were prepared to pay for their little bit of glamour at a price that wouldn’t break the bank—just strain it.
‘Rowena has excellent taste.’
Holly couldn’t help but notice with a stab of anger how swift he was to defend her sister from possible criticism. Her lips tightened.
‘It wasn’t from her.’ Suddenly she didn’t want to be the sort of woman who everyone assumed would only receive an expensive gift from her sister. Why shouldn’t she have some wealthy, besotted lover hovering solicitously in the background? She ground her bare toes into the thick rug that partly covered the dark oak boarded floor.
Niall had turned back to face her; he was frowning critically. ‘Some gift…Special sort of friend?’
‘I did him a favour,’ she responded, not much caring in her present frame of mind what Niall made of this deliberately obscure explanation. Where did he get off, anyway, with all that tight-lipped disapproval? It wasn’t any of his business if she let a man shower her with diamonds! Her eyes were drawn to the large sapphire sitting on her finger.
She had thought Martin’s gesture had been sweet. It wasn’t as if she’d passed the Pharmacology resit for him; she’d just helped him out with his revision.
‘He obviously had no complaints.’
‘ He’s called Martin.’ And she hadn’t seen him since they qualified; she really ought to make more of an effort to keep in touch. Her frown deepened. She didn’t like Niall’s sneery, condescending tone one little bit.
‘And what did Martin make of you coming here with me this weekend?’
This had gone far enough. Carrying off the pretence of having the odd lover hovering in the background might be a useful face-saving device, but she just didn’t have the stamina or the bare-faced cheek to keep it up for long.
‘I don’t know. I didn’t actually tell him. We don’t really have that sort of relationship,’ she confessed reluctantly.
‘I see.’ His next words made it pretty clear he didn’t see at all. ‘It’s just hard luck on Martin, then, if he doesn’t feel as casual as you.’
‘Why are you yelling at me?’ she asked with a mystified frown.
‘I’m not yelling.’
‘No, I’m sure you’re far too well-bred to yell,’ she accused hotly.
‘Were they his pyjamas?’
‘Who…what…?’ She no longer had the faintest idea what he was talking about.
Niall didn’t know what had possessed him to ask such a thing…only the ownership of the stripy pyjamas that had drowned her petite frame had been persistently bugging him. The furrow between his brows deepened. It wasn’t like him to get diverted by irrelevant trivialities.
‘The ones you were wearing the other morning,’ he said gruffly.
Typical! He would remember what she was wearing when she looked a sight, wouldn’t he? Mind you, he did recall the dress too and she hadn’t looked a sight then…
‘No, they weren’t Martin’s. If you must know, I’m too busy with work to have a regular boyfriend.’
‘Just a string of casual acquaintances,’ he suggested.
It was that faint curl of his sensual upper lip that made her see red. The sheer hypocrisy of his masculine condemnation—if I’d been a man, she thought angrily, he’d have been patting me on the back. The final irony was, of course, that she didn’t have a sex life to speak about, let alone sneer about! It was just his nasty imagination providing the dirt in her whiter-than-white existence.
‘It’s a lot easier to part with a casual acquaintance—or even a string of them—than a husband or wife,’ she pointed out tightly. Niall Wesley was in no position to offer her advice on relationships.
‘So you and Rowena have that much in common, at least.’
Rowena didn’t make any secret of the fact she had no intention of marrying.
‘No, I can’t even claim to have even that much in common with my sister. I’ve nothing against marriage, you see: I just think it shouldn’t be taken as
‘Rowena has excellent taste.’
Holly couldn’t help but notice with a stab of anger how swift he was to defend her sister from possible criticism. Her lips tightened.
‘It wasn’t from her.’ Suddenly she didn’t want to be the sort of woman who everyone assumed would only receive an expensive gift from her sister. Why shouldn’t she have some wealthy, besotted lover hovering solicitously in the background? She ground her bare toes into the thick rug that partly covered the dark oak boarded floor.
Niall had turned back to face her; he was frowning critically. ‘Some gift…Special sort of friend?’
‘I did him a favour,’ she responded, not much caring in her present frame of mind what Niall made of this deliberately obscure explanation. Where did he get off, anyway, with all that tight-lipped disapproval? It wasn’t any of his business if she let a man shower her with diamonds! Her eyes were drawn to the large sapphire sitting on her finger.
She had thought Martin’s gesture had been sweet. It wasn’t as if she’d passed the Pharmacology resit for him; she’d just helped him out with his revision.
‘He obviously had no complaints.’
‘ He’s called Martin.’ And she hadn’t seen him since they qualified; she really ought to make more of an effort to keep in touch. Her frown deepened. She didn’t like Niall’s sneery, condescending tone one little bit.
‘And what did Martin make of you coming here with me this weekend?’
This had gone far enough. Carrying off the pretence of having the odd lover hovering in the background might be a useful face-saving device, but she just didn’t have the stamina or the bare-faced cheek to keep it up for long.
‘I don’t know. I didn’t actually tell him. We don’t really have that sort of relationship,’ she confessed reluctantly.
‘I see.’ His next words made it pretty clear he didn’t see at all. ‘It’s just hard luck on Martin, then, if he doesn’t feel as casual as you.’
‘Why are you yelling at me?’ she asked with a mystified frown.
‘I’m not yelling.’
‘No, I’m sure you’re far too well-bred to yell,’ she accused hotly.
‘Were they his pyjamas?’
‘Who…what…?’ She no longer had the faintest idea what he was talking about.
Niall didn’t know what had possessed him to ask such a thing…only the ownership of the stripy pyjamas that had drowned her petite frame had been persistently bugging him. The furrow between his brows deepened. It wasn’t like him to get diverted by irrelevant trivialities.
‘The ones you were wearing the other morning,’ he said gruffly.
Typical! He would remember what she was wearing when she looked a sight, wouldn’t he? Mind you, he did recall the dress too and she hadn’t looked a sight then…
‘No, they weren’t Martin’s. If you must know, I’m too busy with work to have a regular boyfriend.’
‘Just a string of casual acquaintances,’ he suggested.
It was that faint curl of his sensual upper lip that made her see red. The sheer hypocrisy of his masculine condemnation—if I’d been a man, she thought angrily, he’d have been patting me on the back. The final irony was, of course, that she didn’t have a sex life to speak about, let alone sneer about! It was just his nasty imagination providing the dirt in her whiter-than-white existence.
‘It’s a lot easier to part with a casual acquaintance—or even a string of them—than a husband or wife,’ she pointed out tightly. Niall Wesley was in no position to offer her advice on relationships.
‘So you and Rowena have that much in common, at least.’
Rowena didn’t make any secret of the fact she had no intention of marrying.
‘No, I can’t even claim to have even that much in common with my sister. I’ve nothing against marriage, you see: I just think it shouldn’t be taken as
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