Page 131 of Kiss Heaven Goodbye

‘Feeling together,’ said Alex. ‘Feeling settled.’

Melissa laughed. ‘You say it like it’s this strange and crazy thing.’

In a way, it was. Even when he was with Emma, there was always something that made him feel displaced or anxious: his insecurities about Jez Harrison or the worry of failure. But with Melissa, he felt safe and confident. All the pressure seemed to lift when she was around.

‘Well, how do you feel about being Mrs Alex Doyle?’ he asked.

Her hand covered her mouth, her blue eyes wide. She looked shocked.

‘What?’ he asked.

‘Al, you’re not proposing to me, are you?’

It was his turn to look surprised. Actually he had simply been asking if she was feeling as contented and fuzzy as he was; did she like being seen as ‘Mrs Alex Doyle’, his missus. But still . . . It wasn’t such a mad idea, was it? In idle moments, he’d been toying with the notion of growing old together, having a tribe of beautiful mini-Melissas and retiring to a ranch in Wyoming or somewhere. And God, she was beautiful, he thought, gazing into her perfect, beaming face, breathless with anticipation. What the fuck are you waiting for? he asked himself.

‘Yes, I am,’ he said.

‘In that case yes, yes, yes,’ she squealed, straddling him and covering his face with kisses. Laughing, he rolled over on top of her, but she was squirming so much that they slipped off the bed with a thump. There was a moment’s delay, then they both burst out laughing. Scrambling to his feet, Alex grabbed the bedside phone. ‘OK, this calls for a celebration,’ he said, dialling room service. ‘I’ll get them to send up their biggest bottle of champagne. One of those Necubanezzers or whatever they’re called.’

‘No, don’t,’ she said, taking the receiver from him. ‘Let’s go out to celebrate.’

‘Out where?’

‘I promised a friend of mine we’d go to her party.’

Alex pulled a face. ‘Can’t we just stay in bed and pour Dom Perignon all over each other?’

She put her hands on her hips and pouted. ‘The sexiest man in the world has just proposed to me. I want to tell the world!’ she said.

‘Well, if you put it that way . . .’ He smiled. ‘So where is it?’

‘It’s at this amazing house in Berkshire. Belongs to some Middle Eastern gazillionaire. Plus it’s my friend’s thirtieth birthday.’

‘OK,’ said Alex.‘But only if I can help you dress,’ he added, sliding his hand inside her lacy panties.

‘Please!’ Melissa giggled. ‘I’m an engaged woman, what would my fiancé say?’

‘I think he’d say I was a very lucky man,’ he growled, pushing her back on the bed.

It took over an hour to get to the party, but pulling through the gates of Chambrey Park estate, a huge, wildly romantic Jacobean manor house set in extensive grounds, Alex knew it was going to be a lavish affair: the perfect place to celebrate.

‘You’ve not even told me who your friend is,’ said Alex. He had spent the entire journey happily listening to Melissa debate wheth

er the Santa Ynez ranch or the Post Ranch Inn would be the perfect place to have the ceremony.

‘Oh, she owns a fashion company, I wear a lot their stuff on the red carpet. Rivera, they’re just amazing.’

‘You don’t mean Sasha Sinclair?’ he said incredulously. Alex didn’t know much about women’s fashion, but it would be hard to live in LA and not be aware of Sasha’s incredible rise as a style icon.

‘Do you know her? I guess she’s British too, so you would, right?’

‘We went to school together actually,’ he said, feeling suddenly nervy. ‘On holiday too.’

‘You didn’t sleep with her, did you?’ Melissa said, narrowing her eyes.

‘Of course not,’ he said defensively. ‘She went out with my best friend. I haven’t seen her in over ten years.’

‘Well in that case,’ said Melissa, brightening, ‘you can have a little reunion, can’t you? It’ll be a double celebration.’