The Guest List Read Online Free PDF Page A

so self-assured and sexy, ‘we will do it our way. I thought you got that.’
    She took a couple of steps towards him till she held his wet face in her hands. ‘I’m sorry, I do know that, and I shouldn’t need reassurance. I love you.’
    ‘And I love you. Now go,’ he added with a grin, ‘unless you’re willing to get very wet and join me in here.’
    She giggled, all worry set aside. She knew she was being silly, but then again, she was also glad she’d asked – at least now she could put the stupid thought out of her head and get on with her day. It was wonderful to be in a relationship where you didn’t have to play games or hide your true feelings. Everything was out in the open, which Cara supposed was how a mature relationship should be.
    ‘All right, have a good one.’ She leaned in towards Shane again for a kiss, unconcerned that the humidity of the shower was probably wreaking havoc on her hair.
    ‘You too.’ He returned her kiss, then smiled and pulled his head back under the spray of the water.
    Feeling giddy, Cara turned on her heel and reached for the bathroom door. Oh well, she would just have to worry about her hair on the way in to work.
    ‘Oh Cara?’ Shane suddenly called out as she was about to leave the room. He poked his head back out of the shower curtain.
    ‘Yes?’
    ‘Let’s meet for dinner tonight. I’m not sure I want to brave grilled cheese,’ he teased, the dimple on his left cheek showing as he tried not to laugh, ‘and I definitely don’t think I have the stomach for another curry.’
    Cara feigned a hurt look. ‘You really think my cooking’s that bad?’
    Shane gave a broad grin. ‘So maybe now you know why I haven’t married you.’
    ‘Oh you . . .’ Cara smiled and headed out the door.
    OK, maybe sometimes complete honesty wasn’t so great.
    She hustled onto the train at Grand Canal Station, which was just a short walk from their apartment. While standing in the carriage, she tried to flatten down her hair, which had become inevitably frizzy from the bathroom humidity, while balancing all her work belongings in the process. Thankfully, Greygates was only three stops away, and she reached the office within ten minutes.
    She pulled open the front door of the simple two-storey building that housed Octagon Design, trying to juggle her handbag and laptop case as well as the coffee she’d picked up on the way. She was dangerously close to losing the entire lot when suddenly a pair of hands shot out to grab her coffee and laptop case just as both were threatening to slip from her fingers.
    ‘Cheers, Conor, sorry, I was close to losing the lot for a minute,’ Cara said, exhaling a large breath. She looked up into the face of her boss, who was wearing his usual sardonic grin.
    ‘Glad I could be of assistance. Might help if you realised you had only one pair of hands though.’ Conor smiled.
    ‘Yep, I guess it would.’ She looked at her watch and winced. ‘Sorry I’m late, I was just running a bit behind this morning.’
    ‘Is there any other way to run in the morning?’ he chuckled.
    In his early forties, Conor Dempsey was handsome with striking blue eyes and sandy brown hair that was always worn slightly tousled.
    Tall and broad-shouldered, he too had been born and bred in Greygates, but had spent his early twenties working in London before eventually returning to set up Octagon. While he was the consummate bachelor, with various women vying for his attention, he had never married, which always surprised Cara somewhat. Knowing him as well as she did, she’d never thought he quite fitted the playboy man-about-town image, no matter how much his lifestyle suggested otherwise.
    ‘Well, I have to say, much of it is my own fault, I would have been out the door a good half hour ago only for Shane.’ She scattered her bags and laptop case onto her desk, and Conor propped himself up on an unused side table directly across from her.
    ‘Not a fight I hope.’ Having