Miranda's Big Mistake - Jill Mansell [111]
Miranda gazed at the dozens of packs of Marks & Spencer ready meals, the wicked selection of puddings, the exotic fruits and cheeses.
`I bought it all myself,' Miles told her. `Wheeled the trolley up and down the aisles, did the conveyor belt thing at the checkout, stuffed everything into bags, the works.' He looked proud. `I didn't know what you'd like, so I…'
`Bought the lot,' Miranda marvelled, `by the look of it.'
`I'm just desperate to impress you. I've never filled my fridge for anyone else, you know.' He gave her a soulful look. `It must be love.'
Luckily, she was starving.
`Oh dear, I just wish you'd told me earlier,' she teased him. `I'd never have had those two Big Macs.'
Chapter 45
Miles dropped her back at Tredegar Gardens at midnight. Switching off the ignition, he turned in his seat to face her.
`I've decided I'm going to convince you I'm serious.'
`Really?' Miranda looked interested. `How? More snogging and smutty talk? Chapter Eleven: When All Else Fails, Beg?'
Miles calmly ignored this.
`I know what your problem is.'
`Let me guess,' said Miranda. `Chapter Twelve: Tell Her She's Frigid.'
Miles took her perspiring hands in his before she had a chance to wipe them on her jeans.
`Your problem is Daisy.' He paused. `You think I only want you as my bit on the side.'
`I d-don't think that at all,' squeaked Miranda. I do, I do!
`So if I finish with Daisy, will that convince you that I'm serious?'
Oh, good grief, steady on a minute. Deep breaths, deep breaths.
`You're panting,' Miles observed. `Wouldn't be with lust, by any chance?'
`You don't mean this.' Miranda was floundering, hopelessly out of her depth. He couldn't mean it, surely. It was just another ploy, like married men promising their mistresses they'd leave their wives.
`I don't mean it?' Miles met the challenge with a teasing smile. `Just watch me.'
`You should be a poker player. Bluff, bluff and bluff again.'
`Okay, let's get this straight. Would you like me better if Daisy was off the scene? Would you relax a bit more and stop being so suspicious of everything I do and everything I say?'
Oh, handy, thought Miranda, that's me, the world's greatest expert when it comes to figuring out men and their motives.
But since she couldn't think of a single sensible reply, she shrugged and said carelessly, `Yes thanks, that'd be great.'
`I'll do it tomorrow night.' Miles slid his fingers through her feathery fringe, tinged aubergine by the orange glow of the streetlamp above them.
`I'll tell her, and I'll ring you on Saturday morning to let you know it's sorted.'
`Fine,' said Miranda. Since it wasn't going to happen, why not play along for the hell of it? `So when will I see you, on Saturday afternoon?'
Miles, she noticed, was trying not to smile at this. From the look of things she'd made a bit of a faux pas.
`You're not a Grand Prix groupie, are you?' Miles said sympathetically. `I'd love to see you then, but I'm going to be pretty much tied up for the next three days, what with Silverstone… practice sessions… qualifying lapson Saturday, the big race on Sunday… I'm sorry.' He shook his head. `I know it's a bore, but it pays the rent.'
`Honestly,' Miranda sighed, `talk about inconvenient. Couldn't you have a word with them, get them to postpone the Grand Prix?'
`Ah, you see, you can't wait to seduce me now, can you?' Miles broke into a grin. `Have to, I'm afraid.'
`You're no fun,' said Miranda.
`I am, actually. Lots of fun.' Leaning closer, Miles murmured in her ear, `As you'll have the chance to find out on Monday night.'
Feeling like a secret agent trapped in enemy territory, Miranda didn't breathe a word to anyone about Miles on Friday, though inwardly it was hard to think of anything but him. Her brain buzzed with all the old unanswerable questions… does he mean it?… is he actually going to finish with Daisy Schofield?… will he really phone up