regarded her in skeptical silence, managing to convey not only his disbelief but also his disappointment in her obvious unwillingness to confide in him. After the way he’d come to her rescue tonight, Diana knew he deserved more than a brush-off for an answer. “That was a lie,” she conceded with a shaky sigh. “The truth is that I’ve accepted what happened as being final, but I feel . . . furious. I feel furious and humiliated.”
“Of course you do,” Cole said with amused sympathy. “After all, you’ve just been dumped by the scum of the earth.”
Diana’s jaw dropped. She stared at him in angry shock. And then she burst out laughing.
Cole’s answering chuckle was rich and deep as he slid his arm around her, pulling her close to his side. The soft, fine fabric of his jacket brushed her bare skin as he curved his arm around her shoulders, his fingers sliding warmly up and down her arm. Even though she was merely a stand-in for his soon-to-be fiancée, it was still nice to know that someone—someone tall and handsome and very special—seemed to find her appealing enough to want to spend time with her tonight. Appealing and worthwhile. Not like Dan, who’d—She lifted the glass to her mouth and took a long swallow to chase away the thoughts of Dan.
She remembered that Cole wanted to perfect his proposal technique, and that reminded Diana that she was still wearing the necklace. “I’d better take this off before I forget and leave with it,” she said, reaching behind her neck for the clasp.
“Leave the necklace alone,” he instructed. “I bought it for you.”
Her hands stilled at his tone. “No, you bought it for the woman you intend to marry—”
“That’s what I just said.”
Diana gave her head a shake to clear it. Turning so that she could see his face, she shoved her hair back off her forehead and ruefully admitted, “I’ve had much more to drink tonight than I normally would have, and I seem to be having trouble following the thread of our conversation. It’s as if you’re talking in riddles.”
“In that case, I’ll make it clearer. I want you to marry me, Diana. Tonight.”
She grabbed the high railing and gave a shriek of laughter. “Cole Harrison, are you drunk?”
“Certainly not.”
She studied him in adorable confusion. “Then . . . am I drunk?”
“No, but I wish you were.”
Finally, she loosened her grip and turned to him with a wobbly smile. “You can’t really be serious.”
“I am very serious.”
“I don’t want to s-seem ungrateful or critical,” she said in a laughing voice, “but I f-feel I ought to warn you that you’re now carrying gallantry too far.”
“Gallantry has nothing to do with it.”
With unemotional objectivity, Cole observed Diana’s struggle to regain control over her hilarity. She was so damned lovely, he thought. The newspaper picture of her had probably come from a magazine press kit, and it hadn’t done her justice. It had been a moderately glamorous business photo of a smiling, confident woman, but the real-life Diana was far more arresting. The photo hadn’t even hinted at the entrancing warmth of her sudden smile, or the red highlights in her glossy hair, or the jeweled sparkle of her thick-lashed green eyes. As far as he could recall, the tiny cleft in the center of her chin had been completely missing.
She could hardly keep her face straight as she said, “Either you are carrying pity for me to an unbelievable extreme, Mr. Harrison, or else you’re not playing with a full deck.”
“I am neither dim-witted nor crazy,” he stated, “and pity has nothing to do with my reasons for wanting this marriage.”
Diana searched his shadowy face for some indication that he was joking, but his expression was completely unemotional. “Am I honestly supposed to take you—I mean, this proposal—seriously?”
“I assure you, I’m completely serious.”
“Then, do you mind if I ask you a few questions?”
He held out his arms in a gesture of complete cooperation. “Ask me anything you like.”
She tipped her head to the side, her face a mirror of confusion and disbelief overlaid with amusement. “Do you happen to be under the influence of any mind-altering drugs?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Am I supposed to believe that—um—you fell in love with me when I was a teenager, and you’ve—ah—carried a torch all this time, and that’s why you want to marry me now?”
“That scenario is as ludicrous as the one before it.”
“I see.” She was absurdly disappointed that he hadn’t had even a tiny crush on her when she had been insane about him.
“Would you rather I’d lied about having a crush on you?”
“No. I’d rather you tell me your reason for wanting to marry me,” she said flatly.
r /> “There are two reasons: I need a wife, and you need a husband.”
“And that,” Diana speculated dryly, “makes us perfect for each other?”
Cole looked down at her glowing eyes and smiling mouth and had an impulse to bend his head and slowly kiss the smile from her lips. “I think it does.”
“I don’t know why you need to get married,” Diana said tightly, “but believe me, marriage is the last thing I need.”
“You’re wrong. Marriage is exactly what you need. You’ve been publicly jilted in the world press by a jerk, and according to what I read in the Enquirer, your magazine has been under a competitor-driven media attack for nearly a year over your personal state of ‘unwedded bliss.’ Now that’s going to escalate. What did the headline in the Enquirer say . . . ?” He paused, then quoted, “?‘Trouble in Paradise—Diana Foster Is Jilted by Fiancé.’?” Shaking his head, he said bluntly, “That’s bad press, Diana. Very bad. And extremely damaging for business. By marrying me, you could save your pride and also save your company from the negative effects of those headlines.”
She gazed up at him as if she’d just suffered a mortal blow from the last person she expected to hurt her. “How pathetic and desperate I must seem to you if you could even suggest such a thing and believe I’d go along with it.”
She shoved away from the railing and started to turn toward the doors into his suite, but Cole caught her arm in a gentle but unbreakable grip. “I’m the desperate one, Diana,” he said flatly.
Diana stared at him dubiously. “Just exactly what makes you so ‘desperate’ for a wife that any woman will do?”
Instinct and experience told Cole that a little tender persuasion could vastly further his cause, and he was prepared to resort to that, but only if logic and complete honesty weren’t enough to persuade her. In the first place, she was vulnerable right now, and he didn’t want to do or say anything that might make her ultimately regard him as a possible substitute for the love, and lover, she’d lost. Second, he had no intention of complicating their marriage with any messy emotional or physical intimacy.