Chapter 15
15
S am waited for the knock she knew would come.
As if on cue, a loud rapping sounded at her bedroom door before it flew open and Ebony barged in.
“Hey you. What’s going on?” Ebony threw herself face down on Sam’s bed and rested her chin in her hands. “Tell me everything and don’t leave out a single detail.”
Sam smiled and wondered how she’d survived the last few weeks without their chats. They’d shared every detail of their lives for as long as she could remember, yet how could she begin to describe the strange feelings Dylan aroused. She could barely admit them to herself.
Sam shrugged, aiming for nonchalant. “Not much to tell.”
Ebony threw a pillow at her. “Don’t give me that. You’re glowing, and it can’t be the smoggy Melbourne air that’s caused it.”
Sam sat cross-legged on the floor next to the bed and stared up at her best friend. “What can I say? I love my job.”
“You sure it’s just the job you love?” Ebony wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.
“What else could it be?” Sam lowered her gaze so her friend couldn’t see the truth in her eyes.
“Uh-oh,” Ebony groaned. “It’s worse than I first thought. You’ve fallen for him, haven’t you?”
“Don’t be silly,” fibbed Sam. “I’m enjoying the challenge of working as a P.A. rather than sitting around and waiting for my crazy parents to marry me off to some decrepit old fool.”
“Speaking of which…” Ebony trailed off and Sam looked up, the furtive expression on her friend’s face far from reassuring.
“What have they done this time?”
Ebony sighed and rolled her eyes. “That rat Quade told them you and Dylan are joined at the hip, and should be announcing your engagement any day now.”
“What’s wrong with that? That’s one of the reasons I took this job, to get them off my case.”
Ebony held her hand up. “Not so fast, babe. Your folks are saying if the announcement doesn’t happen ASAP they’re going to ‘send Max down to Melbourne to drag you back to Brisbane and up the aisle, no excuses this time’, end of quote.”
“ What ?” Sam leaped to her feet and started pacing the room. “They can’t seriously believe I’d consider marrying that old fogey? I’ve already told them how I feel.”
“You know your folks. They won’t take no for an answer.” Ebony shrugged. “They expect you to start acting like a princess, sooner rather than later.”
“How did you hear this?” Sam stopped stomping and stared at her friend.
Ebony blushed. “Peter told me.”
“Don’t tell me you still have a thing for my buffoon of a brother?”
Ebony shook her head as the rose colour staining her cheeks deepened. “No, we’re just friends. I happened to run into him at a charity dinner last week, that’s all.”
Sam snorted. “You’re taste in men is deteriorating, as much as I’d love to have you as a sister-in-law.”
Ebony unfolded her long legs from the bed and stood. “Hey, it’s not my taste in men we’re discussing here, it’s yours.”
She laid a hand on Sam’s shoulder as her voice lowered to a conspiratorial level. “Is it serious with Dylan?”
Sam paused before answering. If she told her best friend the truth, would Ebony accidentally let something slip to Dylan? They’d been friends for a long time and Ebony was renowned for her ‘slip of the tongue’ comments.
Sam knew Dylan was probably toying with her. Heck, he didn’t have a reputation as one of Australia’s most eligible bachelors for nothing. So what if he’d kissed her a few times? He probably did it every day of the week with women in his sphere. She’d been the stupid one for reading more into it and she didn’t need her best friend reinforcing it.
“Dylan’s a nice guy and I enjoy working with him.” She hoped her evasive answer would satisfy her curious friend.
She hadn’t lied—she just hadn’t told the whole truth.
Ebony tut-tutted. “I know you, Sammy. You’re hiding something. And I could’ve sworn you wanted to tear my eyes out earlier when I threw myself at Dylan.” She chuckled. “Why else do you think I did it? Nothing like testing the water.”
Sam grimaced, remembering her earlier jealousy. She hoped she wasn’t that transparent; no wonder Dylan had looked so smug.
“Test all you like, Bony .”
Ebony’s chuckles grew to raucous laughter. “You are jealous. Though don’t worry, I’m not interested in Dylan. I have other fish to fry and they’re tastier than him.”
Sam doubted that. She’d never met a man who compared to Dylan Harmon. It wasn’t just his charisma and his looks, not to mention the fact he kissed like a dream. He exuded an indefinable quality that attracted her against her better judgement.
“So what are you going to do about your parents?”
“As long as they stay in Brisbane and keep that sleaze Max away, I’m safe.” Sam paused for a moment, then clicked her fingers as an idea flashed into her head. “That’s where you come in.”
“Huh?”
Sam wrapped an arm around Ebony’s shoulder. “As my best friend, I consider it your duty to look after my interests.”
“What do you think I’ve been doing? Don’t forget who got you this job in the first place.”
“I know, but I need your help. If you could feed back some vital info, like how close I am to Dylan, how an announcement isn’t far off, how happy I am in Melbourne with him, then wouldn’t that assuage their curiosity? You’ll be reinforcing what they’ve heard from Quade and considering how close we are, it would mean more coming from you.”
Ebony’s eyes narrowed. “And how am I suppose to do this?”
“Through your good friend Peter, of course.” Sam snickered. “I’m sure you could arrange another accidental meeting.”
Once again, colour suffused her friend’s cheeks. “Okay, smarty-pants. Maybe I have got a thing for your brother, and our meeting wasn’t so coincidental. But lying to him doesn’t exactly help my cause. What if he finds out? He won’t look twice at me.”
“Please, Eb,” Sam cajoled. “You don’t want me married off to an ancient creep like Max and whisked away to Europe, do you?”
“As if that would happen,” Ebony snorted. “Max is as Australian as you.”
“Who thinks like my father, a refugee of Russia’s fifteenth century. So, what do you say? Will you do it?”
A mischievous gleam shone from Ebony’s dark eyes. “Fine, I’ll do it. On one condition.”
Sam desperately needed Ebony’s co-operation if her plan was to succeed, but she’d never been any good at paying a price.
Wasn’t that what dragged her into this mess in the first place?
Her parents, thanks to their old-fashioned European values, felt that she owed them and her heritage in some way. And, according to them, the only way to do it was marry a fellow descendent of the Russian aristocracy and produce a dozen royal heirs.
“What’s the condition?”
“You put in a good word for me with Peter.”
Sam sighed in relief. Pointing out Ebony’s good points to her Neanderthal brother would be a small price to pay for her friend’s co-operation.
“No worries. Though personally, I think you need your head read.”
“No accounting for taste, is there?”
Sam heard the uncertainty in her friend’s voice and remorse flooded her. Who was she to judge matters of the heart? Look at her predicament with Dylan, her billionaire boss.
She hugged Ebony. “I’m glad you’re here, Eb. It’ll be great catching up. I’ve missed you.”
“Ditto, girlfriend.” She squirmed out of Sam’s arms. “Enough of the mushy stuff. I’ll leave you to unpack. See you at dinner.”
As Ebony left the room, Sam wondered if she’d lost her mind. She worked for a man she grew to like more with each passing day, lying to her family about the true relationship they shared, and hoped the two tall tales would never intersect.
She must be nuts. Or desperate .
All she had to do was last a few more months, then she’d tell her parents the truth: that she’d never been involved with Dylan, that she’d been working for him and proved she could earn a living and eke out an existence without the protection of a man.
Surely they would have to believe her then?