Carole Mortimer - To Marry Mccloud

Exactly how he took his coffee. But how did she know—?

‘What are you doing?’ he gasped disbelievingly as she sat down on the bed beside him.

She raised surprised brows, smiling down at him. ‘You don’t mind if I sit here and drink my coffee with you, do you…? Or that I borrowed your shirt to wear? It’s cold downstairs in the kitchen.’ She gave a slight shiver before taking a sip from her own steaming mug of coffee.

Fergus stared at her, not sure whether he wanted her to sit with him or not.

She had been roaming around the house, rooting around in the kitchen to find the makings of the coffee, obviously wearing nothing but his shirt! It was just as well it was Maud’s day off! His housekeeper was perfectly aware of his bachelor lifestyle, but that didn’t mean he had to flaunt it in her face.

Fergus turned away, ostensibly to pick up his own coffee and take a sip, but in actuality it was to give him a few more seconds’ thinking space. Except that it didn’t. By moving, he had discovered he was completely naked beneath the bedclothes!

Not that he should have been surprised by the fact, he realised dully. He didn’t remember meeting this woman, didn’t remember coming home with her, so why should he remember taking his clothes off?

There was, however, one undeniable truth to this situation: this woman—whoever she was—had obviously spent the night here. With him. In this bed. And he didn’t remember a thing about that, either!

Not even her name…

How the hell had this happened? Too much champagne on an empty stomach, came the obvious answer.

He remembered leaving the wedding reception. He vaguely recalled going on to the nightclub. After that—nothing!

“‘Thank you, Chloe”,’ she mocked behind him. ‘You’re welcome, Fergus,’ she answered liltingly.

Chloe. Her name was Chloe, he acknowledged with some relief. But he didn’t—

Yes, he did. Some of it was coming back to him now. The nightclub. She had come over and spoken to him. Sat with him, even though he had been less than enthusiastic. Had drunk with him. Gone to bed with him…?

Somehow he seemed to have missed something between drinking the champagne at the nightclub last night and waking up to find her in his bedroom this morning. He didn’t remember the two of them going to bed together at all, let alone—let alone—

How the hell did he get himself out of this one? He groaned inwardly. One thing was certain: he was never going to drink champagne—or anything else!—to excess, again.

‘Er—Chloe…?’ He turned slowly, slightly more awake now, blinking dazedly as he took in this woman’s delicate beauty.

She was so tiny. The hands that were cupped about her coffee mug were almost like a child’s. Hands that were bare of rings, Fergus noticed with a certain amount of relief; at least he didn’t find himself in this predicament with a married woman!

But that it was a predicament, he was in no doubt. How on earth were you supposed to behave towards a woman with whom you had obviously spent the night in bed—a night you didn’t remember? An apology didn’t seem to exactly fit the bill!

‘It’s good coffee,’ he said inanely instead.

‘Thank you,’ she accepted warmly, putting her empty mug down. ‘I simply can’t tell you how wonderful it was to meet you last night, Fergus,’ she added a little shyly

It was…?

Personally, he wouldn’t have thought himself capable of giving of his best in the condition he had been in last night, but who was he to argue if she—?

Damn it, it wasn’t a question of arguing; he simply didn’t remember anything of being intimate with this woman the night before, and he could not pretend otherwise. But he could hardly tell her the truth, either, his conscience warned him softly. Not only would that be insensitive, it would be extremely insulting!

‘I’m glad,’ he answered noncommittally, absently playing with the dark silkiness of her hair as he wondered what to do next. ‘Er—did we—?’ He broke off as the strident noise of the doorbell ringing resounded through the house.

Someone was at the front door!

Obviously, you idiot, he instantly scorned himself. But who on earth could be calling on him at—nine-forty-five, the bedside clock showed—on a Sunday morning?

There seemed only one way to answer that question. But with the beautiful Chloe dressed in nothing but his shirt, Fergus was loath to get out of bed to go downstairs and answer the door. Maybe if he just lay here and ignored it, whoever it was would go away—

The doorbell rang again. Longer this time.

His caller wasn’t going to just go away!

Chloe stood up. ‘Shouldn’t you go and answer that?’ she prompted.

Of course he should. But it could be anybody: his mother, who was in town for the wedding yesterday, or one of the women he had taken out during the last couple of weeks. He could hardly introduce any of them to Chloe when he didn’t even know who she was himself!

‘Wait here,’ he warned as he straightened, sitting up to swing his legs to the floor.

Yep, he was naked, all right. And a quick look round the room told him his dressing gown was in the bathroom where he had left it yesterday morning.

It was stupid to feel in the least self-conscious as he walked to the bathroom to get his robe. And yet he did. This woman might know exactly what he looked like without his clothes on, but he didn’t remember her knowing. He obviously knew what she looked like without her clothes too, but he didn’t remember that, either!

‘I won’t be long,’ he assured her before leaving the bedroom, more relaxed now that he was at least wearing his robe.

What an awful situation. Who was Chloe? Where had she come from? More to the point, what was he going to do with her now…?

‘Brice…!’ he breathed hoarsely after opening the door and finding his cousin standing there on the doorstep grinning at him cheerfully.

‘Fergus,’ Brice greeted lightly. ‘Nice car.’ He turned to look appreciatively at a green sports car parked behind him in the driveway. ‘Anyone I know?’ Brice raised inquisitive brows.

Fergus stared at the car. He had never seen it before. For that reason alone he knew it had to belong to Chloe.

Well, at least that answered one of the questions that had been plaguing him since he’d woken up earlier and found her standing beside his bed; with a car like that she was unlikely to be someone who expected paying for whatever services she had provided last night!

‘Or do I mean, anyone I should like to know?’ Brice amended teasingly.

No doubt his cousin would be as knocked out by the way Chloe looked as Fergus was himself. But Fergus suddenly found that he didn’t like that idea at all.

‘What can I do for you, Brice?’ he asked briskly.

The other man shrugged. ‘Don’t you remember that we made an agreement yesterday to play golf today? You said you weren’t working today, so I’ve booked us in for a round at twelve o’clock,’ he explained.

Golf. He had made arrangements to play golf today?

How on earth could he do that, when Chloe was still upstairs in his bedroom? When he had to find out exactly what—

‘Good morning!’ Chloe greeted cheerfully at that moment from directly behind him.

Fergus closed his eyes briefly in a wince. He had been hoping to put Brice off before going back upstairs to talk to Chloe; that way he could have avoided having the two of them meet. Her sudden appearance behind him meant it was going to be impossible.

‘And a good morning to you too,’ Brice returned lightly, looking past Fergus to smile at Chloe.

Fergus turned slowly, dreading the moment; Chloe had looked enchanting in his shirt, sexy as hell, actually, but, dressed like that, it was also obvious that she must have spent the night here. He and Brice were close, yes, but that didn’t mean he wanted his cousin to see Chloe looking like that.