The Best Man for the Job Read Online Free PDF Page A

comprehensive.
    Now it was clear that Jim had no respect for the choices she’d made or the work she did either, but then over the years Marcus had got the impression that the man didn’t have much respect for women in general, least of all his wife and daughter. He certainly didn’t listen to either.
    ‘And one day I’d like to be doing exactly that,’ she said, pulling her shoulders back and lifting her chin, ‘but there’s still plenty of time.’
    ‘Not that much time,’ said Jim brutally. ‘You’re thirty-one and you haven’t had a boyfriend for years.’
    Celia flinched but didn’t back down. ‘Ouch. Thanks for that, Dad.’
    ‘How are you ever going to meet anyone if all you do is work? I blame that ambition of yours.’
    ‘If my ambition is to blame then it’s your fault,’ she muttered cryptically, but before Marcus could ask what she meant Jim suddenly swung round and fixed him with a flinty look that he didn’t like one little bit.
    ‘You married?’ he asked.
    Marcus instinctively tensed because for some reason he got the impression that this wasn’t merely a polite enquiry into his marital status. ‘No.’
    ‘Girlfriend?’
    ‘Not at the moment.’
    ‘Then couldn’t you sort her out?’ said Jim, with a jerk of his head in his daughter’s direction.
    Celia gasped, her jaw practically hitting the ground. ‘Dad!’
    Marcus nearly swallowed his tongue. ‘What?’ he managed, barely able to believe that this man had basically just pimped out his daughter. In front of her.
    ‘Take her in hand and sort her out,’ Jim said again with the tact and sensitivity of a charging bull. ‘Soften her up a bit. You have a reputation for being good at that and with the business gone and your future projects not yet up and running you must have time on your hands.’
    ‘Stop it,’ breathed Celia, red in the face and clearly—and understandably—mortified.
    Not that Marcus was focusing much on her outraged mortification at the moment. He was too busy feeling as if he’d been hit over the head with a lead pipe. He was reeling. Stunned. Although not with dismay at Jim’s suggestion. No. He was reeling because an image of taking Celia into his arms and softening her up in the best way he knew had slammed into his head, making his pulse race, his mouth go dry and his temperature rocket.
    Suddenly all he could think about was hauling her into his arms and kissing her until she was melting and panting and begging him to take her to bed, and where the hell that had come from he had no idea because she didn’t need sorting out. By anyone. Least of all him. And even if he tried he’d probably get a slap to the face.
    God.
    Running his finger along the inside of his collar, which now felt strangely tight, Marcus tried to get a grip on his imagination and keep his focus on the conversation instead of the woman standing next to him. The woman who couldn’t stand him.
    ‘I don’t think that’s a very good idea,’ he muttered hoarsely and cleared his throat.
    ‘Of course it isn’t a good idea,’ said Celia hotly.
    ‘Why not?’ said Jim with an accusatory scowl, as if he, Marcus, was being deliberately uncooperative. ‘She might be a bit of a ball-breaker but she’s not bad-looking.’
    ‘Hello?’ said Celia, waving a hand in front of her father’s face. ‘I am here, you know.’
    Marcus knew. Oh, he knew. And not just that she was only a foot away. It was as if Jim had unlocked a cupboard in his head and everything he’d stuffed in there was suddenly spilling out in one great chaotic mess.
    To begin with, not bad-looking? Not bad-looking? That was the understatement of the century. She was gorgeous. All long wavy blond hair, eyes the colour of the Mediterranean, full pink lips and creamy skin. A tall hourglass figure that made his hands itch with the need to touch her. A soft, gorgeous, curvy exterior behind which lay a mind like a steel trap, a drive that rivalled his own and a