| Angelina knew that Paul hadn't expected to have to climb up Beachy Head in the middle of the stormiest day of the year. Purely in order to gain her affections. But she always liked to offer her potential menfolk a challenge - it was what all the magazines told her to do.
Right now, she was inspecting her French manicure - freshly painted today - and trying to ignore the grunts, groans and muffled shrieks coming from the cliff. She assumed it was Paul. It must be. There wasn't anyone else vying for her attention at the moment, so no reason for anyone apart from her intended to be there. Was there?
Surreptitiously, she flipped open her mobile, trying to keep both it and herself dry in the torrential rain, and pressed the familiar code for her best friend.
Georgina answered at once. "Has he proposed yet, darling?"
"No, don't be stupid," Angelina shouted back, hoping she could be heard at the other end, but not by her clifftop Casanova. "He's still climbing. Mind you, if I don't see any action soon, I'll ring the Coastguard. I don't want to seem unreasonable."
"Darling, you never do. Good luck."
And, with that, Georgina disconnected the call. Angelina grimaced. She knew Georgina wasn't really a girly chat kind of person, but even so she'd hoped for rather more. She had nothing else to do now on the top of this god-forsaken cliff apart from wait for Paul. She was already fed up with admiring the odd gull brave enough to venture into the wind or watching people fleeing down the path to safety.
With a sigh, she stepped a little closer to the cliff-edge.
"Paul? Are you there?" she yelled. "I'm getting cold up here - can't you hurry it up?"
No answer. Damn it.
Crouching down and clutching her Armani scarf so the wind didn’t catch it, she crept nearer still to danger and shouted again. "Paul?"
The response wasn't what she expected. Instead of seeing her handsome hero ready to plight his troth, a distinctly female arm reached out from the cliff and grabbed her scarf, pulling her towards the wild sea. A moment later, and a sharp push from behind sent the unfortunate Angelina hurtling over the edge and down to the unforgiving rocks below. Her screams were whipped away by the wind.
A few moments later, and the taciturn Georgina was being pulled to safety by the treacherous Paul.
"Thank God you're safe," he breathed in her ear as he held her at last in his arms.
"Of course I am," she snorted. "Around here there's only room for one woman on top."
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