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She hadn’t lied—she just hadn’t told the whole truth.
Ebony tut-tutted. “I know you, Sammy. You’re hiding something. And I could’ve sworn you wanted to tear my eyes out earlier when I threw myself at Dylan.” She chuckled. “Why else do you think I did it? Nothing like testing the water.”
Sam grimaced, remembering her earlier jealousy. She hoped she wasn’t that transparent; no wonder Dylan had looked so smug.
“Test all you like,Bony.”
Ebony’s chuckles grew to raucous laughter. “Youarejealous. Though don’t worry, I’m not interested in Dylan. I have other fish to fry and they’re tastier than him.”
Sam doubted that. She’d never met a man who compared to Dylan Harmon. It wasn’t just his charisma and his looks, not to mention the fact he kissed like a dream. He exuded an indefinable quality that attracted her against her better judgement.
“So what are you going to do about your parents?”
“As long as they stay in Brisbane and keep that sleaze Max away, I’m safe.” Sam paused for a moment, then clicked her fingers as an idea flashed into her head. “That’s where you come in.”
“Huh?”
Sam wrapped an arm around Ebony’s shoulder. “As my best friend, I consider it your duty to look after my interests.”
“What do you think I’ve been doing? Don’t forget who got you this job in the first place.”
“I know, but I need your help. If you could feed back some vital info, like how close I am to Dylan, how an announcement isn’t far off, how happy I am in Melbourne with him, then wouldn’t that assuage their curiosity? You’ll be reinforcing what they’ve heard from Quade and considering how close we are, it would mean more coming from you.”
Ebony’s eyes narrowed. “And how am I suppose to do this?”
“Through your goodfriendPeter, of course.” Sam snickered. “I’m sure you could arrange anotheraccidentalmeeting.”
Once again, colour suffused her friend’s cheeks. “Okay, smarty-pants. Maybe I have got a thing for your brother, and our meeting wasn’t so coincidental. But lying to him doesn’t exactly help my cause. What if he finds out? He won’t look twice at me.”
“Please, Eb,” Sam cajoled. “You don’t want me married off to an ancient creep like Max and whisked away to Europe, do you?”
“As if that would happen,” Ebony snorted. “Max is as Australian as you.”
“Who thinks like my father, a refugee of Russia’s fifteenth century. So, what do you say? Will you do it?”
A mischievous gleam shone from Ebony’s dark eyes. “Fine, I’ll do it. On one condition.”
Sam desperately needed Ebony’s co-operation if her plan was to succeed, but she’d never been any good at paying a price.
Wasn’t that what dragged her into this mess in the first place?
Her parents, thanks to their old-fashioned European values, felt that she owed them and her heritage in some way. And, according to them, the only way to do it was marry a fellow descendent of the Russian aristocracy and produce a dozen royal heirs.
“What’s the condition?”
“You put in a good word for me with Peter.”
Sam sighed in relief. Pointing out Ebony’s good points to her Neanderthal brother would be a small price to pay for her friend’s co-operation.
“No worries. Though personally, I think you need your head read.”
“No accounting for taste, is there?”
Sam heard the uncertainty in her friend’s voice and remorse flooded her. Who was she to judge matters of the heart? Look at her predicament with Dylan, her billionaire boss.
She hugged Ebony. “I’m glad you’re here, Eb. It’ll be great catching up. I’ve missed you.”
“Ditto, girlfriend.” She squirmed out of Sam’s arms. “Enough of the mushy stuff. I’ll leave you to unpack. See you at dinner.”