Consequences

Part 26

Isabelle hoped the next few minutes weren't going to be difficult. But given his body language she figured that was asking a bit much. Never mind. It wasn't his fault he was lumbered with her.

"Ah, so you've decided what you'd like to do." Isabelle said quietly as she pushed open a door and preceded him into the kitchen. She gestured toward the chairs. "Please take a seat." Then as he took a seat she offered to get him a drink. "Can I get you something to drink?" It all seemed rather polite she thought as she watched him take the nearest seat.

Doug gave the room a once over as he pulled out a chair and sat. Nice sized room. Pristine too. But then what had he expected. This woman was neat as a pin. Not a hair out of place. Immaculately turned out. Simply dressed. But the way she carried herself spoke volumes about her heritage. Just as his scars signaled his background. That reminded him about the day he'd had.

What he needed was a double scotch, but he was driving later, and so that would have to wait until he got home. "Whatever you're having looks fine." He'd spied the glass of red wine beside her chair. Hearing his response she reached for the bottle and poured him a glass.

Once again she picked up on his tone. Not a happy bunny at all, she thought as she handed him a glass of her favourite red wine. "So what did you decide?" She asked bluntly.

The sooner they got this over with, the better. He obviously wasn't keen to be here. And despite being perched in her kitchen sharing a meal, she was pretty sure he wanted distance between them. And fast. So much for spinning dreams and wishing for something that was clearly not going to happen, she thought as she picked up her own glass of wine.

Doug was still rather amazed by her calmness. He wondered what if anything ever ruffled her. He was sure in his family they would be ranting and raving by now.

"We remain engaged." He took a sip and watched her over the top of his glass as she walked over to one of the cabinets and retrieved a plate for him to use. As the wine hit his taste buds, he found himself taking stock of her kitchen again. Pristine, elegant, clean lines. Much like the lady he thought as he returned his gaze to her. She opened a drawer and a napkin for him to use.

Isabelle waited, expecting him to produce a few more details. But when he didn't continue she put the plate and napkin in front of him and then looked straight at him and asked, "For how long? A couple of weeks? A month?" Best to know these things in advance. Of course there was a fair amount to organize to cater for this sudden modification to her daily business. But Isabelle figured that with enough information she could work around her existing commitments. She retook her seat, shook out her own napkin and laid it alongside her plate. Doug was fascinated by the elegance in such a mundane task. Her every action was graceful.

"Three." Doug stated calmly as he put the glass down. Three, that's what he figured they would need to pretend all was well in their worlds and then signal that all was not going to plan and hence the split.

With a silent sigh, she accepted. Isabelle figured that the next three weeks would be quite a challenge. Not just because she was attracted to the man, but because she had a lot on her plate right at the moment. "OK, three weeks." It was longer than she'd hoped, but she was sure that arguing would not help. He struck her as the type that expected his orders to be followed through.

"Months." He corrected flatly and his eyes watched her to see how she took that amendment.

"Months?" She quirked a brow, then shook her head. There was no way she could accommodate that. "That's out of the question." She offered him the pizza box and waited for him to take a slice. Ok, so he was about to learn that while he might be used to giving orders, she was not one to simply accept any decree. "Hope you don't mind if we don't use crockery." She retrieved a slice. Teasing the strand of cheese onto the corner of the pizza she tipped her head and took a bite.

"Why is three months out of the question?" Doug found watching her eat, strangely mesmerizing. There was a degree of sensuality that had his body's alarm bells ringing. He was not here to seduce the woman. He was here to discuss their arrangement. That's what his mind told him. The rest of his body was otherwise engaged in response to watching her nibble on the pizza.

"Why?" Her smile was slow to come, but beautiful to see. "Because I'm not going to put my life on hold for three months just to sort out my grandmother's mess. Three weeks I could just about manage." Isabelle couldn't understand the flush on his cheekbones.

"Why would you have to put it on hold?" Doug reached for his glass again. He needed to focus on anything other than her. He was not going to get turned on by a woman eating a pizza!

"I think that's fairly obvious." She put her glass down. "a, I doubt whether the press would leave us alone, so what I do at the moment would have to take a back seat," She didn't want to explain that what she did was more than raise funds. "And, b, as I found out yesterday, we'd need to be seen together, otherwise we will face a barrage of questions, so we'd have to forego things we've already organized." That worried her now that she thought about it. She had a diary full of scheduled meetings and events. "And then there is, c, any opportunity to meet someone would have to be shelved, d.." She hadn't meant to tell him that.

His eyebrow quirked in amusement and obvious challenge. "I hadn't realised you were in the market."