JACQUELINE BAIRD - The Reluctant Fiancee

She pursed her lips; the deep vee of the jacket lapels maybe revealed a little too much cleavage. She would have to remember not to bend forward and reveal the lace of her bra—or maybe she could remove the bra! What the hell? she told herself. You’re in the city now... And she did. Then, rashly, she unpinned her hair from its rather severe chignon and let it fall loose about her shoulders.

Her jacket back in place, she stopped in the act of picking up her hairbrush. Was that someone hurrying down the corridor? Must be Security... Tipping her head forward, she brushed her hair until it crackled with life and then swung it back. The effect was rather good, even if she did say so herself. Having been pinned up all day, her usually straight silver-blonde hair had developed a rather nice bouncy curl around the ends.

A quick spray of her favourite perfume, and she was ready. Quickly she replaced her toiletries in the locker, with her discarded bra and blouse, and with a last look at her reflection she made for the door.

Bea stepped out into the hall. Just at that moment the office door she had so recently locked was flung open. She expected to see a security man, but what she actually saw stopped her in her tracks.

‘You—you crazy little bitch. I might have guessed,’ Leon Gregoris roared, and came barrelling towards her, a security man hard on his heels, apologising madly.

‘Leave it—and us. I will deal with this,’ Leon snarled at the poor man, and Bea watched in open-mouthed amazement as the security man disappeared at a run. She turned back just in time to have Leon grab her by the arm. ‘I suppose you thought that was funny—a stupid, childish practical joke. My God! Are you never going to grow up?’

Bea shook her head. It was a dream—it had to be. One minute she was in an empty office building, preparing for a date, the next Leon had appeared out of nowhere, breathing fire and brimstone. She hadn’t been far wrong when she’d thought he looked like a warlock. She glanced curiously up into his red, furious face; the devil himself might be nearer the mark.

‘Well, woman, what have you to say for yourself?’

‘I haven’t the foggiest notion what you’re talking about,’ she offered, with another shake of her head. He was dressed in a dark blue suit and white silk shirt, with a maroon silk tie half undone around his neck. The white of his shirt only served to emphasise his darkly flushed features. ‘Where did you come from?’ she asked in obvious puzzlement.

Hell itself, if the flames leaping in his black eyes were anything to go by as they seared down into hers!

‘Don’t give me that wide-eyed innocent look. You deliberately locked me in that office. Didn’t you?’

Suddenly she was aware of the fierce grip of his hand around her forearm; the heat of his large body seemed to reach out to engulf her. Swallowing hard, she tried to pull free. ‘Locked you in the office?’ she muttered inanely. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t even know you were here,’ she added, gathering her composure. ‘I think you’ve had a brainstorm. Maybe you should see a doctor.’

‘I sometimes wonder that myself. Why I put up with you I will never know,’ Leon grated, scowling down at her. ‘You drive me to distraction almost every time we meet. What is it with you? Is it your purpose in life to deliberately make me look a fool?’

‘I don’t have to; you do that very well yourself. That poor security man looked petrified. What on earth did you say to him?’ She watched him warily; she saw him take a few deep breaths, his massive chest expand and contract beneath the soft fabric of his shirt. For a second he closed his eyes, and then he opened them again.

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