‘So I can help you how, exactly?’
‘It’s simple. I take you, we pretend to be in love—that will make Leila believe I’m OK and I’ll be safe from the line-up of women.’
It was genius. As long as he ignored the small voice that pointed out that it would mean spending three days and nights with Imogen Lorrimer.
Not a problem. After all, they had already had one night together—he’d already broken Rule One. It was inconceivable that he would break Rule Two. Even if Imogen wanted to—and he was damn sure she didn’t.
‘So I’ll be camouflage?’
There was an edge to her voice that indicated Imogen was failing to see the mastermind qualities of the idea. But he really couldn’t see her issue. It had been her suggestion that had sparked the idea in the first place.
‘Yes.’
She slammed the pizza box down on the table with a thunk. ‘Can you not see how insulting that is?’
‘Insulting to whom?’
‘Me!’
Joe stared at her; her blue-grey eyes sparkled with anger and her hands were clenched into small fists. ‘How do you figure that?’
‘You really can’t see it, can you? I stupidly told you about Steve and Simone, but you still don’t get it.’
‘So why don’t you calm down and explain it?’
‘Fine. You—’ a slender finger was jabbed towards his chest ‘—still love Leila. You don’t want Leila to know you’re holding a torch the size of the Empire State Building for her but, believe you me, it’s obvious—and she knows it. If I come with you everyone will watch you mooning over Leila and feel sorry for me for being second-best. Or however far down the list I come in your table of one-night stands. So, thanks—but no thanks. I am not coming along to be an object of pity.’
Anger that Imogen would believe he was such an insensitive jerk clawed at his chest. ‘That is the most stupid analysis of the situation imaginable.’
‘Hah! Face the truth. You are nothing more than an insensitive arrogant bastard with his head up his bum. Well, you can find some other sucker. Hell, seems like I’ve been second-best or not up to scratch all my life. I’m not doing it again. No freaking way!’
His vocal cords appeared to have stopped working in the face of her torrent of words. Before he could find so much as a syllable her phone buzzed.
Tugging it out of her pocket, she looked down at the screen and the angry flush leeched from her skin. ‘It’s Richard.’
Joe raked a hand over his face and attempted to locate his professional business head. ‘Pick it up. And put him on loudspeaker.’
Imogen hauled in an audible breath, pressed a button and lifted the phone. She wrapped one arm around her stomach and said, ‘Hi, Richard. Imogen speaking.’
Looking down, Joe realised his knuckles had whitened as he grasped the table edge—he couldn’t remember the last time a business deal had mattered this much to him.
Imogen rocked to and fro on the balls of her feet, her face scrunched into creases of worry, and Joe felt his anger dissipate—to be replaced by a deep, almost painful hope that they’d won this proposal.
‘I’m grand.’ Richard’s voice boomed. ‘Thank you for your proposal. Crystal and I have discussed it, and Graham’s, and …’
Joe watched as Imogen caught her lower lip in her teeth, felt his gut lurch in sympathy.
‘Yours came in more expensive …’
Her shoulders slumped and Joe rose to his feet, striding around the table to take the phone, see if he could negotiate.
‘But we absolutely loved the premise so we’ve decided to go with you.’
‘Yes!’
He could feel the grin take over his face as he heard the words, saw the smile that illuminated Imogen’s features as the conversation continued.
‘Th … thank you so much, Richard. Absolutely. Yes. I’ll get a contract across to you as soon as the office opens for business.’