Ally Blake - Marriage Material

She leapt as though he had jolted her with a fire poker. “Sorry?”

“Our little project? The plan to mold me into model marriage material?”

She blinked. “It’s not going exactly to plan,” she admitted.

It was enough to make him think of switching tack and grabbing her into his arms and kissing those nerves from her face, but she clammed up and turned back to watch the uninspiring freeway walls as they whipped past. “Well, just think of the next two days as an opportunity to get it back onto track.”

She slowly turned to face him. “Really?”

Yeah, really? Is that what he really wanted? For her to be telling him how to become a perfect partner—and then for him have to turn it on for someone else?

Ally Blake worked in retail, danced on television and acted in friends’ short films until the writing bug could no longer be ignored. And as her mother had read romance novels ever since Ally was a baby, the aspiration to write romance had been almost bred into her. Ally married her gorgeous husband, Mark, in Las Vegas (no Elvis in sight, thank you very much), and they live in beautiful Melbourne, Australia. Her husband cooks, he cleans and he’s the love of her life. How’s that for a hero?

Books by Ally Blake

HARLEQUIN ROMANCE®

3782—THE WEDDING WISH

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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To Mum who gave me my love of books, and Dad who couldn’t wait to see what I would become.

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

EPILOGUE

‘DELILAH! Don’t you look just beautiful?’ Sebastian raved to his favourite girl and earned a dimple-bright grin for his efforts.

Delilah had dressed herself in a dazzling ensemble of a rainbow-striped T-shirt, denim overalls, a pink frilly apron and yellow galoshes. Her curly blonde hair was decorated with a colourful assortment of ribbons and bobbles. Yet somehow on a four-year-old it worked.

She launched herself into his waiting arms and Sebastian whooped as though his niece had knocked the wind out of him. ‘You may be beautiful but you are seriously heavy. Did you eat bricks for lunch?’

‘No.’

‘Elephants?’

‘No!’

‘Chocolate cake?’

She pulled back and her big brown eyes grew round with surprise. ‘How could you tell?’ she asked, her voice a sweet lisping whisper.

Sebastian squeezed her around the middle, tickling as he went. ‘Yep, there it is, a chocolate-cake-shaped wedge.’

Delilah squirmed as she erupted into a fit of giggles.

‘Aren’t you supposed to be somewhere?’ Delilah’s mum, Melinda, chastised her younger brother, but her voice was warmed by gentle undertones.

Sebastian grimaced as he looked at his watch. ‘There’s no way I’m going to make it in time as it is, so another ten minutes can’t hurt.’

Melinda’s raised eyebrows showed how much she disagreed.

‘Are you taking me to afternoon kindergarten, Unca Seb?’ Delilah asked.

Sebastian looked to his sister for confirmation. She said nothing, just shoved her watch beneath his nose.

‘I know, I know.’ But Sebastian’s priorities meant this particular appointment could wait. ‘Would you like me to?’

‘Do you have the big car?’

The big car was Sebastian’s Jeep, plastic flap windows, roll bar, and abrasions streaking the once shiny black paint-work from much serious four-wheel driving. For some reason Delilah preferred this to his sleek sports car, which her older brothers favoured. She was going to be a spitfire, this one, no glamour puss, and Sebastian could not wait to see how she would turn out.

‘Of course I have the big car. I knew I was coming to see you.’

‘Then you can take me!’

Sebastian gathered her up and Melinda handed him Delilah’s Barbie lunchbox and matching backpack.

‘Bye, Ma!’

‘Bye, munchkin.’ Melinda gave Delilah a big smooch on the cheek.

‘Bye, sis!’ Sebastian stuck out his cheek for the same and received a fierce pinch instead.

He bundled his niece across the yard, through the frosty Melbourne winter air, and into his ‘big car’. He snapped and tightened Delilah’s seat belt and could not help but smile when he saw her feet only just reached the edge of the front seat.

She must have sensed his attention as she turned to him, her blonde curls bouncing about her ears, and cast him her sweetest smile.

His heart clenched. Once he dropped her off, the car would be empty, just like his spacious home, where for years numerous spare bedrooms had awaited the cheeky spirit and raucous giggles of children.

He gunned the engine, pumping the accelerator more than necessary but the noise helped obliterate the nagging sense of loneliness that had been creeping up on him all morning.

He glanced at the clock in the dashboard. He was fifteen minutes late already. He drove out onto the tree-lined suburban street. What did fifteen minutes matter when no matter what he did that day, by the time he got back home, it would be to a big, empty house once more?

FURIOUSLY caressing her favourite calming crystal, a smooth, misshapen ball of blue lace agate, Romy was able to keep her mounting impatience in check.

He’s late, Romy thought, sending a calm, no-worries smile to the three others who sat with her around the modern kidney-shaped conference table. Make that very late.

They were all awaiting the arrival of Sebastian Fox, an ex-golf pro turned professional tomcat, a serial fiancé who nevertheless had walked the aisle to marriage but once, lasted six months at that, and, if all went according to Romy’s plan, the soon-to-be ex-husband of her client.

Rather than do the impolite thing and release her frustration by screaming obscenities at the top of her lungs, Romy stood and walked to the doorway.

‘Since we might be here a while yet,’ Romy said, her voice the model of composure, ‘who wants a cuppa?’

Gloria, Romy’s legal assistant, dressed in her customary head-to-toe basic black, requested plain coffee, black also.

Janet, Romy’s client, was irritable and very good at it. Even the ambient sound of waves lapping at a far-away beach pulsing from hidden speakers could not surmount the incessant tattoo of her long, painted fingernails rapping on the smooth Formica tabletop. She ordered a tall espresso, extra-strong, and Romy wondered whether the tabletop would survive her attentions once that level of caffeine hit her system.

Sebastian Fox’s lawyer, Alan Campbell, who sat alone on the concave side of the table, seemed hypnotised by the drumming of Janet’s fingernails. Apparently caffeine upset his stomach ulcer so he settled on a glass of water with which to take some Alka-Seltzer.