The Blind-date Proposal

Praise for JESSICA HART:

About A BRIDE FOR BARRA CREEK

“Jessica Hart pens a gripping tale….”

—Romantic Times

About TEMPORARY ENGAGEMENT

“Jessica Hart creates…characters who energize the plot and keep you laughing out loud.”

—Romantic Times

About KISSING SANTA

“Jessica Hart delivers delightful reading….”

—Romantic Times

Harlequin Romance® is thrilled to present the second book in this lively new trilogy from JESSICA HART:

They’re on the career ladder, but just one step away from the altar!

Meet Phoebe, Kate and Bella…

When their best friend gets married, these friends suddenly realize that they’re fast approaching thirty and haven’t yet found Mr. Right—or even Mr. Maybe!

Living together in the center of London is a lot of fun, but they refuse to admit that they spend more time gossiping and groaning about the lack of eligible men than actually looking for one….

But that’s about to change.

If fate won’t lend a hand, they’ll make their own luck. Whether it’s a hired date or an engagement of convenience, they’re determined that the next wedding invitation they see will be one of their own!

Look out for Bella’s story in Harlequin Romance®

A Whirlwind Engagement (#3765)

The Blind-Date Proposal

Jessica Hart

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ONE

‘WHAT time do you call this?’

Finn looked up, scowling, as Kate knocked on his door with some trepidation.

She looked at her watch. ‘It’s…er…nearly quarter to ten.’

‘And you’re supposed to start at what time?’

‘Nine o’clock.’

Kate was horribly aware of her pink face. She was hot and flustered, having run up the escalator from the tube and all the way to the office, where she had panted past the surprised receptionist to fall into the lift. Somewhere along the line she had laddered her tights, and a tentative glance in the mirror was enough to confirm that her hair, a mass of wild brown curls hard to control at best of times, was tangled and windblown.

Not a good start to the day.

She was at a distinct disadvantage compared to Finn, too. In his grey suit and his pristine shirt, her new boss had always seemed to Kate buttoned up in more ways than one. He had a severe face, steely grey eyes and strong dark brows which were usually pulled together in a frown and whenever he looked at Kate, like now, his mouth was clamped together in a disapproving line.

‘I know I’m late, and I’m really sorry,’ she said breathlessly and, oblivious to Finn’s discouraging expression, she launched into a long and convoluted explanation of how she had befriended an elderly lady confused by the underground system and intimidated by the rudeness of officials.

‘I couldn’t just leave her there,’ she finished at last, ‘so I took her to Paddington and showed her where to find her train.’

‘Paddington not being on your way here?’

‘Not exactly…’

‘One might even say that it was in completely the opposite direction,’ Finn went on in the same snide tone.

‘Not quite opposite,’ said Kate, mentally consulting her tube map.

‘So you got halfway here and then turned and headed off in a completely different direction, even though you must have known that there was no way you’d be able to get to work on time?’

‘I had to,’ Kate protested. ‘She was so upset. There was no reason for everyone to be so rude to her,’ she remembered indignantly. ‘Her English wasn’t that good, and she couldn’t be expected to know where she was going and how to get there. How would that ticket collector like it if he had to find his way around…oh, I don’t know…the Amazon, say…where he didn’t know the language and nobody could be bothered to help him?’

Finn looked at her wearily. ‘You’re mistaking me for someone who cares,’ he said. ‘The only thing I care about right now is keeping this company going, and it’s not that easy with a PA who turns up whenever she feels like it! Alison makes a point of arriving ten minutes before nine every day,’ he added pointedly. ‘She’s always reliable.’

Not so reliable that she didn’t break her leg on a skiing holiday, Kate thought, but didn’t say out loud. She was sick of hearing about Alison, Finn’s perfect PA who was discreet and efficient and immaculately dressed and who reputedly typed at the speed of light. She could probably read Finn’s mind too, Kate had decided sourly after he had shouted at her for not being able to find a file that he himself had dumped onto her desk. Alison’s desk, of course, was always tidy.

The only marvel was that Alison had been careless enough to break her leg, leaving Finn to get through eight weeks without her.

He wasn’t finding it easy. Already two temps had left in tears, unable to cope with the impossible standards Alison had set. Kate was just surprised that she had hung in as long as she had. This was her third week and, judging by Finn’s expression, it might well be her last.

She wasn’t surprised the others had given up. Finn McBride gave a whole new dimension to the notion of grumpiness and he had an unpleasantly sarcastic edge to his tongue. If she hadn’t been desperate for a job, she would have been tempted to walk out on him as well.

‘I said I was sorry,’ she said a little sullenly. ‘Not that I should have to apologise for community spirit,’ she went on, still too fired up by her encounter that morning to be able to summon up the correct degree of subservience that no doubt came naturally to Alison.

Finn was unimpressed. His cold grey eyes raked her from head to foot, taking in every detail of her tangled hair and dishevelled clothes and stopping with exasperation on her laddered tights.

‘I encourage my staff to do what I pay them to do,’ he said frigidly, ‘and that’s what they do. You, on the other hand, appear to think that I should pay you to breeze in and distract everyone else in the office all day.’

Kate gaped at the unfairness of it. She had made efforts to get to know the rest of the staff, but without any great success. They didn’t seem to be great ones for gossiping and, on the few occasions she had managed to strike up a conversation, Finn had been safely shut in his office. He must have X-ray eyes if he had noticed her talking to anyone!

‘I don’t distract anyone,’ she protested.

‘It sounds that way to me,’ said Finn. ‘You’re always out in the corridor or in the other offices chatting.’

‘It’s called social interaction,’ said Kate, provoked. ‘It’s what humans do, not that you’d know that of course. It’s like working with robots in this office,’ she went on, forgetting for a moment how much she needed this job. ‘I’m lucky if I get a good morning from you, and even that I have to translate from a grunt!’

The dark brows twitched together into a terrifying glare. ‘Alison never complains.’

‘Maybe Alison likes being treated like just another piece of office equipment,’ she said tartly. ‘It wouldn’t kill you to show a little interest occasionally.’

Finn glowered at her, and Kate wondered whether he was so unused to anyone daring to argue with him that he was taken aback.

If so, he soon recovered. ‘I haven’t time to waste the day bolstering your ego,’ he snapped.

‘It doesn’t take long to be pleasant.’ Kate refused to be cowed now. ‘You could always start with something easy like “how are you?”, or “have a nice weekend”,’ she suggested. ‘And then, when you’d got the hang of that, you could work up to trickier phrases like “thank you for all your help today”.’

‘I can’t see me having much need of that one while you’re around,’ said Finn nastily. ‘And frankly, even if I did, I don’t see why I should change my habits for you. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m the boss here, so if you can’t cope without constant attention, you’d better say so now and I’ll get Personnel to find me another temp for Monday!’

That was enough to pull Kate up short. She really couldn’t afford to lose this job. The agency had been reluctant enough to send her as it was and, if she messed this up, she’d be lucky if they didn’t drop her from their books.

‘I can cope,’ she said quickly. ‘I just don’t like it.’

‘You don’t have to like it,’ said Finn tersely. ‘You just have to get on with it. Now, can we get on? We’ve wasted quite enough time this morning.’

He barely allowed Kate time to take off her coat before she had to endure a long and exhausting session being dictated to at top speed without so much as a suggestion that she might like a cup of coffee before she started. What with befriending old ladies and diversions to Paddington, she hadn’t had time to grab her usual cappuccino from the Italian coffee bar by the tube station, and the craving for caffeine did nothing to improve her temper.

She simmered as her pen raced over the page—at this rate she would get repetitive strain injury—and could barely restrain a sigh of relief when the phone rang. A breather at last!

Holding her aching wrist with exaggerated care, so that Finn might take the hint and slow down—although there was fat chance of that!—Kate studied him surreptitiously under her lashes. He was listening to the person on the other end of the phone, grunting the occasional acknowledgement, and absently drawing heavy black boxes on a piece of paper on the desk in front of him.

Doodling was supposed to be highly revealing about your personality. What did black boxes mean? Kate wondered. Probably indicative of someone deeply repressed. That would fit with his closed expression and that reserved uptight air of his.

Although not with that air of fierce energy.

Or his mouth, come to think of it.

Kate jerked her eyes quickly away. She looked instead at the framed photograph that stood on his desk, the only personal touch in the otherwise austerely efficient office. From where she sat, she could only see the stand, but she knew it showed an absolutely beautiful woman with dark hair and enormous dark blue eyes, holding the most gorgeous baby, and both smiling at the camera.

Finn’s wife, Kate had assumed, marvelling that he had had enough social skills to ask anyone to marry him, let alone a beauty like that. It was hard to imagine him smiling or kissing or even holding a baby, let alone making love.

Bizarre thought. An odd feeling snaked down Kate’s spine and she shook herself slightly, only to find herself looking straight into Finn’s glacial grey eyes. He had finished his phone call while she was distracted and was watching her with an expression of exasperated resignation.

‘Are you awake?’

‘Yes.’ Faint colour tinged Kate’s cheeks as she sat up straighter and picked up her notebook once more.

‘Read back that last bit.’

Please, Kate wanted to mutter, but decided on reflection that this might not be the day to try and teach Finn some manners. His brusqueness left her feeling crotchety and, when he finally let her go, she took out her bad temper on her keyboard, bashing away furiously until the phone rang.

‘Yes?’ she snapped, too cross to bother with the usual introductory spiel.

‘It’s Phoebe.’

‘Oh, Phoebe…hi.’

‘What’s up? You sound very grumpy.’

‘It’s just my boss here,’ Kate grumbled. ‘He’s so rude and unpleasant. I know you thought working for Celia was bad, but honestly, he gives a whole new dimension to the idea of the boss from hell.’

‘As long as he’s not a creep like your last boss,’ said Phoebe bracingly.

Kate wrinkled her nose remembering her ignominious departure from her last job, where her boss hadn’t even made a pretence of listening to her side of the story once Seb had got in first. Seb, of course, was an executive, and she was just a secretary and by implication dispensable.

‘No, I don’t think you could call him a creep,’ she said judiciously, ‘but that doesn’t make him any easier to deal with.’

‘Attractive?’ asked Phoebe.

‘Quite,’ Kate admitted grudgingly. ‘In a stern sort of way, I suppose. If you like the dour, my-work-is-my-life type—which I happen to know that you don’t!’

‘I don’t think anyone could call Gib dour, no,’ said Phoebe.

They both laughed, and Kate felt a lot better. It was wonderful to hear Phoebe so happy. The transformation in her friend since she had married Gib a few months ago had been remarkable, and it made up for her own dismal love life since Seb had dumped her so unceremoniously. She didn’t even get wolf-whistles in the street any more, Kate thought glumly.

‘I was just ringing to remind you about supper tonight,’ Phoebe was saying. ‘You are coming, aren’t you?’

‘Of course,’ said Kate, but Phoebe pounced on her momentary hesitation.

‘What?’

‘Well, it’s just that Bella hinted that you might be setting me up on a blind date tonight.’

‘She shouldn’t have told you!’ Phoebe sounded really cross. ‘I only told her because I invited her and Josh as well so it would seem more casual, but she’s met some new man who’s taking her to some swanky club tonight instead. Josh is coming, though,’ she added reassuringly, ‘so it won’t be too much of a set-up.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘Because I wanted you both to be natural, and I knew you wouldn’t be if you were nervous about whether he liked you or not.’

‘Hhmmnn.’ Kate wasn’t entirely convinced. ‘What have you told him about me?’

‘That you’re a high-powered PA—which you could easily be if you put your mind to it!’ said Phoebe. ‘He’s got his own consultancy or something, so I wasn’t sure if he’d be that impressed by you temping, but apart from that we told him the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth,’ she finished virtuously.

‘Oh, the truth!’ said Kate, her voice heavy with irony. ‘And what’s that, exactly?’

‘That you’re warm and funny and attractive and basically completely wonderful,’ Phoebe said firmly.

Perhaps she should ask Phoebe to put in some PR for her with Finn McBride, Kate thought, and then frowned slightly as she realised that she had been unconsciously doodling in her turn as she listened to Phoebe.

At least she didn’t go in for severe black boxes. She had done her favourite, a tropical sunset complete with leaning palm tree and a couple of wiggly lines to indicate the lagoon rippling gently against the shore. What did that indicate about her?

Probably that she was a hopeless fantasist, in which case she could save herself the cost of a professional analysis. She already knew that she was far too romantic for her own good. People had been telling her for years that she needed to shape up, get real, wake up and smell the coffee, and do all the other things that simply didn’t come naturally to her.

Suppressing a sigh, Kate carefully added a bunch of coconuts to the palm tree. ‘So won’t he wonder why if I’m that perfect I’m reduced to being set up on blind dates by friends? Why aren’t men falling at my feet wherever I go?’

‘I don’t know. Why aren’t they?’

That was one of the things Kate liked about Phoebe. She really believed in her friends.

Kate put down her pen and forced herself to concentrate. Perhaps all this was a sign to stop dreaming about Seb miraculously turning into a different person and to start making an effort to meet someone new. To wake up and smell the coffee, in fact.

‘So what’s he like, this guy?’

‘I’ve never met him,’ Phoebe had to admit. ‘He’s an old friend of Gib’s.’

‘How old, exactly?’

‘In his early forties, I think.’

‘Just coming up for his mid-life crisis then,’ said Kate with an uncharacteristic touch of cynicism.

‘He’s already had more than enough crises,’ said Phoebe soberly. ‘He’s a widower. His wife died when their daughter was just a toddler, and he’s been struggling to bring her up on his own ever since.’

‘Oh, how awful,’ said Kate, her ready sympathy roused and feeling instantly guilty for her flip comment. ‘It must have been terrible for him.’

‘Well, yes, I gather it was. Gib says he absolutely adored his wife, but it’s six years ago now, and he’s thinking that his little girl is getting to the stage when she really needs a woman around. He’s out of the way of dating, though, and since you were complaining about not meeting any men, Gib suggested a casual supper to introduce you. It’s no big deal, but he thought you might get on.’

‘I don’t know that I’m really stepmother material,’ said Kate doubtfully. ‘I don’t know anything about children.’

‘Nonsense!’ Phoebe wasn’t having any of that. ‘Look how good you are with animals, and children are just the same. They need someone to take them under her wing, and you know what a soft heart you’ve got for lame ducks.’

‘Yes, but I don’t want to go out with a lame duck,’ Kate protested. ‘I want someone sexy and exciting and glamorous.’

Like Seb.

The same thought was clearly in Phoebe’s mind. ‘No you don’t,’ she said firmly. ‘You want someone kind.’

Kate sighed. ‘Why can’t I have someone who’s kind and sexy and exciting and glamorous?’

‘Because I married him,’ said Phoebe smugly. ‘Now listen, this guy’s had a hard time, so be nice to him.’

‘Oh, all right,’ grumbled Kate. ‘What’s his name, anyway—’ She broke off as Finn’s door opened. ‘Uh-oh, here comes Mr Grumpy! I’d better go—I’m not supposed to use the phone for personal calls. See you later.’ She put the phone down hastily.

Finn looked at her with a suspicious frown. ‘Who was that?’

Well, she wasn’t going to tell him the truth and, although she could have made up something innocuous, Kate had an irrepressibly inventive streak and as a matter of principle resisted the simple option when she could complicate matters. She embarked instead on a long, involved and utterly untrue story, inventing an accountant who had met Alison skiing but who had subsequently been on a business trip to Singapore and had only just heard about the accident and, remembering that Alison had told him where she worked, now wanted to know where to send a card.

‘I said it would be all right if he sent it here and we would forward it,’ she finished, having embroidered the story with so many details that she almost believed it herself.

Finn’s expression was glazed with irritation by the time she got to the end. ‘I wish I’d never asked,’ he sighed. ‘You’ve just wasted a quarter of an hour of my life!’

‘It’s not as if we do brain surgery here,’ said Kate, a trifle sullenly. ‘I don’t see what difference fifteen minutes here or there makes.’

‘In that case, you won’t mind staying late tonight to make up for the hour you missed this morning,’ Finn said with an unpleasant look. ‘We’ve got an extremely important project coming up and I need to get this done to fax to the States before tomorrow morning.’

‘I can’t, I’m afraid,’ she said, not sounding at all regretful. ‘I’m going out.’

Finn frowned. ‘Can’t you ring and say you’ll be a bit late?’

For anyone else, Kate would have offered to do just that, but something about Finn McBride rubbed her up the wrong way. It wasn’t as if he had made the slightest effort to be pleasant to her.

‘Oh, I don’t think my boyfriend would like that very much,’ she said instead, trying for the unconscious smugness that so often seemed to accompany the words ‘my boyfriend’.

‘You’ve got a boyfriend?’ Finn was unflatteringly surprised, and Kate bridled. It was bad enough putting up with his rudeness without knowing that he thought her incapable of attracting a man as well!

‘Oh, yes,’ she said, determined to convince him that while she might not be a perfect PA, somebody wanted her. ‘In fact,’ she went on, leaning forward confidentially, ‘he’s taking me somewhere really special tonight. I think he might be going to pop the question!’

‘Really?’ Finn raised a contemptuous eyebrow, not even bothering to try and hide his disbelief.

How rude, thought Kate indignantly. He clearly didn’t think she was the kind of girl who would get a man at all, let alone one who wanted to marry her.

Her brown eyes narrowed. ‘Oh, yes,’ she said on her mettle. ‘Didn’t you know? That’s why I’m temping. Ever since I met—’

She searched wildly for a name before remembering Bella’s current and very glamorous man. Your best friend’s boyfriend was normally out of bounds, but she didn’t think Bella would mind her borrowing him mentally.

‘—Will,’ she carried on after the tiniest beat, ‘we’ve both known that we were meant for each other. He’s a financial analyst,’ she went on breezily, deciding that she might as well take Will’s career as well, ‘so I didn’t want to commit to a permanent job when he might be posted to New York or Tokyo at any minute. Of course, he keeps saying to me, “Darling, there’s no need for you to go out to work every day,” but I feel it’s important to keep some financial independence, don’t you?’

‘I wouldn’t have thought your earnings as a temp would make much difference if you’re living with a financial analyst,’ said Finn with something not a million miles from a sneer.

‘It’s a matter of principle,’ said Kate airily, quite enjoying the thought of herself destined for a life of expatriate luxury.

Finn turned back to his office. ‘Perhaps you could make it a matter of principle to turn up on time tomorrow,’ he said nastily. ‘That would make a nice change.’

It was a pity she wasn’t as good at real life as she was at inventing it, Kate reflected glumly as the bus inched through the rush hour traffic, vibrating noisily. Wouldn’t it be nice to be going home to a real adoring man with pots of money and to be told that she never had to go and work for the likes of Finn McBride ever again?

Kate sighed and rubbed the condensation from the window with her sleeve and peered down at the crowds hurrying along Piccadilly in the rain. They all seemed to know exactly where they were going. Why was she the only one who drifted along from one muddle to the next?

Look at her. Thirty-two and what did she have to show for it? No career, no home of her own, no relationship. The only thing she had gained over the last few years was twenty pounds. Even the misery diet hadn’t worked for her. When their hearts got broken the weight fell off her friends, but comfort eating had been the only way Kate could deal with losing Seb and her job together before Christmas. A double whammy.

Fortified by Bella and Phoebe and a good deal of champagne, Kate had resolved that things would change in the New Year. She was going to sharpen up her act. She would get another, better job and another, better man, she vowed. She would lose weight and start going to the gym and get her life under control.

It was just that all those things seemed a lot easier to achieve after a bottle or two of champagne. It was February already, and her New Year resolutions were still at the talking stage.

She ought at least to have found herself a proper job by now, but nothing was being advertised—no doubt everyone was staying put while they paid off their Christmas credit card bills—and even temping hadn’t proved to be the guaranteed fall-back position she had assumed. Nobody seemed to be getting flu this year, and Kate had been about to sign on as a waitress at the local wine bar when Alison had broken her leg.