The Blind-Date Bride

Zack paused to consider. His eyes beamed a speculative challenge as he answered, “Whatever two strangers want to make of it.”

“Without a tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow I’m gone.”

Well, that was laying it on the line! “Then I’ll just take this one-night experience with the man behind the name,” she countered, pride insisting that his schedule did not affect her expectations from this blind date, which had been zero before she met him anyway.

Sexual invitation simmered back at her. “I wonder if you will.”

The Blind-Date Bride

Emma Darcy

MILLS & BOON

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CONTENTS

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

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER ONE

A BLIND Date…

Zack Freeman rolled his eyes at the idea of putting himself out for a woman he hadn’t seen, knew nothing about, and would never meet again, given the work schedule he had lined up.

‘She’s a stunner,’ his old friend, Pete Raynor, assured him.

‘Stunners are two a penny in my world. All of them relentlessly ambitious.’

‘That might be so in L.A., but this is home time in Australia, remember? Livvy’s sister is something else.’

‘Like what?’

His derisive tone earned a chiding shake of the head. ‘You’re jaded, mate. Which is why you’re here spending a week with me. A night out with a gorgeous down-to-earth Aussie woman will do you good. Trust me on this.’

Zack winced at the argument, turning his gaze to the soothing view of the sea rolling its waves onto Forresters Beach. They were sitting on the balcony of a house Pete had recently acquired—his getaway from the pressure of being a dealer for an international bank. It was only an hour and a half away from Sydney, the perfect place to relax, he’d told Zack, persuading him into this week together, catching up on old times.

They’d been friends since school days and had always kept in touch, despite their different career paths. Pete was geared to competitive risk-taking while Zack had sought the creative fields opened up by computer technology. He’d built up a company that was now in hot demand for producing special effects for movies.

But he didn’t want to think about work yet. Tomorrow he was booked on a Qantas flight to Los Angeles and he’d be getting his mind prepared for a series of important meetings, but today was still about recapturing the carefree days of their youth; eating hamburgers and French fries for lunch after a morning of riding the waves on surfboards and baking their bodies in the sun.

It had been a great week; not having to impress anyone or win anyone over. He and Pete had done all the things they used to do—playing chess, challenging each other to listen to their choice of music, drinking beer, swapping stories…just having fun.

He felt wonderfully lazy and didn’t want to give up the feeling. Not until he absolutely had to. Here it was, Saturday afternoon Down Under, midsummer, and the living was easy. He didn’t need a blind date. Didn’t want one, either. His broad chest rose and fell in a contented sigh. This was more than good enough for him.

‘Pete, I don’t mind that you’ve got a date with your girlfriend. Go out and enjoy yourself. You don’t have to look after me. I’ll be perfectly happy with my own company.’

‘It’s our last night.’

Pete’s unhappy frown pricked Zack’s conscience.

‘I can’t get out of it. It’s Livvy’s birthday,’ he went on, making it clear that Zack’s refusal to go along with the plan put him into conflict.

The week had been special.

Was he being a spoilsport, ducking out on sharing this last night?

Livvy Trent, according to Pete, was very special. He’d met her walking her dog on this very beach. She even had a head for finance, holding quite a responsible position in the Treasury Department and living here on the central coast because she worked two days in Sydney and three in Newcastle. This could develop into a serious relationship, which was fine for Pete who was getting close to burn-out and looking for more from life than a tight focus on the world’s money markets.

Zack was currently riding a high wave of success with a string of big movies featuring the special effects created by his company. No way was he ready to ease down from that creamy crest. He didn’t have the time or the inclination to link up with a woman who wanted any kind of commitment from him. Too demanding. Too distracting. Besides, he was only thirty-three. He wanted what he had achieved. He wanted more of it. Finding a special woman could wait.

‘I tell you, Zack, if I hadn’t got to know Livvy first, I’d probably be chasing after her sister,’ Pete ran on, intent on persuasion. ‘Catherine is a knock-out.’

‘So how come she’s available on a Saturday night?’ Zack dryly commented.

‘Oh, same as you. Taking time out. Spending the weekend with her sister.’

‘And I guess Livvy doesn’t want to leave her alone, either.’

‘No, she doesn’t.’ Realising he’d been tripped into the truth, Pete screwed his face into a hangdog appeal. ‘So help me out here, will you, Zack? Please?’

He really cared for this woman. Zack hoped the feeling was returned and Pete wasn’t being seen in terms of a good catch. Which he certainly was, financially. And he wasn’t bad in the looks department, either. He was shorter than Zack but his physique was good, no flab on him.

His dark hair was receding at the temples and he’d had one of those ultra-short buzz cuts, defying the signs of encroaching baldness. Definitely a testosterone thing, Zack thought, but it had the advantage of never looking untidy, not like the wild mess of his black curls, although he figured they gave him an artistic image which was probably helpful in his business.

Pete had always had a very expressive face, not exactly handsome, but likeable. He had an infectious grin and his green eyes could quickly radiate a mischief that invited fun. Zack knew his own humour was more quirky, challenging to a lot of people, though Pete had always understood it.

Dark, he called it, often adding that Zack had to have a dark and twisted soul to think up some of the special effects he created for movies. His olive skin tanned darkly, his eyes were dark, his teeth were very white—definitely a vampire in a previous life, Pete joked.

Whatever…on a surface basis, women were more drawn to him than they were to Pete. It was a fact of life outside of his control. He just hoped Livvy Trent would treat his friend right tonight—no roving eye.

‘Okay. I’m in,’ he conceded. ‘As long as you accept that if I find this Catherine a total bore, I’ll make an excuse to come home early.’

‘Done!’ Pete agreed, grinning his head off.

No problem in his mind.

Zack relaxed. Let tonight take care of itself, he thought, having dealt himself a ready bolthole.

A blind date…

Catherine Trent gave her sister a look designed to kill the idea on the spot. Stone dead. This weekend with Livvy was a much needed time out from men—one in particular—and even being polite to any male at the moment would be an effort she didn’t want to make.

The look didn’t work. It spurred Livvy into attack mode, eyes flashing the light of battle. ‘You know your problem, Catherine? You’ve been fixated on Stuart Carstairs for so long, you’ve developed tunnel vision. Can’t even see other men could be more attractive. And a lot better for you, too.’

So find me one, Catherine thought derisively, having done her own looking each time Stuart had strayed, then forgiving him and taking him back because there simply wasn’t anyone else she wanted to be with. Compared to Stuart, other men were dull, but this last infidelity went beyond the bounds of acceptability. For him to snatch a bit of sex with a graphic artist in her own office, a woman who worked on the accounts she handled…that was too bitter a blow to her pride.

This had to be the end of their relationship. The final end. All the sexual charisma in the world didn’t make up for a long, continuing string of hurts, especially this worst one, right under her nose. It was time to let go, time to move on, but to what?

‘I’m not up to a blind date, Livvy,’ she said flatly.

‘Well, I’m not going to leave you here to mope alone,’ came the belligerent retort.

‘I won’t mope. I’ll watch videos.’

‘Wallowing in escapism. I’ll bet Stuart Carstairs isn’t. Good old action man will be unzipping his trousers for…’

‘Stop it!’

‘No, I won’t. He tried it on with me, too, you know. Your own sister.’

Shocked out of her irritation with Livvy’s unwelcome nagging, Catherine shot a sharp look at her sister, unsure if she was speaking the truth or wanting to blacken Stuart’s character beyond the pale. ‘You never told me that before.’

A fierce conviction blazed back at her. ‘I’m telling you now. Get rid of him. Get over him, Catherine. He might have the gift of the gab and he might be a great performer in bed, but he only ever thinks of himself. You’re an ego trip for him. And every time you take him back you feed his ego more. Holding on to him is sick.’

Catherine frowned over these discomforting assertions. Was it sick to keep wanting a man who couldn’t be trusted with other women? Stuart swore she was the only one who really counted in his life, but was that enough to hang on to? Obviously she couldn’t count too much when he was hot for someone else, even her own sister.

‘I won’t hold on this time,’ she muttered.

‘Then let me see you take some positive action in another direction. Like partnering this other guy tonight,’ Livvy strongly argued.

‘I’m not in the mood.’

‘You never are. Except for Stuart Carstairs who continually does the dirty on you. You’ve wasted four years on a dyed-in-the-wool philanderer and it’s only ever going to be more of the same, him having it off with whomever he fancies, while you…’

‘I told you it’s over.’

‘Until he soft soaps you again.’

‘No. I mean it.’

‘Fine! So you should be celebrating being free from him, giving yourself the chance to eye off someone else.’

She was just like her dog with a bone. Catherine looked down at the miniature fox terrier sitting by Livvy’s feet and was grateful he wasn’t yapping at her, too. She did need to be free of Stuart, but in her own mind and heart first. Plunging into dating would only throw up comparisons that would keep him painfully alive in her thoughts.

In fact, Livvy had just spoiled her attempt to forget him for a while. Here they were, seated on the balcony of her sister’s apartment, overlooking the Brisbane Water at Gosford, idly watching the boats sailing out from the yacht club, feeling pleasantly replete from a fine lunch at Iguana Joe’s, during which Livvy had raved about her wonderful new boyfriend, Peter Raynor. Why couldn’t she just be happy with her own personal life instead of attacking Catherine’s?

‘This guy has been a friend of Pete’s since school days. Now that tells you he values the people he likes. He’s not a user and a dumper,’ Livvy ran on, relentlessly intent on persuasion.

‘Friendship between two men has no relevance whatsoever to how either of them view or treat women,’ Catherine tersely commented, wanting an end to the argument.

‘Right! So now you’re cultivating a negative attitude. Not even giving people a chance. And I might add Pete treats me beautifully.’

‘Lucky you! But I don’t want to be stuck with a guy I don’t know and might not like.’

‘You like Pete. His friend should be at least an interesting person. The food at The Galley is always good. It’s my birthday, and the best birthday present you could give me is to see you enjoying yourself without Stuart Carstairs.’

‘I have been. With you. Before you started on this blind date kick,’ Catherine snapped in exasperation. ‘As for birthday gifts, I thought you liked the bracelet I bought you…’

‘I do.’

‘…and the lunch at the restaurant of your choice. Wasn’t that birthday treat enough for you?’

Livvy’s eloquent shrug was apologetic but it didn’t stop her from turning the screws. ‘I just hate going out and leaving you alone, knowing you’re miserable. I won’t be able to enjoy the evening with Pete if you don’t come with me.’

Emotional blackmail.

But there was caring behind it, Catherine grudgingly conceded, and she didn’t want to spoil any part of her younger sister’s birthday. Livvy had always been a pet, her naturally happy nature making her a pleasure to be with. Their parents were away on an overseas trip, touring Canada this time, so it was up to Catherine to make up for their not being here, showering love on their younger daughter. She thought she’d done enough but…would it really hurt to make the effort of being pleasant to a stranger tonight?

‘It would be such fun, dressing up together,’ Livvy pressed.

‘I didn’t bring dress-up clothes with me,’ Catherine remembered, not so much seeking an excuse but simply stating the truth.

‘You can try mine on.’ The eager offer was rushed out. ‘In fact, I’ve got a little black number that would look fantastic on you. It’s a jersey so it doesn’t matter you’re more curvy than me. It will stretch to fit.’

More curvy and taller. And their taste in clothes was different. Which was why they’d never swapped or borrowed. But what she wore tonight was not an issue, Catherine decided, as long as she pleased Livvy.

Twenty-nine today. Her little sister…who had her life more in order than Catherine had managed in her thirty-one years. Still, Livvy’s career in the public service carried minimal stress and steady promotion, given a reasonable level of performance. The advertising world was far more cut-throat and Catherine spent most of her working days living on the edge.

Different lives, different needs, different natures, different…even in looks.

Livvy’s hair had been very blond in her childhood and she’d kept it blond with the help of a good hair-dresser. She kept it short, too, its thick waves cleverly cut and styled to ripple attractively to just below her ears. Having inherited their father’s Nordic blue eyes and skin that tanned to a lovely golden honey, she always looked sunny and vibrantly alive.

Dark and intense were the words more often attached to Catherine. Her hair was a very deep rich brown, as wavy as Livvy’s but worn long. There never seemed to be time in her life for regular hair-dresser appointments. Currently it fell to below her shoulder-blades. Luckily she only had to wash it for it to look reasonably good.

Her eyes were more amber than brown, like their mother’s, but her eyebrows and lashes were almost black, giving them a dark look. The only feature she’d inherited from their father was height. She was a head taller than Livvy who had his colouring but their mother’s more petite figure.

Different to each other but family nonetheless.

Close family.

And Catherine liked to see Livvy happy.

‘Okay, I’ll go with you. But I’m taking my own car so if Pete’s friend is a total disaster I can come home by myself whenever I like.’

Sheer delight lit up Livvy’s pretty face.

Yes, it was worth the effort, Catherine thought, and resigned herself to sharing an evening with a man who would probably bore her to death.

A blind date…

She looked down at the little black and white fox terrier, sleeping blissfully at Livvy’s feet. He’d been called Luther after Martin Luther King who’d done all he could to integrate the black and white races in America.

Bringing people together.

Catherine smiled at the dog who’d certainly brought her sister and Pete together. Maybe she needed a dog in her life. It was surely a better means of meeting men than Livvy’s current plot. Bound to provide more lasting and devoted company, too. A steadfast, uncomplicated love.

Yes.

She’d give up Stuart and buy herself a dog.

A much better solution to her problems than a blind date.

CHAPTER TWO

PETE insisted they set off at a quarter to eight, even though it was barely a ten-minute drive around the coast to the beach town of Terrigal where they were dining in style tonight. Livvy and Catherine were to meet them at the restaurant at eight, which probably meant anything up to an hour later. Zack had little faith in female punctuality, particularly with social evenings. Still, the less time he had to spend with his blind date, the better.

Terrigal was a prettier beach than Forresters with its row of Norfolk Pines lining the foreshore, but it was tame in comparison with none of the wild, dangerous surf that stirred the sense of primitive elements at play. This was a highly civilised beach; calm water, smooth sand, edged by lawns, a large resort hotel and many fashionable boutiques and restaurants. A yuppie place, not a getaway, Zack thought, glad that Pete had chosen to buy a house on an untamed shoreline.

The restaurant they were heading for was called The Galley, built above the sailing club on the other side of town and facing towards the Haven, a sheltered little bay where yachts rode at anchor. The main street traffic was heavy and slow. By the time they got through it and reached the parking area adjacent to The Galley, it was precisely eight o’clock.

Drinks at the bar coming up, Zack anticipated. He watched a zippy red convertible coming down the incline to the car park as Pete was collecting a celebratory bottle of Dom Perignon from the back seat of his beloved BMW. Had to be a Mazda MX-5, Zack decided, and was surprised to see two women occupying the open front seats. It was the kind of car guys would cruise in. Women were always worried about their hairstyles being blown awry.

‘Told you they’d be on time,’ Pete crowed, nodding to the car Zack was watching. ‘That’s Catherine driving.’

A long-haired brunette. The blonde in the passenger seat had to be Livvy. ‘Is it her car?’ he asked, finding himself interested by the unexpected.

‘Yes. Livvy calls it Catherine’s rebellion.’

‘Against what?’

Pete shrugged. ‘Being a woman, I guess.’

Zack rolled his eyes at him. ‘You mean I’m about to be faced with a raging feminist.’

The answering grin was unrepentant. ‘More a femme fatale. Just watch your knees. They might buckle any minute now.’

Not a chance, Zack thought.

She parked the convertible right at the end of the row of cars, the furthest point away from the entrance to the restaurant. Ensuring it wouldn’t get boxed in, Zack decided, in case she wanted an easy getaway.

Which makes two of us, darling.

He and Pete waited at the BMW for the two women to join them. The black roof of the red convertible lifted from its slot at the back of the car and was locked in at the front. The blonde emerged first, waving excitedly at Pete. She looked very cute, wearing a clingy blue dress with shoestring shoulder straps. A pocket Venus for Pete, Zack thought, smiling at his choice.

Well, Catherine, strut your stuff, he silently challenged as a long rippling mane of very lustrous brown hair rose from the driver’s side, the kind of hair that would look good on a pillow, Feel good, too. A tingle of temptation touched his fingertips. He clenched his hands to wipe it away. This was not the time to let a woman get to him. So she had great hair. The workings of the brain under it probably had no appeal at all.

She turned to close the door and lock the car. Zack’s attention was galvanised. Pete hadn’t lied. He hadn’t even exaggerated. Catherine Trent was a stunner. Helen of Troy came to mind. Here was a face that could definitely launch a thousand ships. It seemed to simmer with sexual promise, aided by the erotic positioning of a deep pink flower over her right ear.

The tingle in his fingertips moved to his groin and there was nothing physical he could do to remove it. He tried willing it away. Impossible mission. She moved to the back of the car to join up with her sister and the full view of her was enough to blow any willpower right out of Zack’s head. Even his side vision was affected. Livvy Trent blurred. Only Catherine remained in sharp focus.

She had a mesmerising hour-glass figure, mouth-wateringly lush femininity encased in a slinky little black dress with a short flirty skirt that barely reached mid-thigh on long shapely legs that Zack thought would feel fantastic wrapped around him. She was tall—tall enough to wear flat black shoes, though they looked like ballet slippers with straps crossed around her ankles. Somehow they were erotic, too, more so than kinky stiletto heels.

His gaze leapt back to her fascinating face as she came nearer. A slight dimple in her chin, a sultry full-lipped mouth, straight nose, angled cheekbones that highlighted the unusual shape of her eyes, more triangular than almond, amber irises, glinting golden between their black frame of thick lashes. Cat’s eyes, he thought, but they didn’t conjure up the image of some tame domestic cat, more an infinitely dangerous panther, capable of clawing him apart.

And why he should find that idea exciting he didn’t know. Didn’t think about it. It just was. He felt something dark and primitive stir inside him, wanting to take up the challenge she was beaming at him, wanting her submission to the desires she aroused, wanting to possess every part of her until he’d consumed the power she was exerting over him.

A Class-A hunk, Catherine thought when she first saw Pete’s friend. Tall, dark and handsome with a body brimful of strong masculinity, his tight black jeans and the short-sleeved, open-necked white shirt showing off his impressive physique. Lots of surface sex appeal, but undoubtedly a bloated male ego to go with it.

‘Wow!’ Livvy murmured approvingly. ‘Pete’s friend sure measures up.’

Probably worked out at a gym in front of mirrors. Catherine was determinedly unimpressed, yet as they strolled towards the two men, a flutter started up in the pit of her stomach. It was the way he was looking at her, she argued to herself, assessing her female assets which, unfortunately, were on blatant display in Livvy’s dress.

She hadn’t cared earlier, even letting Livvy put the silly pink flower in her hair. It matched the spray of pink flowers featured on the black fabric of the dress, spreading diagonally from the left shoulder to the hem of the skirt. Livvy was into flowers in her hair this summer, using them as accessories to her outfits, but it wasn’t Catherine’s style. Not that it mattered tonight, except…she hoped Pete’s friend wasn’t seeing it as some flirtatious come-on.

On the other hand, if he wasn’t too full of himself, he was certainly attractive enough to flirt with. Though that could be a dangerous play. She wasn’t used to partnering a powerfully built man, and as she got closer, this man seemed to emanate power, the kind of big male dominant power that suddenly sent weak little quivers down her thighs.