All Bets Are On (5 page)

They passed the empty bandstand and headed for a café, the grey-green wooden boat house next to the lake. Sunshine sparkled off the water.

She stood behind him as he bought coffees, trying not to notice the way he turned female heads. It was his height and broad shoulders that drew your first glance but the darkly handsome face that made you look twice. She was acutely aware of the interested and envious glances thrown her way as he turned to her, a takeaway coffee in each hand.

‘Shall I grab a table?’ she asked, scanning the terrace for a space.

He took a sip of his coffee and grinned at her.

‘I’ve got a better idea.’

She looked up at him, squinting a little against the sunlight.

‘What?’

Trepidation spiked a little as she wondered what the hell he might be suggesting. Finding a quiet spot among the trees for al-fresco sex maybe? Nothing would surprise her. She deliberately avoided taking his proffered hand, and followed him across the terrace and down the decking to the edge of the lake. As he took out his wallet and approached the attendant the penny finally dropped.

Not al-fresco sex, thank goodness, but still well outside her comfort zone.

She stopped in her tracks.

‘You’re hiring a rowing boat?’

She could hear the incredulity in her own voice.

He turned back to her, grinning.

‘Yep.’

Despite her attempts to avoid him he grabbed her hand and tugged her gently along the decking towards the row of light blue wooden rowing boats.

She shook her head and tried to dig her heels into the decking, failing miserably in her ballet flats.

‘I don’t do boats.’

He gave an exasperated sigh.

‘I’m hiring a rowing boat for an hour, not proposing we cross the Atlantic in a bathtub. Will you just relax for once and enjoy the fact that we are in London, it’s a lovely sunny day and we are together? You want to get back into dating? The first thing you need to do is start loosening up or you’ll get nowhere. Guys don’t like high maintenance, you know. Not in the long term.’

‘I am
not
high maintenance,’ she snapped.

‘Prove it, then,’ he said, gesturing towards the boats.

She tried desperately to focus on her plan, her list, which was the whole point of being here with him. Was she really going to back out at the first small hurdle, before she’d even had the chance to properly talk to him?

She gave an enormous exaggerated sigh and walked towards the boats.

The attendant was holding boat number twelve against the deck.

‘Usual OK for you, sir?’ he asked Harry. ‘One hour, is it?’

She stopped in the ungainly act of straddling the water, one foot in the boat, one foot out of it, her coffee balanced in one hand and tote bag in the other, her ears suddenly on stalks.

The usual?

There she was thinking that at least he was imaginative, that the impromptu get-close-to-nature boat trip was actually quite thoughtful. But no.

Was this his date of choice to get a girl out of work mode and inject some fun? How many other girls had been treated to this supposedly spur-of-the-moment trip out?

Harry was all over the situation like a shot, rushing to gloss over the attendant’s comment, clearly hoping she hadn’t picked up on it.

‘I’ll take it from here, mate,’ he cut in, grabbing the edge of the boat himself.

The usual.

It took a conscious effort not to shake her head in wonder. But she kept her mouth shut.

For now.

FOUR

Rule #3 Be careful not to be seduced by dates that are designed to impress but seem spur-of-the-moment. Chances are it’s been tried and tested with many girls before you.

Irritably aware that
she was wobbling all over the place, Alice ignored Harry’s hand and clambered into the boat on her own. He leapt in and pushed away all in one graceful fluid motion while she perched like a lunatic on the plank seat at the end, clutching her tote bag against her chest in a vice-grip. Realising what an uptight idiot she must look, she slid her bag into the boat behind her and tried to sit back a little without capsizing the stupid thing.

Harry manoeuvred the oars expertly as if he spent every waking hour rowing girls around boating lakes. As if she needed any further confirmation that this date was no one-off. How many girls had sat in this boat with him in the past? He really was the perfect candidate for player—she couldn’t have chosen better if she’d tried. This was all about what dating information she could gather, testing and fine-tuning the list of rules she’d based on her past experience. And so far he was delivering. In spades.

As they reached the middle of the lake he rested the oars and let the boat bob gently, leaning down to pick up his coffee from the bottom of the boat. The sun glinted off the water, warming her back gently. A couple of ducks swam past, and the peace and quiet was soothing.

‘Not so bad, is it?’ he said.

‘It’s lovely,’ she admitted. Her life in the city revolved around concrete and crowds.

‘See what you’ve been missing?’

‘Yeah, well, if dating just meant having a good laugh and getting close to nature, maybe I wouldn’t have taken the break.’

Harry watched her. Her hair rippled a little in the breeze as she looked down, picking lightly at the paint on the edge of the boat with her fingernail. What had happened to make someone like her—twenty-something, single, living in the most exciting city in the country—just opt out of a social life? He had her in a boat in the middle of a lake—she couldn’t exactly run away from the subject if he pursued it.

‘Why have you left it so long, then?’ he asked. ‘I mean, three years, that’s some drought. What was it—were you cheated on?’

She didn’t look up, but he saw her shoulders stiffen.

‘Something like that.’

‘Everyone has the odd bad experience. You shouldn’t let it take your life over.’

‘You’d know, of course,’ she said, glancing up with a cynical smile. ‘When it comes to the odd bad experience, you’re an expert.’

He felt sudden irritation at the injustice of that comment. Not that he cared what she thought of him; it was the principle of it.

‘I’ve never cheated on anyone. Not once.’

‘Really?’ she said, her sarcastic smile telling him she didn’t believe a word.

‘Like it or not, I’m honest. I make it clear from the start it’s never going to be anything serious. Just like I did with you.’

‘Get that in as early as possible so you can’t be blamed when you throw in the towel?’ she said, winking at him. ‘Of course, you realise that when you say you don’t want anything serious, women don’t actually hear it.’

‘Yes, they do. I make my intentions crystal clear.’

More so than ever since Ellie had opted for revenge instead of acceptance. Not that he was about to mention that to Alice. If she had the track record he thought she did, she was probably just a short step from bunny-boiler herself. Last thing he needed was to give her any ideas.

‘OK, then,’ she said. ‘Maybe they
hear
what you’re saying. But they don’t
believe
it. You always think you can change him, that he won’t be the same with you. It’s like an inbuilt optimism women have.’

‘So you think you can change me, then, do you?’ he asked.

She held his gaze levelly, the brown eyes not remotely fazed. His pulse jumped.

‘I fall into the exception category,’ she said. ‘If you have an extra reason for dating a man, then the optimism thing doesn’t kick in. My reason for going out with you is to navigate the murky waters of dating again. You happen to be my guide.’ She pointed an emphatic finger at him. ‘It has nothing to do with wanting us to
actually
get together. It’s a means to an end.’

‘That doesn’t preclude the fact that we could have a great time together.’

He deliberately held her gaze until she dropped her eyes. Sparring with her was actually turning out to be fun with her obstinate take on everything. She went back to picking at the paint, her pale skin taking on a golden hue in the sunlight. As he watched she tucked a stray wave of hair behind her ear, exposing the smooth softness of her neck. His eyes were drawn there.

‘That’s guaranteed, is it?’ she said. ‘Got your secret formula, a few tried and tested dates?’ She gave up picking the paint and leaned back, tilting her head back a little and closing her eyes against the sunshine. ‘I’ve got to hand it to you, I was really impressed.’

He shook his head lightly.

‘How do you mean?’

She opened her eyes and looked at him.

‘This,’ she said, waving her hands around her to take in the park, the surroundings. ‘I really liked the spontaneity of it. I thought you’d really given some thought to a date that might appeal to me. But you’ve done this one with loads of other girls, haven’t you, this being your
usual
boat?’

She made sarcastic speech marks in the air with her fingers.

So she’d overheard the boat attendant. Damn. He’d thought he got away with that. And by the cynical look on her face, denial would be pointless.

‘You got me,’ he said.

‘You certainly made it seem spur of the moment—you must have had plenty of practice. How many women have you rowed around this lake, Harry?’ She held up a hand. ‘Actually, don’t answer that. I really don’t care. For a second there I thought there was more to you than formulaic chat-up lines and by-rote dates.’

‘Jealous?’ he asked, just to see her reaction.

She laughed out loud. He grinned back.

‘On the contrary, I’m pleased,’ she said. ‘You’re giving me some fantastic insights into the kind of alarm-bell behaviour I should be looking for. Passing yourself off as bespoke and unpredictable when you’ve got a game plan going on in the background. That’s how you snare them, is it?’

He felt a sudden flash of uncertainty.
Game plan.
As if she had some knowledge of his real motivation here. No more than a flash, though. There was no way she could know about the bet, and no way she would have agreed to date anyone if she knew such a thing existed.

He leaned forward and looked into the wide brown eyes, challenging the shrewd expression in them.

‘None of that negates the fact that we’re having a good time,’ he said. ‘Why analyse it any further than that when neither of us wants anything serious? We already agreed this is just going to be a few dates, some fun, so why not just let it be that? Come on, admit it. You’ve enjoyed it so far.’

She cut her eyes briefly away from his. Shrugged.

‘Maybe.’

She took a sip of her coffee.

‘OK, then,’ he said. ‘How about we focus on us? You and me. Without reference to anyone or anything that might have happened in the past. How about I agree to be straight with you right now about my intentions and then you can take it or leave it? Entirely up to you. Going into it eyes wide open. Ready?’

She looked at him with interest. A light frown-line touched her brow, and she tilted her chin upwards, making her look seriously cute.

‘Go on then.’

‘I think it’s a shame that someone like you—young, single, no ties—is so buried in work that you never get out and have a good time. I want to change that. I want to learn what makes you tick. I think we can have fun together and, I can tell you right now, I intend to take you to bed.’ He looked across the boat, right into her eyes. ‘And when it stops being fun, I’ll be happy to let it go. I can’t be more up front than that, can I?’ He wedged his coffee back on the floor of the boat and rested tanned forearms on the oars. ‘If you want to bail out, just say so now. Although you might want to wait until I row us back.’

As Alice met his determined blue gaze her stomach did a soft and lazy flip. She kept her expression set, determined not to give the slightest indication that she felt as if she might dissolve into a hot puddle in the bottom of the boat. His arrogance was stunning. Then again, he had a constant stream of fawning women fanning his ego and letting him walk all over them.

She wondered how far he would go to pursue someone who didn’t fall at his feet in the first half-hour. She was determined to show him she wasn’t remotely beguiled by the charm.

‘OK, then,’ she said, making sure she held his gaze. ‘As we’re being up front. This is about getting out of the rut I seem to be in,
not
about hooking you. In actual fact you’re pretty much irrelevant. It’s the dating I’m interested in. I won’t be booking up a wedding any time soon or crying in the toilets at work when it ends. Yes, I intend to have a good time, but you’re up against a
CSI
box set, so don’t flatter yourself that my standards are particularly high. And I have no intention of getting into bed with you any time soon.’

She sat back triumphantly.

He smiled at her then, a gorgeous smile with a hint of predator that made her heart rate speed up.

‘I’ll just have to work on changing your mind, then,’ he said, keeping his eyes fixed on hers. ‘Sounds like fun.’

Her zippy heartbeat showed no sign of slowing down. Deliberately ignoring it, she raised her coffee cup to him and grinned.

‘Good luck with that.’

* * *

Harry began rowing again, slowly this time, heading further out to the middle of the lake.

‘What were you like with your ex, then?’ he asked her. ‘Did you try to change him?’

She hadn’t thought she’d needed to. In her mind Simon had been perfect. Right up until he betrayed her. No doubt Harry would have seen Simon’s behaviour as nothing more than a laugh. They were cut from the same cloth.

‘Come on,’ he prompted when she didn’t answer. ‘You’re happy to criticise the way I treat women. Don’t give it if you can’t take it. Haven’t you ever wondered if your own behaviour might have contributed to the way you were treated in the past?’

She snapped her head up.

‘What the hell is that supposed to mean?’

He shrugged.

‘Well, have you always been this...’ he struggled for the right words ‘...on the offensive?’

‘On the offensive?’

‘So tense and wound up about everything. Analysing every move a guy makes. I’m just making conversation, getting to know you. It’s not easy when you’re this...strung out.’

That was just about enough.

‘I am
not
strung out!’ she snarled, flinging her arms up, then gave an anguished squawk as the sudden movement made her tote bag overbalance. She made a too-late grab as it toppled over the side of the boat, taking with it her mobile phone, wallet and—most unthinkably of all—her personal organiser, bulging at the seams and stuffed with tickets, receipts and other vital paperwork and without which she simply could not function.

She scrambled frantically onto her knees as the boat rocked madly.

‘What the hell are you doing?’ Harry yelled, grabbing at the oars and struggling with them to calm the movement down.

‘My bag!’ she gabbled. ‘It’s fallen in.’ She made a futile stretch for it as it bobbed out of reach, and gasped as cold water soaked her sleeves up to the elbow. ‘My organiser!’

‘Your
what
?’

‘My organiser! My whole life is in there!’ she shouted, incensed by his lack of concern. ‘Don’t just sit there!’

Getting up onto her knees, she leaned far over and paddled madly with her hands, making the boat rock all the more.

‘For crying out loud, will you sit still?’ he shouted.

Ignoring him, nothing mattering apart from the horror of bag, organiser, phone, purse, every facet of her life disappearing beneath the surface of the duck-infested lake, she scrambled to her feet and made a final lunge for the tote, gripping the side of the boat with one hand to hold herself in and realising a second too late that it was a stretch too far and the whole damn thing was going to capsize.

She was vaguely aware of a yell from Harry and a sudden
‘whoosh!’
at the mass take-off of ducks and geese as the boat overturned, tipping both of them into freezing duck-poo-tainted water. An icy cold few seconds later and she surfaced with a gasping squeal, spluttering and coughing.

Harry surfaced a few feet away, gasping.

‘Are you crazy?’ he shouted at her, shaking water out of his hair. ‘What the hell are you playing at?’

She thrashed wildly to keep her head above the surface. Swimming was surprisingly difficult when you were fully dressed and icy cold. Despite the lovely autumn day, the useless British sun had no water-warming ability whatsoever and she struggled for breath as she tried to concentrate on treading water instead of following the panicky impulse to flail her arms about.

And then he was there. She felt his arm slide firmly around her chest, then the solid muscle of his upper body worked to pull her one stroke at a time back towards the boat house, obviously the more sensible option since their boat was now drifting away upside down. She pulled herself together and tried to kick along with him.

By the time they reached the decking she was so cold she could hardly muster any energy to pull herself up and ended up being hauled out of the water like a beached whale by the extremely antagonistic boating attendant.

Harry climbed out next to her. She lay panting on her back, looking up at him. His shirt and jeans clung soaking wet to his body; his already dark hair was soaked to black. Drops of water clung to his eyelashes and he swiped water from his face with one hand.

‘Still think you’re not strung out?’ he said.

* * *

The boat attendant had a face like thunder, muttering about vandals abusing the facilities and threatening to call security.