The Three Date Rule: He's playing to win, but so is she, page 1
CONTENTS
Title
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Jillian Jones
Copyright © 2018 Jillian Jones
KDP eBook Edition
The right of Jillian Jones to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without permission in writing from the author. Contact the author at: http://www.jillianjones.com
The characters, places, and incidents portrayed herein are fictitious and have no existence outside the author’s imagination. Any similarity to a name, places, brands, media, character or history of any actual person, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
The author of this book is not a licensed health care provider, does not dispense medical advice or prescribe the use of any technique as a form of treatment for physical, emotional, or medical problems, and strongly advises you seek professional advice as appropriate before making any health decision. In the event you use any information in this book for yourself, which is your constitutional right, the author, and publisher, assume no responsibility for your actions.
For Kevin, my happily ever after.
CHAPTER ONE
Kate Morgan carefully manoeuvred the three plastic champagne flutes against her chest, adjusting the race book so she could read it without spilling the drinks. The next race was the big one—The Melbourne Cup.
Glancing around to make sure she was far enough out of the thoroughfare, she inched around a large pylon for a clearer view of her friends, Megan and Jodie, out on the grassed area, in the sun.
The three of them had been best friends since primary school and The Melbourne Cup, “the race that stops a nation”, had been on their bucket list for some years now, but timing was everything. Megan’s job as a virtual assistant kept her busy, while Kate and Jodie were teachers, working at the same school. Given the big race day was held on the first Tuesday of November each year, taking time off through the week, during school term, had to be well planned in advance.
Bantering with her friends and selecting a horse in each race in between admiring the parade of stunning women and fine men had been fun. The dresses, sculptural hairpieces, and suits were great visual entertainment. It was everything Kate anticipated, and more. In Kate’s opinion it was important to live life to the fullest and thrilling events such as this stirred her imagination, opening her mind to other possibilities. Her next adventure would be taking her enthusiastic eight-year-old children to Europe for a white Christmas. She’d saved long and hard for that trip and they were now of an age to benefit and enjoy the experience.
It was busy where she stood and the noise rang loudly in her ears. She sighed in contentment as she observed the scene, in no hurry to return to her friends. People bustled their way cheerfully to and from the restrooms, bars, and bookmakers. Yes, the shade offered by the grandstand above was a welcome relief. Out on the lawn it was more crowded, hot, and sunny, but that wasn’t her reason for loitering. She was giving her friends some space. In the time it took Kate to collect her winnings and buy champagne, they managed to score a glass each from the men they’d been ogling for the past hour.
Matt, the father of her children had once accused Kate of having an insatiable sexual appetite, if only he could see her now. Her libido was in serious hibernation, causal sex had zero appeal, and she had little time to go on a date, let alone entertain the idea of a serious relationship. She was a mother first and foremost, her children meant everything to her, and they were her priority. Although, Jodie and Megan argued she was avoiding relationships because of Matt. And, maybe they were right, he’d certainly left her wary with his manipulative comings and goings, the last time he left being two years ago, and she never knew if and when he might contact her, again.
Was that James Wardell? The familiar face of the award-winning Melbourne-based architect pulled Kate from her contemplation.
She adored his work and had read his interview in the latest Architecture Australia on her flight down from Brisbane. He was single. Now that was more like it. Maybe he could reawaken her desire. Wait. Was he drunk? The pale glimmer of attraction waned as he wobbled; dangerously unsteady on his feet.
James flailed his arms around, but it was unclear as to whether it was an expressive gesture as he spoke to the man beside him, or to stabilize himself. Amber liquid spilled precariously from the beer he held in one hand and a race book flapped around in the other. But, the race book was knocked from his fingers when his arm connected with the elbow of a passer-by. He apologized to the person he’d hit and attempted an awkward recovery of said book. Kate cringed then narrowed her gaze, watching closely as the man he’d been talking to effortlessly retrieved the item from the ground, and returned it to James with catlike grace. Sober.
Kate’s full attention shifted from the architect to the hero of the moment. An Adonis with short, dark blonde hair, and startling blue eyes, his slim-fit suit hugged his athletic physique, perfectly. Kate turned away to catch her breath. He was by far the most attractive man she’d seen that day, or ever for that matter. When she glanced over to where the men had been standing James Wardell was no longer there, but his buddy was walking her way. Checking the time on his wristwatch, almost by her side, just as a fist fight erupted between three males nearby. The brawl filled the air with the rancid smell of beer and sweat. A few more punches between the quarrelling men sent one of them careening into James’ friend, knocking him off balance.
As his body connected with hers, Kate drew in a quick, sharp breath, sensing champagne seeping through the bodice of her dress. He was quick to regain his balance. Wrapping his hands around her waist, pulling her in, and then moving her to rest up against a concrete pylon, steadying them both. His body hovered over hers as he released his hands and planted them either side of her face.
Pressing her back firmly into the cool concrete, Kate squeezed her eyes closed and held her breath. Her heart pounded against her rib cage. Was it because of the yelling and screaming that echoed in her ears or the presence of the strong body invading her personal space?
His cologne enveloped her, spicy and earthy, like a grassy field on a dry, warm day, or lemongrass. She loved the smell of lemongrass; it reminded her of being in a yoga class. Breathing in his soothing smell was like a welcoming balm, her heart rate slowed.
Opening her eyes when the noise and action subsided she glanced beyond the man in front of her. She noted the arrival of security guards, but shuddered at the chaos of scattered people and over-turned tables and bins. In the same moment her attention went to the damp fabric against her skin. Still clutching her wet race book and empty champagne flutes, she surveyed the damage to her dress.
“Are you okay?” His voice, deep and full, resonated through her whole body, sending tingles down her spine. His arms still braced each side of her, his palms pressed firmly against the pylon. She was too polite to express how she truly felt, glancing up to acknowledge him.
“I’m ...” but she couldn’t articulate anything. His stunning, sapphire eyes were magnetic, pulling her in. It was a whole-body sensation, as if she was falling into a sparkling blue lake. The impact, so intense, opened her heart and sucked the air from her lungs. As he held her gaze she was hit by another unexpected awareness. A strange and sudden urge to press her lips to his and drown in a long, languid kiss with him. She averted her eyes to avoid doing something crazy.
His scent continued to ground and calm her, compelling her to take a long, deep breath to absorb as much as possible.
“I’m fine,” she uttered, still avoiding eye contact. His breath hitched as he lowered his arms and stepped back from her. Had he sensed something too?
“Sorry about your dress.”
“Don’t worry about it,” she assured. He rummaged around in his pocket and pulling out a handkerchief he handed it over. Chivalrous, but she waved it away. Seriously? He couldn’t be more than late-twenties, maybe early thirties. What man of his age carried a handkerchief these days? Transferring the glasses and soaking wet race book to one hand, she brushed at her dress with the o ther. With any luck the black lace over the pale pink satin might hide the watermark and hopefully it would dry-clean out otherwise she’d owe Megan a new dress.
“At least let me get you more champagne.” Slipping his handkerchief back into his pocket, he took the glasses and book from her hand. He placed them in a nearby bin and headed for the bar before she could say no.
The sensation of being pulled into his eyes lingered. Like gazing at a clear blue sky while standing under a cooling waterfall. All concerns washing away. It was blissful—maybe too blissful. A few deep breaths brought her back to the present moment. By shaking her head and blinking a few times she managed to clear the mental picture of his eyes emblazoned on her retinas.
****
Ryan Jensen stood waiting for the three glasses of champagne he’d ordered and paid for, his hands gripping the bar as he grappled with the premonition that had hit him from out of the blue.
When his eyes met those of the mystery woman he saw a flash of light, followed by an image of her standing before him as his bride. It was strong and visceral. He felt her soft hands in his, drank in her fresh, summery fragrance, and saw the love in her eyes. It had to be a premonition of the future. His pulse raced and his hands were shaking, the same physical response he usually experienced after a vision. Except, in the fifteen years since the onset of this ability to see the future, he’d never once had a premonition around anything other than property. Was it a sign his clairvoyance was crossing into other areas of his life?
She was certainly attractive, with long dark hair falling out from under her fancy pink fascinator and onto her face. Intense blue eyes looking at him from under thick dark lashes. And that smile, Jesus, it lit up her face and various parts of his anatomy. Once the image cleared he felt strangely disorientated. As if they were a couple. That he knew her well, and intimately, and he was thankful she hadn’t been hurt in the fracas. It took all his willpower to stop from leaning down and dropping a kiss of gratitude on those beautiful lips.
In his vision it was clear. She’s an architect. So, why hadn’t their paths crossed before?
He knew he had to get back to her quickly, but he needed some space to process what he’d seen. He’d always trusted his gift before, but it had never gone crazy over a person—a woman. That made him wary.
He accepted the plastic flutes from the bartender, took a deep breath, and headed in her direction.
Who the hell was she? And why did she trigger a premonition?
The last thing he wanted was to chase her away before he had a chance to ask her name. Was it Katherine Anne Morgan? Because, that was the name, along with his, on the marriage certificate he saw them signing, twelve months from now.
“Here you go.” He extended the three glasses to the woman—his potential future bride—acutely aware of how perilously disoriented he was, unsure of how to deal with the situation. “I hope your dress isn’t ruined.”
He refrained from disclosing his name to see how much she knew. Most women he met had the upper hand and quickly informed him of their name and the fact they knew who he was. But, she looked very ‘girl-next-door’. She wasn’t wearing designer clothes and she wasn’t classically beautiful, stick thin, or blonde like most of the women whose attention he attracted. She had, however, piqued his interest more than any other woman who had ever crossed his path.
“Thanks, but you can keep them,” she said, waving the champagne away. “Two of them were for my friends, but they’ve acquired alcohol by other means.” She pointed toward the crowd on the lawn. “The blonde in blue is my friend Megan and the one in green with the long auburn hair is Jodie.” He quickly identified the women, arm in arm with a man each. He sucked in a breath. Until that moment he hadn’t contemplated she might be attached. He scanned the vicinity for a single man looking out for her, but couldn’t see one. “I don’t think they need more,” she added.
“They look preoccupied.” He kept it polite. Not wanting to ask outright. Had she been hiding out with the champagne she’d just purchased for the three of them? Reluctant to join her friends who’d clearly hooked up the minute she walked away? What sort of friends were they? The two couples were too caught up to notice what was going on around them. “Was one of these for you?” He indicated the liquid filled flutes.
She nodded, a sheepish expression on her face. “But, honestly, it’s fine.” She shook her head. “I don’t need it. I’m sure you’ll have someone to share them with,” she insisted.
He’d happily take one and Shaun would drink the other, but Mel wasn’t drinking so he actually didn’t have anyone to share the third one with since Carla had ditched him. Not that he was upset about it. Once he clarified that it was a one-off date, a favor to her brother, and therefore, given his three-date rule, sex was out of the question, Carla lost interest. She was even more upset when he told her he’d bought tickets for the stands and not the areas for the rich and famous. He wished her well when she phoned him that morning saying she found someone else to escort her to The Cup. He didn’t mind being left with a spare seat in order to be free of expectations.
“I can manage two of them, but have no one to share the third with, it seems a shame to waste it.”
“Okay, thanks.” She reluctantly accepted one of the glasses. “But you needn’t have purchased more. They’re not cheap.”
He reigned in the sense of impatience flooding his body as he waved away her concern. If she was deliberately pretending not to know who he was, that money wasn’t an issue for him, she could play that game on her own. “What will you do?” he asked. Angling for a way to bide more time to get to know her. She hadn’t even told him her name.
“I’ll give them a few more minutes. They’ll come up for air soon,” she offered, perhaps expecting he’d relent and leave her alone. He nodded and turned to observe her friends who were busy locking lips with their men.
“Hard to say, really,” he said, attempting to keep the conversation going. Surely she wasn’t planning on joining them. What if he was to give her another option? If he presented her with an offer would she take it? It would give him the chance to get to know her. “Look, as it happens, I’ve got a spare seat in the stands, how about you come join me instead?” She just stared at him, for a long silent moment. Damn he was losing her. “See it as my apology for spilling champagne all over you, my treat, for ruining your dress. It’s out of the sun and has a great view.” He sent her his best winning smile. She blinked, a blank expression on her face.
“That’s very generous of you, thanks, but just for the next race,” she muttered, looking as unsure as he felt. “I’ll just let my friends know.”
CHAPTER TWO
Kate contemplated the situation as she made her way over to Megan and Jodie, hoping she’d made the right decision. If she was to rejoin her friends she knew they wouldn’t deliberately leave her standing there, the odd one out, but she didn’t want to ruin their fun. The attractive stranger had noticed the awkwardness of the situation and offered her an alternative. It was a no brainer, wasn’t it? Interrupt the fun her friends were having, bide time on her own, or spend time chatting with him. Of course she’d made the right decision. A sense of warmth rushed through Kate’s body and it had nothing to do with the heat of the sunny day. He really was like a knight in shining armor. Except he was missing a white horse and his suit was slim-fitting, and made from soft grey material with a nice sheen, not chunky metal, but she was torn. She wasn’t weak or in need of saving, but she longed to feel the falling sensation, again. The one she felt when she first gazed into his eyes.
A gentle tap on their shoulders ensured Kate had the attention of both Megan and Jodie. She sent a nod of acknowledgment to the males draped around them. Megan’s man gave a wave, while Jodie’s sent a suggestive wink which Kate ignored.
“There you are,” Jodie said, sending her a warm smile.
“I’m not staying. I wanted to let you know I got an offer to join a guy in the stands.” Kate indicated the direction of the man holding two champagne flutes.
“He looks familiar. What’s his name? Is it someone we know?” Megan narrowed her eyes, looking confused.
