The Best Man for the Job Read Online Free PDF

take-no-prisoners attitude that was frighteningly awesome.
    Today, in a pink strapless dress and those gold high-heeled sandals with her hair all big and tousled and her make-up dark and sultry, she looked absolutely incredible. Sexy. Smouldering. And uncharacteristically sex kittenish.
    It was kind of astonishing he hadn’t noticed before. Or maybe subconsciously he had. The minute she’d walked into the church and he’d laid eyes on her, hadn’t everyone else pretty much disappeared? Hadn’t it taken every drop of his self-control to keep his jaw up, his feet from moving and his mind on the job?
    With hindsight it was a miracle he’d managed to get down that aisle without dragging her off into the vestry. He’d felt her touch right through the thick barathea of his sleeve and it had singed his skin and tightened every muscle in his body. The scent of her had scrambled his brain and the proximity of her had heated his blood. As for the pressure of her breast against his elbow, well, the lust that that had aroused in him had nearly brought him to his knees.
    If he hadn’t been so deeply in denial he’d have had bad, bad thoughts about her. In a church, for heaven’s sake.
    He’d told himself that it was exhaustion messing with his head, which, come to think of it, was the excuse he always made when it came to the irrational and inappropriate thoughts of her that occasionally flitted through his mind.
    But it wasn’t exhaustion. It was denial, pure and simple. Because how could he be so in thrall to someone who clearly didn’t feel the same way about him? How could he be so weak?
    So was that what bothered him so much about her, then? The one-sided attraction and the back-seat position it put him in? Was the fact that he’d never stopped wanting her the reason why the way she constantly judged him and always found him lacking pissed him off so much?
    Despite what she thought of him he fancied the pants off her, which meant that, despite his protests to the contrary earlier, Zoe had been right. On his side at least, there was chemistry, tension and, up until about a minute ago, a whole heap of denial.
    And as denial was now apparently not an option he might as well admit that her rejection of him still stung despite the fact that it had happened years ago. She was the one who had got away, and that was why she got to him, why he always retaliated when she launched an attack on him.
    ‘So what do you think?’ said Jim, interrupting the jumble of thoughts tangling in his head. ‘Would you be up for the challenge?’
    ‘He thinks you’re insane, Dad,’ said Celia fiercely. ‘And so do I. I know I’m a disappointment to you but, for goodness’ sake, this has to stop. Now.’
    Actually, with the realisation that he wanted her, what Marcus thought was that he was suddenly bone-deep tired of the animosity that she treated him with. It had been going on for years, and he was sick of not knowing what it was about or where it came from.
    After spending so long in denial it was surprising just how clearly he could see now. His vision was crystal, and he wanted answers. So whether she liked it or not he was going to get them before the afternoon was through.
    ‘Want to go and get a drink?’ he muttered, figuring that there was no time like the present and that with any luck she’d consider him the lesser of the two evils in her vicinity right now.
    ‘I thought you’d never ask.’

THREE
    Oh, God, thought Celia, lifting her hands to her cheeks and feeling them burn as she abandoned her horror of a father and trailed in Marcus’ wake. How on earth was she going to recover from this? Would she ever get over the mortification and the humiliation? Not to mention the mileage that Marcus would get out of that disaster of a conversation. Her father might not know it but he’d given him ammunition to last him years.
    How could he have suggested she needed sorting out? She’d always known he didn’t have much time for