Rory's Proposal Read Free

once at the club playing tennis. Devon had commented on his good looks.
    ‘Now there’s a dish. He’s everything a woman could ever want isn’t he? Handsome, stinking rich and most certainly fit. You’d need to be a socialite to get off with him.’
    Obviously, you just have to be a hairdresser to get banged by him, with his car, of course. He’s clean-shaven, fresh-faced and very appealing, more than very appealing in fact. I bet he doesn’t wear Marks and Spencer pyjamas, if he wears any at all that is. I feel myself come over all hot. That’s what happens when you hit thirty, your hormones dance all over the place. That’s my excuse anyway. The truth is it is most likely two years of crap sex. No, don’t think about it, don’t think about it but how can I not think about it? I’d like to think it’s my overwhelming sexuality that tips Luke over the edge after just fifteen seconds but even I’m not that naïve. Perhaps I’ll discuss it with him tonight over some wine, organic of course.
    ‘You should try that Masters and Johnsons grip. You know, where you grip the shaft and squeeze,’ Rosalind had suggested. ‘Personally though, I think you should be grateful. Anything over five minutes and I feel I deserve a medal.’
    Considering just stroking K-Y Jelly on his penis has been known to have Luke coming all over the sheets I didn’t think giving it a squeeze was such a great idea.
    I pull my mind back to the present. Best not to be thinking about sex when facing the dish that just banged me up the arse. I glimpse the squash racquet and sports bag in the Audi. At least I can be sure that he will have insurance. Thank God. I look at my car and see a brake light is smashed. Oh, that’s just great. Now I’ve got a faulty exhaust and a broken brake light, if the police don’t do me now they never will.
    ‘You reversed into me,’ he says calmly.
    What? I know for a fact that he reversed into me. I’m not letting him get away with that. That’s typical of posh rich plonkers isn’t it? They don’t want to pay for anything.
    ‘I think it was you who reversed into me,’ I protest.
    ‘I was partway out when you suddenly revved up and reversed,’ he says, his bright blue eyes dancing mischievously.
    ‘I didn’t rev up, I have a hole in my exhaust,’ I say and immediately regret it.
    His raises his eyebrows and looks into my eyes.
    ‘You do,’ he says with a smile.
    How does he manage to make a hole in an exhaust sound so sexy? I blush.
    ‘My boyfriend’s a solicitor,’ I say stupidly and then immediately wish I could take it back.
    ‘I’m surprised he didn’t advise you about the exhaust then.’
    Damn. My legs turn to jelly and I lean on my Clio for support.
    ‘Are you okay? You look a bit shaken up. Why don’t we sit down with a hot drink and we can sort out the car details? There’s a place around the corner, Georgie’s, do you know it?’
    ‘No, really I’ll be fine,’ I insist.
    ‘It’s the least I can do after you reversed into me,’ he says with a wide smile. ‘It’s only around the corner, you’ll be quite safe.’
    I hate to say that being shaken up is more to do with missing breakfast, kettle bell swinging and Devon’s sparkling solitaire than the accident. Two minutes later we are sitting in Georgie’s and I am surveying him over a steaming mug of tea. He’s warm and friendly and not in the least bit stuck up as I had imagined he might be. He’s deliciously attractive and I’m finding it hard to take my eyes off him.
    ‘Do you want something to eat?’ he asks. ‘It’s lunchtime.’
    Ooh, the temptation. The only place Luke and I go to is Healthy Juice. I really shouldn’t be eating here, not on our regime. Christ, I sound like I’ve escaped from rehab. The smell of frying bacon seduces me; I can have a couple of rashers can’t I? It’s not like I’m going to have a massive coronary is it? I’ve just worked through a kettle bell session after all and if