They’ve got a date—at the altar!

International bestselling author Carole Mortimer has written more than 115 books, and now Mills & Boon® is proud to conclude her popular CALENDAR BRIDES trilogy.

Meet the Calendar sisters:

January—is she too proud to become a wife?

March—can any man tame this free spirit?

May—will she meet her match?

These women are beautiful, proud and spirited—and now they have three rich, powerful and incredibly sexy tycoons ready to claim them as their brides!

The Deserving Mistress
Carole Mortimer

www.millsandboon.co.uk

For Matthew—I’m so proud of you.

Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

Dedication

Table of Contents

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

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

‘ARE you having a heart attack or just resting?’

May had heard the approach of the car into the farmyard, had even managed to slightly raise one eyelid in order to register the fact that it wasn’t a vehicle she recognised. Which meant her visitor was either lost, or a seed or fertilizer salesman, neither of which raised enough enthusiasm to rouse her from her sitting position on the convenient bale of hay outside the milking shed.

She managed a grunt of acknowledgement. ‘Which do you think?’

‘In all honesty—I’m not sure!’ The man sounded slightly surprised by his own uncertainty, as if it weren’t an emotion that came naturally to him.

May managed to pry that single eyelid slightly open a second time, just enough to be able to have a look at her unexpected visitor.

Probably aged in his mid to late thirties, the man was tall, very much so, with thick dark hair that looked inclined to curl, dark brows frowning over piercing grey eyes, an arrogant slash of a nose, his mouth grimly set over a squarely determined chin.

Uncertainty about anything certainly wouldn’t sit easily on those broad shoulders, either!

‘Well, let me know when you’ve made up your mind.’ May sighed wearily, closing her eyelid again.

‘Hmm,’ he murmured thoughtfully. ‘I’ve never actually seen anyone have a heart attack, but I’m sure they should be in more pain than you appear to be in. On the other hand, falling asleep sitting outside on a bale of hay, in a temperature that can’t be much above freezing, doesn’t seem too comfortable, either!’ he concluded dryly.

May gave a dismissive movement of her shoulders. ‘Anywhere is comfortable to fall asleep when you’ve been up all night.’

‘Ah,’ the man murmured knowingly.

She opened her eyes just wide enough to glare at him. ‘With the vet,’ she defended impatiently before closing her eyes again.

‘I see,’ the man drawled wryly.

May gave a groan as she roused herself to sit up on the bale of hay, every muscle in her body seeming to ache as she rubbed sleep-drowsed eyes before frowning up at her visitor.

When she viewed him more closely, it was possible to see the arrogant lift of his square-cut chin, the complete self-confidence in the way that he stood and the hardness of his handsome features. Just the type of man she felt like dealing with after a sleepless night!

‘Can I help you?’ she prompted irritably.

‘That depends,’ the man murmured ruefully.

‘On what?’ She sighed at this procrastination, really in no mood to deal with a lost out-of-season tourist or indeed a pushy salesman.

He shrugged those broad shoulders. ‘On whether or not your name happens to be Calendar.’

Not a lost out-of-season tourist. A seed or fertilizer salesman, then.

‘It could be.’ She pushed herself up onto her feet with effort, looking up to find the man was still seven or eight inches taller than her own five feet eight in height.

The man gave her a considering look, laughter glinting in those piercing grey eyes now.

Which wasn’t so surprising, May acknowledged, easily able to visualise the scarecrow figure she must represent. Her wellington boots were muddy, her jeans likewise; worse, she was still wearing the same clothes she had put on yesterday morning, not having been to bed yet or indeed managed to get inside for a refreshing shower. Her face was probably smeared with dirt from lying on the barn floor most of the night, a woollen hat pulled down low over her ears, mainly to keep out the bitingly cold wind but also to keep her long dark hair from the same muddy fate as the rest of her.

Yes, she had no doubts she did look rather funny. But at the moment, exhausted as she was, she wasn’t in the mood to laugh, at herself or anyone else.

‘You don’t sound too sure,’ the man drawled derisively.

‘I’m not.’ She shrugged, sighing heavily. ‘Look, I have no idea what you’re selling, and I probably don’t want any anyway, but if you could come back tomorrow I might at least be willing to talk about it—’

‘Selling?’ he repeated frowningly. ‘But I’m not the one—I have a better idea,’ he stated briskly as May gave a weary yawn, at the same time swaying slightly on her feet. ‘Let’s go into the farmhouse.’ He took a firm hold of her arm. ‘I’ll make you some coffee. Strong and black,’ he decided after another glance at her face, her eyes appearing a deeper green against her paleness. ‘And maybe then we can introduce ourselves properly.’

May wasn’t sure she wanted to be introduced to this man, properly or otherwise, but the promise of making her coffee was certainly a strong inducement to at least letting him in as far as the kitchen. He probably made good coffee—he looked the sort of man who excelled at most things he did! And he didn’t exactly look the type of man who felt the need to pounce on some unsuspecting female—in fact, with those looks, she suspected it was probably usually the other way round!

‘Done!’ she accepted huskily, allowing herself to be guided across the yard and into the kitchen, sitting down on one of the kitchen chairs as the man moved dexterously about the kitchen preparing a pot of strong coffee.

Lord, that smelt good, she acknowledged a few minutes later as the strong aroma of brewing coffee filled the warmth of the room. A cup or two might even help her to stay awake long enough to complete her chores for the morning.

It had been a long night, if ultimately a successful one, and the thought of all the jobs she still had to do had been the reason she’d sat down wearily on the bale of hay earlier. Only to fall asleep. Which, as this man had already pointed out, was not the most comfortable thing in the world to have done in late January.

‘Here you are.’ He placed a mug of strong black coffee in front of her before sitting down opposite her with another mug of his own, looking perfectly at ease in the confines of her untidy kitchen. ‘I’ve added two sugars,’ he told her frowningly. ‘You look as if you need the energy.’

May didn’t normally take sugar in her coffee, but she accepted that her visitor was right as she sipped the strong, sweet brew, instantly feeling the surge as the caffeine and sugar hit her bloodstream.

‘I’ve made up my mind,’ he murmured softly.

‘Sorry?’ May glanced across at him, frowning slightly. Obviously the caffeine and sugar hadn’t done quite such a good job as she had thought—because she had no idea what he was talking about.

‘You were sleeping earlier,’ he stated firmly.

She grimaced. ‘I already told you that I was.’

He nodded. ‘Because you and the vet were up all night.’

When he put it like that…! ‘With a ewe that was having a difficult time lambing,’ she explained dryly. Not that it was any of this man’s business, but still…

Their vet, John Potter, was a man of fifty or so, had been married for twenty years, and had three teenage children; it wouldn’t do to have that sort of speculations spread around the neighbourhood. It wouldn’t do her own reputation too much good, either!

‘Mother and twins are all doing well,’ she added dryly as this man continued to look at her with raised brows. ‘Look, I’m grateful for the coffee and everything, but I really don’t think I’m in any fit condition to—’

‘Good Lord!’ the man gasped suddenly.

‘What…?’ May was arrested in the action of removing her woollen hat, long dark hair cascading down over her shoulders and back.

He blinked, frowning darkly. ‘You—I—for a moment— You reminded me of someone else.’ He gave a dismissive shake of his head, but the dark frown remained on his scowling features. ‘Who are you?’ he breathed softly.

May gave him a scathing glance. ‘Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that? After all, I live here!’ she reminded him impatiently.

‘Yes. Yes, of course.’ The man seemed to shake himself slightly, although his frowning gaze remained fixed on her face.

What on earth could he see there to have caused this reaction? May wondered frowningly. With her long dark hair, deep green eyes, classical features, her looks were nothing exceptional. In fact, she had two younger sisters who looked very much the same as she did! Besides, dressed in her filthy clothing, her face probably covered in mud and goodness knew what else, she was hardly a glamorous figure. And this man, with his arrogant good looks and tailored clothes, did not look as if he usually bothered to look at mud-covered women farmers!

‘Well?’ she prompted irritatedly as he simply continued to stare.

‘Well what…? Ah.’ He shifted slightly in his chair as he obviously recalled her previous question, making no effort to answer her as his gaze roamed curiously around the kitchen, but mainly concentrating on the flagstone floor.

‘What are you doing?’ May finally demanded impatiently.

That piercing grey gaze returned to her face, this man seeming to have recovered from whatever had been bothering him about the way she looked. ‘Looking for where you might have hidden the bodies, of course,’ he drawled dryly.

Was she still asleep? Had her wonderful dream, where a handsome stranger appeared from nowhere and made her delicious coffee, turned into some sort of nightmare? Was she merely dreaming that she was sitting in her own kitchen, drinking coffee with a perfect stranger?

Because she certainly seemed to have lost the plot somewhere, this man’s question making absolutely no sense to her!

Perhaps she wasn’t dreaming. Perhaps this was all real. Perhaps this man was an escapee from a lunatic asylum!

‘What bodies?’ she prompted warily.

He was smiling when her gaze returned to his face, as if perfectly able to read her last, disturbing thought. ‘Which one are you? May? March? Or January?’ he prompted curiously.

Her wariness increased at his knowledge of her own name and those of her two sisters, too. An escapee from a lunatic asylum probably wouldn’t know such things, but that didn’t mean this man wasn’t still dangerous.

‘I’m May,’ she answered brightly, forcing herself to an alertness she really didn’t feel. ‘But I’m expecting March and January back at any moment,’ she lied.

One of her sisters was still in the Caribbean with her fiancé, and the other one had just gone to London with her fiancé to meet his family. But until she knew who this man was, and what he was doing here, she certainly didn’t want him to know how completely alone she was here.

His mouth twisted into a humourless smile. ‘Somehow I don’t think so,’ he murmured softly, that silver-grey gaze intent on the paleness of her face. ‘So you’re May,’ he murmured consideringly.

‘I just said so,’ she confirmed defensively, shoulders tensed as she faced him across the table. ‘And you are…?’

‘I am.’ He nodded unhelpfully, obviously enjoying her discomfort now.

May stood up forcefully, somehow feeling a little more in control of this situation once she was higher than he was—but at the same time knowing how quickly that would change if he were to stand up, too. ‘Look, I didn’t ask you here—’

‘Ah, but you did,’ he cut in softly, his voice almost a purr now, at the same time that his eyes glowed with challenge. ‘In fact, I have it from two very reliable sources that you expressly wished to meet me face to face,’ he assured her dismissively.

‘I did?’ May repeated slowly, suddenly becoming very still, looking at him with new eyes now, that mention of ‘two very reliable sources’ setting off alarm bells inside her head.

Mid to late thirties, very self-assured, obviously wealthy now that she took a good look at his leather jacket and designer-labelled jeans. More to the point, he had obviously already known she was one of the Calendar sisters when he arrived here.

Those alarm bells began to jingle so loudly they threatened to deafen her!

She knew who this man was—

‘Jude Marshall,’ he introduced confidently even as he stood up and held out his hand, knowing by the shocked look on her face seconds ago that the introduction was unnecessary.

Under other circumstances, that look of horror on her face at exactly who he was might possibly have been amusing. Possibly… Although he doubted it. It wasn’t the usual reaction to his identity that he experienced from beautiful women. And May Calendar, despite her tired state, was an exceptionally beautiful woman.

She still stared at him, making no effort to shake the hand he held out to her. ‘But—but—you’re English!’ she burst out accusingly.

Jude’s hand dropped back to his side as he once again sat down on one of the chairs. ‘Ah, now that is a debatable point,’ he drawled, amused now by her stunned expression.

‘Either you are or you aren’t,’ May Calendar snapped dismissively, at the same time obviously making great efforts to regain her equilibrium after the shock of realising he was the man who had been trying to buy this farm for the last two months.

He shrugged. ‘My mother is American, but my father is English,’ he explained dryly. ‘I was born in America, but educated in England. I visit America a lot, socially as well as on business, but my base is in London. So what do you think?’ He quirked dark brows.

She gave him a resentful glare. ‘I doubt you would want to hear what I think!’

‘Probably not,’ he drawled ruefully.

She was taking her coat off now, revealing that the bulky garment had hidden a curvaceous slenderness, her green jumper the exact colour of her eyes, denims fitting snugly over narrow thighs and long legs.

‘Tell me,’ Jude murmured softly. ‘Do your sisters look anything like you?’

‘Exac— Why do you want to know?’ she amended her initial confirmation to a guarded wariness.

He shrugged. ‘Just curious.’

‘No, you weren’t,’ May Calendar said confidently. ‘Those bodies you mentioned a few minutes ago, you wouldn’t happen to be referring to Max Golding, your lawyer, and Will Davenport, your architect, would you?’

Bright as well as beautiful, Jude mentally conceded. The Calendar sisters—the one he had met so far, at least—were absolutely nothing like the three little old ladies he had assumed them to be several weeks ago when he’d first initiated the buying of their—this!—farm.

‘What do you think?’ he prompted unhelpfully.

‘You’re fond of answering a question with a question, aren’t you?’ May murmured consideringly as she moved to refill her coffee mug.

It was a defence mechanism he had perfected over the years, meant that he usually obtained more information than he gave—and it wasn’t something that most people easily recognised!

He frowned darkly. ‘Obviously you share the same trait,’ he bit out tersely.

She shrugged narrow shoulders. ‘We could carry on like this all morning—except I don’t have all morning to waste exchanging verbal arrows with you,’ she added hardly.

‘Because you and the vet spent a sleepless night together,’ he came back with deliberate provocation.

Angry colour darkened her normally magnolia cheeks. ‘I have already explained about that once, I don’t intend doing so again!’ she snapped dismissively. ‘What is it you want, Mr Marshall?’ she prompted challengingly.

Having now met the elder of the three Calendar sisters, found her to be absolutely nothing like he had presumed her to be, he wasn’t absolutely sure. And that wasn’t a feeling he was particularly comfortable with.

‘Well, you might start off by telling me where Will and Max are?’ he prompted cautiously.

‘Assuming their bodies aren’t hidden under the kitchen flagstones, after all?’ she came back scathingly.

‘Assuming that, yes,’ he conceded with a humourless smile.

May Calendar gave a derisive shake of her head. ‘They aren’t.’

‘Well?’ he pushed impatiently a few seconds later when she added nothing to that remark.

She gave him a considering look, green eyes narrowed, her thoughts unreadable even to his experienced eye. ‘Will is in London. Max is in the Caribbean,’ she finally told him economically.

Jude drew in an impatient breath. ‘And your two sisters are where?’

‘March is in London. January is in the Caribbean,’ she informed him with a challenging lift of her chin.

‘How coincidental,’ he drawled dryly.

In fact, he had already known exactly where Max and Will were, and who they were with; he had just wanted to see if May Calendar was willing to tell him as much. She obviously was!

‘Not really—March and January naturally wanted to be with their fiancés,’ she told him with satisfaction.

So Jude had gathered when he had received first a telephone call from Max over a week ago telling him of his engagement to January Calendar, and then a second telephone call from Will a couple of days ago telling him of his engagement to March Calendar!

To say he was surprised by the fact that his two friends were engaged to marry anyone, let alone two of the Calendar sisters, was an understatement.

The three men had been to school together, had worked together for years; despite relationships with numerous women over those years, Jude had always assumed that none of them would ever make the commitment to falling in love, let alone getting married. Obviously he had been wrong.

And that was something else he didn’t admit to too freely!

He stood up abruptly. ‘You asked me what I wanted a few minutes ago,’ he rasped. ‘I want exactly what Max was sent here to do before he fell in love with your sister, and that was to buy this farm!’

Her head tilted defensively. ‘And I’m sure he’s told you that it isn’t for sale!’

Jude’s eyes narrowed icily. ‘Yes, he’s told me.’

‘And?’

The challenge was evident in her voice, as was the underlying tone of resentment. Both of which were going to get him precisely nowhere, Jude realised.

He forced himself to relax slightly, his smile lightly cajoling. ‘May, surely you’ve realised, after the last few days of managing on your own here, that you just can’t do it?’

She stiffened angrily, green eyes flashing with the emotion. ‘What I can or cannot do is none of your business, Mr Marshall. And I don’t remember giving you permission to call me by my first name, either,’ she added churlishly.

He bit back the angry retort that sprang so readily to his lips, at the same time marvelling at the fact that this woman had managed to incite him to such an emotion. Usually he kept his emotions tightly under control, having found that this gave him an advantage over— Over what? His opponent, he had been going to say…

Was May Calendar really that?

Looking at her, tired from hard work and a sleepless night, her face ethereally lovely, much too slender than was healthy for her, it was difficult to think of her in that light. In fact, he was starting to feel guilty for having added to her obvious problems of the day.

Which was a highly dangerous direction for him to have taken!

‘Look, maybe this isn’t the best time for the two of us to talk,’ he dismissed lightly. ‘You’re obviously busy, and tired, and—’

‘And coming back tomorrow, when I might be neither of those things, isn’t going to change my answer one little bit,’ she assured him scathingly. ‘I’ll tell you what I first told Max, your lawyer, and then Will, your architect—this farm is not for sale!’

Jude frowned at her frustratedly. She really was the most stubborn, intransigent—

‘Certainly not to someone like you,’ she continued insultingly. ‘We don’t need a health and country club where the Hanworth Estate used to be, Mr Marshall,’ she scorned. ‘Or the eighteen-hole golf course you intend to make of this farmland!’

She had done her homework, at least, Jude acknowledged admiringly—because that was exactly what he intended doing with this land once it was his. Unless, of course, Max or Will—

No! He didn’t believe either man, no matter what his romantic connection with this family, would have betrayed the confidence he had in them. In fact, he knew that they hadn’t, had already turned down Max’s offer of resignation because of a ‘conflict of interest’, and viewed the two sets of plans Will had drawn up for this latest business venture, one including the Calendar farm, the other one not doing so.

He shrugged. ‘That’s only your personal opinion—Miss Calendar,’ he added pointedly.

She shook her head. ‘I believe, if you cared to ask around in the area, that you would find it’s the general consensus of opinion, and not just mine.’

He didn’t have time for this, Jude decided as he zipped up his jacket impatiently, better able to appreciate exactly what sort of brick wall Max and Will had come up against in their efforts to secure this farm for development. But May Calendar was going to find that he was made of much sterner stuff than either of his two friends and work colleagues, that he wasn’t so easily distracted by a helpless female—or, indeed, three of them!

‘We’ll talk about this some other time, Miss Calendar,’ he dismissed uninterestedly, pausing at the door to add, ‘It’s enough for now that we have introduced ourselves to each other.’ And that she now knew what sort of opposition she was up against.

Because Jude had no intention of giving up on his plans for the property he had already bought in this area, plans that included the Calendar sisters’ farm.

No intention whatsoever!

CHAPTER TWO

WELL, that was certainly a turn-up for the book, May acknowledged as she dropped down weakly onto one of the kitchen chairs after Jude Marshall’s abrupt departure.

He was the very last person she had expected to see today—or, indeed, at any other time.

Jude Marshall, and the corporation that he headed, had become something of an elusive spectre in the background of the sisters’ lives the last couple of months, ever since they had received a letter from that corporation with an offer to buy their farm. A farm that, as far as any of the Calendar sisters was concerned, had never been for sale.

That initial letter had come from America, which was why they had all assumed that Jude Marshall was American, too—and why, when he’d spoken in that precise English accent on his arrival a short time ago, May had made absolutely no connection between her unexpected visitor and the man whose very name the three sisters had all come to loathe the last two months.

Jude Marshall was a surprise in more ways than one, May acknowledged frowningly. She hadn’t expected him to be so arrogantly good-looking, for one thing, or have him moving capably about her kitchen making her a much-needed mug of coffee, for that matter!

He was also, she acknowledged less readily, completely right about the strain of running the farm on her own the last few days since her sister March had gone off to London to meet Will’s parents, and her younger sister January had telephoned from the Caribbean to say that she and Max had decided to stay on for an extra week. January had sounded so happy and carefree that May hadn’t liked to tell her youngest sister that, with March away, too, she was managing here on her own, brightly assuring January that everything was just fine here, and wishing her and Max a wonderful time.

Something she certainly wasn’t having herself!

This last few days on her own had been a learning experience, was indicative of how it would be once March and January were married and living away from the farm. Not good, May knew.

But that was still no reason to give in to Jude Marshall’s pressure to sell the farm to him, she decided with a determined straightening of her spine. Having now met the man, and seeing firsthand just how arrogantly assured he was, May was even more determined not to do that!

Although she didn’t feel quite so confident later that evening when she staggered back into the farmhouse, too tired to even bother to cook herself an evening meal.

The coffee remaining in the pot from this morning was stewed and only lukewarm, but it was better than nothing.

No, it wasn’t, she decided after the first mouthful, putting the mug back down on the table with a disgusted grimace.

She was so tired, so utterly exhausted, resting her head down on her folded arms as she sagged tiredly onto the kitchen table. Just a few minutes’ rest and she would be all right again, she told herself. Just a few minutes…

‘Come on, May, it’s time to wake up,’ a gently intruding voice cajoled. ‘May?’ A gentle shaking of her arm accompanied this second intrusion.

She had been having such a nice dream, she frowned resentfully, had been lying on a golden beach, the sun warm and soothing, with a tropical blue sea lapping lightly against the sand at her feet. But the stiffness in her folded arms as she slowly woke to consciousness, aided by the ache in her back, told her only too clearly that it had unfortunately been just a dream!

‘May, if you don’t wake up in a minute, I’m going to assume that this time you really have had a heart attack—and commence emergency mouth-to-mouth resuscitation!’ that intruding voice drawled mockingly.

Jude Marshall’s voice!

She recognised those clipped English tones only too easily this time, raising her head to glare at him resentfully, very aware that she probably looked worse now than she had this morning, still in the same clothes, still as dirty—and, to add to her disarray, she probably had crease marks on her face now from having fallen asleep in such an uncomfortable position!

He grinned down at her unconcernedly. ‘I thought the mere suggestion of my having to carry out mouth-to-mouth resuscitation might revive you!’

She gave an irritated sigh. ‘What do you want, Mr Marshall?’

‘You seem very fond of asking me that.’ He raised mocking brows. ‘A fine way to talk to someone who has brought you dinner,’ he admonished derisively, holding up a plastic carrier bag. ‘Chinese take-away,’ he explained economically. ‘Having seen how tired you were this morning, I didn’t think you were going to be in any fit state to cook yourself a hot meal this evening.’

May frowned up at him, still not quite awake, but aware enough to view his kindness—and the man himself!—with suspicion. The fact that his surmise had obviously been a correct one wasn’t in question—but his response to it certainly was.

‘And why should that bother you, Mr Marshall?’ she prompted warily, her sleepy state fast disappearing now as she frowned up at him suspiciously.

‘Stop dithering, woman, and tell me where the plates are so that I can serve this stuff before it goes cold!’ He put the bag down on the table in front of her.

‘Second cupboard on the right,’ she supplied somewhat dazedly. Plates, he had said. In the plural. Surely this man didn’t intend sitting down to dinner with her?

But as he set out two places on the table along with the two big plates, and then commenced to put out the cartons of Chinese food, it appeared that was exactly what he intended doing!

‘Er—Mr Marshall—’

‘Could we get something clear right now, May?’ He straightened, looking down at her with narrowed eyes.

She stiffened warily, wondering exactly what he was going to say. ‘Yes?’

He nodded abruptly. ‘I’m sure you have your reasons for being deliberately rude to me—I’m sure you think you have,’ he stressed firmly as she would have protested. ‘But I have no intention of sitting down to dinner—a dinner that I actually brought here, remember?—with someone who insists on calling me “Mr Marshall” in that unfriendly tone.’ He raised dark brows pointedly.

May’s cheeks warmed at the accusation. She was being deliberately rude, there was no denying that. But he was being deliberately friendly, which was just as unacceptable!

‘Okay?’ he prompted determinedly.

May looked up at him unblinkingly, wanting to tell him to go away, and to take his dinner with him. But the smell of the food was so tempting, her mouth watering at the mixture of aromas that was wafting up from the array of cartons he had put out in the middle of the table. If she told him to go away, he would probably take all this wonderful food with him!

‘Okay,’ she accepted abruptly. ‘Although—’

‘Okay will do for just now,’ Jude cut in derisively. ‘Eat,’ he added curtly, sitting down at the place opposite her.

She couldn’t remember the last time someone had ordered her about in this way. Probably not since her father had died a year ago, she recognised frowningly. But anyone less like her father—or, indeed, a father-figure—than Jude Marshall, she was less likely to meet!

For one thing she was completely aware of him as the two of them helped themselves to the food, of the slender strength of his ringless hands, the dark hairs that began at his wrist and probably covered his arms and chest, of the way his dark hair fell endearingly across his forehead unless pushed back by an impatient hand, of the piercing intelligence of those silver-grey eyes, of the dark shadow at his jaw that implied he probably had to shave twice a day, but had omitted to spend time on that second shave today.

Because he had chosen to drive out here and bring her dinner instead? Probably, she acknowledged slightly dazedly. In fact, she found it difficult to believe at all that she was sitting here eating a Chinese take-away with Jude Marshall, of all people!

‘This is very good, thank you,’ she told him huskily, the hot, tasty food more welcome than she had even imagined. And it had been supplied by Jude Marshall, a man she considered to be her enemy…

He looked across at her, eyes gleaming silver with amusement. ‘How hard was that to say?’ he mused dryly.

‘Very,’ she confirmed with a rueful grimace. ‘I hope I’m not keeping you from something? Or someone?’ she added frowningly.

‘Nothing that can’t wait.’ He shrugged dismissively.

May gave him a quizzical look. Did that mean there wasn’t someone waiting for him back at his hotel? Or that the person that was waiting for him wasn’t important enough for him to bother rushing back to?

Jude frowned as he saw her looking at him. ‘What did I say now?’ he prompted impatiently.

‘Nothing,’ she dismissed abruptly, deliberately turning her attention back to her food.

Although she was completely aware of the fact that he was still looking at her. If she was honest—and she usually was—she had to admit she had never been so aware of another person in her life before.

Just as she felt sorry for whoever—possibly?—might be waiting for him back at his hotel; it would be awful to be so unimportant to this man that his having dinner with a scruffy female farmer took priority. Even with the buying of this farm as the incentive.

‘I spoke to Max earlier this evening.’

May looked up at him sharply, but his bland expression was completely unenlightening. She moistened her lips before speaking, choosing her words carefully, deliberately infusing a lightness into her tone. ‘Did you tell him the two of us have met—finally?’ she couldn’t resist adding dryly.

Jude sat back, regarding her derisively. ‘Should I have done?’ he drawled.

He was doing it again—answering a question with a question.

Because he knew damn well that she would much rather Max, and consequently January, didn’t know of his presence in the area, or that he had already introduced himself to her—but especially that she was managing alone here on the farm.

January had had a pretty awful time of things at the beginning of the year, had been caught up in the sick workings of a stalker’s mind, May much relieved when her sister had become engaged to Max, even more pleased when he’d suggested taking her away for a few weeks’ holiday to get over the experience.

But she had no doubts that, were January to learn of Jude Marshall’s presence here, of the fact that May was alone on the farm, her sister would insist on coming back on the next available flight!

‘Well?’ she prompted impatiently.

Jude gave a rueful shake of his head as she neatly turned the tables back on him. ‘You’re right—we could go on like this all night, returning a question with a question!’

‘Not all night, no,’ May assured him scathingly. ‘Tonight I intend going to bed early, very early—and alone,’ she added so that there should be no more mistakes concerning that particular subject! ‘In fact—’ She broke off frowningly as a knock sounded on the door, shooting Jude Marshall an accusing look.

‘January would hardly knock to come into her own home,’ he easily read the accusation in that look—and the reason for it.

Which still didn’t tell her whether or not he had mentioned to Max that he had decided to come here himself as he and Will had failed to acquire the Calendar farm for him. But, then, even on this short an acquaintance, May already knew that Jude Marshall was decidedly economical in providing any sort of information about anything.

May stood up as a second knock sounded on the door. ‘We’ll talk on this subject more once I’ve dealt with my visitor,’ she warned before moving hurriedly to the door, intending to make it very clear to this man before he left this evening that January was not to be worried by the situation here.

And ‘situation’ it certainly was rapidly becoming, she decided dazedly as she opened the door to find David Melton standing on her doorstep.

Keen on amateur dramatics, May had joined the local society a couple of years ago, only to be spotted by David Melton, a renowned film director, when he’d come to visit his sister’s family for Christmas and spotted May as she’d performed in the local pantomime.

To her surprise he had offered her a part in the film he was to shoot in the summer, if the screen test he offered proved to be successful. It had. But, for very personal reasons of her own, May had decided to turn down his offer…

Which was why she had no idea what he was doing standing on her doorstep now.

Jude watched May’s face as she obviously recognised her visitor—but obviously wished that she didn’t, her expression a puzzling mixture of surprise and dismay.

He turned his narrowed gaze on the other man; probably aged forty or so, tall and slender, with short blond hair and a boyishly handsome face. Which told him precisely nothing, Jude acknowledged ruefully. The man could just be a salesman or something equally innocuous—although, from May’s reaction to seeing him, somehow Jude doubted it…

‘David,’ he heard May greet huskily.

‘I was in the area—I had to come, May,’ the man returned determinedly.

May shook her head. ‘I haven’t changed my mind,’ she told him firmly.

‘But—’

‘You’ll find someone else,’ she assured him, an uncomfortable glance in Jude’s direction letting the other man know that she wasn’t alone.

David shot Jude an impatient glance of his own before his attention returned determinedly to May. ‘I don’t want anyone else, May,’ he told her forcefully. ‘It has to be you. You’re perfect—’

‘I really don’t want to talk about this just now,’ May cut in firmly, obviously completely conscious of the listening Jude, even if the other man seemed unconcerned by his presence.

Curiouser and curiouser, Jude acknowledged consideringly. Was this David a spurned lover who simply refused to go away? Or something else? Although quite what that ‘something else’ could be Jude had no idea. Which brought him back to the spurned lover theory…Although, in the other man’s shoes, Jude would have been more than a little concerned at another man’s presence here alone with May. Unless the other man considered him to be insignificant in what was going on between him and May? A thought that Jude, who had never thought of himself as in the least ‘insignificant’ in any situation, found intensely irritating.

He stood up, moving to stand at May’s side, deliberately resting his hand on the door behind her. ‘Is there a problem, May?’ he prompted haughtily.

She shot him a frowning glance. ‘Nothing that I can’t handle. Thank you,’ she added belatedly.

Jude turned his attention on the other man, deliberately looking down the long length of his nose, topping the other man by at least three inches. ‘I’m afraid you’ve caught us right in the middle of eating our dinner…’ he said pointedly.

The other man looked displeased at this interruption. ‘I just wanted to have a few words with May—’

‘And, as I’ve just told you, we’re eating our evening meal,’ Jude bit out with hard dismissal, his gaze challenging on the other man now.

May looked up at him frowningly, seeming to sense that the situation was fast moving out of her control, turning back to David smilingly. ‘I appreciate your—continued interest,’ she told him warmly. ‘But, as I told you before, I’m really not interested.’

David shook his head. ‘I’m not giving up.’

May looked completely baffled as to what to do or say next to this man, shaking her head dazedly.

‘I don’t understand what went wrong,’ David continued forcefully. ‘One minute you were fine with everything that we had talked about, the plans we had made, and the next—’

‘How many times does she have to tell you she’s not interested?’ Jude cut in coldly, stepping forward slightly to drape a proprietorial arm about May’s narrow shoulders. Too narrow, he realised frowningly. She really was too thin, too delicate, to live the hard-working life that she so obviously did.

David’s gaze became guarded as he looked at that possessive arm about her shoulders. ‘And you would be…?’ he prompted slowly.

‘I would be a friend of May’s,’ Jude answered harshly.

‘I see,’ the other man murmured, obviously not seeing at all as he turned to look questioningly at May.

‘I would really much rather not talk about this any more, David,’ she told him regretfully. ‘I-it was a nice dream while it lasted,’ she added wistfully. ‘But it really isn’t for me. I’m sorry.’ She grimaced.

Her visitor drew in a ragged breath, hunching his shoulders as he thrust his hands into the pockets of his sheepskin jacket. ‘I’m not giving up,’ he assured her decisively. ‘I’ll be back.’ He nodded firmly. ‘Perhaps we can talk then.’

‘I wouldn’t count on it,’ Jude put in raspingly, his patience wearing very thin where this man was concerned. Couldn’t he see, and just accept, that May wasn’t interested? That she wanted him to leave and not come back to bother her?

Was this how Max and Will had felt, too? he wondered a little dazedly; protective, but at the same time finding their Calendar woman incredibly attractive?

Except that May Calendar was not his woman. Would never be his woman. Not if he had anything to say about it. And he most certainly did.

‘Are you staying with your sister again?’ May was talking to the other man again now. ‘I’ll ring you there some time tomorrow,’ she added quickly as she received confirmation of that fact with David’s nod.

‘I’ll be waiting for your call,’ he assured her huskily before turning his hard blue gaze on Jude. ‘Goodnight,’ he added coldly.

‘Goodbye,’ Jude returned with a challenging lift of his dark brows.

The other man gave a humourless smile of acknowledgement at the obviously male challenge before turning to walk across to his car, a sporty Jaguar, Jude noted with displeasure; obviously this David, whoever he was, was wealthy enough to help May if he wanted to. And, from their conversation, he obviously did.

And yet she seemed uninterested in whatever the other man had to offer, so perhaps—

‘And just what the hell did you think you were doing just now?’ May’s angry challenge was accompanied by the slamming of the door as she turned to face him, her cheeks fiery red with anger, her eyes glittering deeply green.

He raised mocking brows at the unexpected attack. ‘Trying to be helpful?’ he prompted pointedly. ‘The man was obviously bothering you, and so I—’

‘Helpful? Helpful?’ she repeated incredulously, hands clenched at her sides. ‘Can you drive a tractor?’

He blinked frowningly. ‘Unfortunately not.’

‘Milk a cow?’

He grimaced. ‘Definitely not!’

‘Nurse a weak lamb?’

He shrugged. ‘Probably not.’

‘Feed the hens and collect the eggs?’

He drew in an impatient breath, knowing exactly where this conversation was going. ‘Look, May—’

‘No, of course you can’t do any of those things!’ she answered her own questions impatiently. ‘But I can, and I do. And those are the only ways that you could possibly be of any help to me, Mr Marshall,’ she told him scathingly. ‘I really don’t know where you got the impression that I’m some helpless female that needs rescuing—’

‘Don’t you?’ he rasped pointedly.

She had the grace to blush, her exhausted condition earlier having been unmistakable. ‘That was an exceptional circumstance,’ she dismissed firmly. ‘Now, if you wouldn’t mind leaving…?’ She stood pointedly away from the door, her expression challenging.

Jude gazed at her frustratedly. She really was the most—

Were those tears he could see in those incredible green eyes? And if so, were they tears of sheer frustration with all the work she had to do, or were they for some other reason?

‘We haven’t finished our meal,’ he pointed out softly.

She gave a shake of her head. ‘I’m afraid I’ve completely lost my appetite.’

‘May—’

‘Will you just go?’ she cried emotionally, the tears welling against the darkness of her lashes now.

‘No—I won’t just go,’ he answered impatiently. ‘May, I don’t think for one minute that you’re a helpless female.’ How could he, when she had obviously been the female mainstay of this household since she was nothing but a child herself? ‘But you are wrecked, anyone can see that from just looking at you—’

‘Thanks!’ she snapped scathingly.

He sighed heavily. ‘There’s just no reasoning with you, is there?’

‘None at all,’ she bit out coldly.

Jude shook his head. He had never met a woman like May Calendar before. Had never felt like shaking and kissing a woman at the same time before, either—

Kissing…?

Damn it, yes, he wanted to kiss May Calendar! Wanted to sweep her up into his arms and kiss her until she was senseless. Until they were both senseless.

Which was why he most certainly wasn’t going to do it! ‘Fine,’ he rasped harshly, picking up his jacket from the back of the chair before walking determinedly to the door. ‘Any message for Max or your sister if he should happen to telephone again?’ he challenged hardly, already knowing from her reaction earlier to his casual mention of having spoken to Max that she did not want her youngest sister to know she was coping alone here.

She swallowed hard, her cheeks suddenly pale now. ‘No—’ she moistened dry lips ‘—no message. Except—’

‘Yes?’ He paused at the door.

She gave the ghost of a smile. ‘You could tell January that Ginny and the twins are all doing well. The ewe from last night, and her two lambs,’ she explained ruefully at his puzzled frown.

Jude gave an acknowledging inclination of his head, not having particularly enjoyed scoring that point, where Max and January were concerned, over a woman who was so exhausted she could hardly see straight. ‘I would get that early night if I were you, May—before you fall over!’ he rasped.

She gave a shake of her head. ‘I still have things to do.’

He gave an impatient shrug at her stubbornness. ‘Your choice,’ he bit out harshly. ‘But, from the look of things, they will still be there for you to do all over again tomorrow.’

She gave the hint of a smile. ‘My father used to say that.’

Used to. Because, as Jude now knew only too well, having checked up on the Calendar sisters a little more thoroughly after Max had got himself engaged to one of them, neither of the Calendar parents were still alive, the mother having died while the three girls were still very young, the father only a year ago.

Which really made him feel good about trying to buy the farm out from under them!

‘Then you should have listened to him!’ he rasped, no longer sure whether it was May or himself that he was angry with.

One thing he did know, he needed to get this whole thing back into perspective, to concentrate on his objective, which was to buy this land and then leave.

And, to do that, he had to get away from May Calendar.

Besides, April would be waiting for him back at the hotel. Charming, entertaining, thoroughly agreeable April.

May Calendar looked at him unblinkingly. ‘I did listen to him, Mr Marshall, but I don’t have to listen to you—’

‘That’s it!’ His patience, what there was of it, had been blown completely at her determined continuation of the formal ‘Mr Marshall’. Damn it, he had tried to be kind to her—even though she would so obviously have preferred that he wasn’t—to be reasonable; he had even bought her dinner.

With no ulterior motive? a little voice taunted inside his head.

And what if there had been? She could still have been a little more grateful than she had.

May eyed him mockingly now. ‘That’s what, Mr Marshall?’ She smiled tauntingly.

‘This,’ he bit out forcefully—seconds before he swept her up into his arms and kissed that mocking smile right off her lips.

Mistake, Jude, he admitted with an inward groan. Mistake!

She tasted of honey. Her lips were soft and responsive—probably because she was too surprised to do anything else, he acknowledged ruefully, even as he moulded her body against his, the warmth of her breasts crushed against his chest, the dark swathe of her silky hair falling down over his arm as he tilted her head back to deepen the kiss.

Nectar.

Sweet, sweet, nectar.

So intent was he on tasting that nectar that he didn’t at first notice the tiny fists pummelling against his chest, only coming to a full awareness of her resistance as she wrenched her lips away from his to glare up at him.

‘Let go of me,’ she ordered furiously, pushing ineffectually at his chest now. ‘You—you—’

‘Yes?’ he derided challengingly even as his arms dropped back to his sides and he stepped away from her.

It had taken several seconds to get his own raging emotions back under control, but now that he had…

Exactly what had he thought he was doing? Okay, so May was beautiful, immensely desirable, challenging—but she was also, in this particular situation, the opposition!

She put up a hand to her slightly swollen lips, her eyes wide and accusing as she looked up at him. ‘I have no idea where you thought such behaviour was going to get you, but… Get out,’ she told him quietly, shaking her head dazedly. ‘Just get out.’

Oh, he was going, intended putting as much distance between himself and this woman as possible.

She was dangerous. To his self-control. To his self-preservation. To his self-possessed existence!

He gave her a deliberately mocking smile. ‘Don’t feel too bad about responding, May,’ he said tauntingly. ‘You won’t be the first woman to do so—or the last,’ he added derisively.

If anything her face paled even more, those glittering green eyes the only colour in her face now. ‘Get out!’ she repeated between clenched teeth.

Jude calmly bent to pick up the jacket he had dropped seconds ago to take her into his arms, easily holding her accusing gaze as he put the jacket on, deliberately taking his time, much to her obvious impatience.

‘Have something else to eat, May,’ he drawled as he walked to the door. ‘It would be a pity to waste all that food just because you don’t like the person who bought it for you,’ he added dryly.

‘Goodbye, Mr Marshall,’ she said as pointedly as he had to the man called David a few minutes ago.

Jude paused in the open doorway. ‘Oh, not goodbye, May,’ he assured her grimly. ‘Unlike my—associates, I don’t intend leaving until I’ve done what I came here to do.’

She gave a scornful laugh. ‘Then I would suggest you start looking to buy a house in the area—because I’m not interested in selling the farm, to you or anyone else.’

‘No, you’re obviously not,’ he accepted lightly. ‘But your sisters may feel differently now that they are both engaged to be married.’

Jude regretted having made this last challenge even as he made it. He saw the way her cheeks paled once again, that slightly haunted look in those deep green eyes telling him that she was no longer as sure of her sisters’ feelings in the matter as she wanted him to think she was.

Making him feel like a complete heel.

Oh, he was determined, forceful, had never let a business challenge get the better of him, but he had never considered himself to be deliberately cruel before.

What the hell was wrong with him?

May Calendar, with her big green eyes, her magnolia skin, her air of fragility, that was what was wrong with him.

And it stopped right now!

‘Have a nice day,’ he told her glibly, closing the door softly behind him before strolling over to get back into his hire car.

Damn, damn, damn!

CHAPTER THREE

‘THIS is very kind of you, David.’ May smiled shyly across at him as they sat in the bar of the hotel restaurant while waiting to go to their table. ‘But I’m afraid it’s just a waste of your time, that it isn’t going to change anything,’ she added with a rueful shake of her head.

‘I don’t consider having dinner with a beautiful woman as time wasted,’ David Melton assured her huskily, blue gaze warm in the rugged handsomeness of his face.

He was so nice; that was what made all of this so difficult. That, and the fact that May really would have loved to accept the part in his forthcoming film he had repeatedly offered her. But, for reasons she had no intention of telling him—or, indeed, anyone else—the whole thing was simply impossible.

But she had kept her promise to telephone David at his sister’s earlier today, had repeated what she had told him in London a couple of weeks ago, and again yesterday evening, only to have him ask her to come out to dinner with him this evening. No pressure, he had assured her as she’d hesitated, just a friendly dinner together, when he wouldn’t even mention the film role if she would rather he didn’t.

It had been too tempting an offer for her to refuse, David extremely handsome as well as being a charmingly interesting man. And with the added incentive not to mention the film role…

And now she had been the one to introduce the subject…!

Primarily because she felt so guilty about the time David had taken to give her the screen test a couple of weeks ago—only to have her turn down his offer after that test had proved successful.

To be offered a film role, on the basis of one performance in a local pantomime, was the stuff that actresses’ dreams were made of, and May knew that David must wonder at her sanity for having turned down such an offer.

‘Does your reluctance concerning playing the role of Stella have anything to do with the man I met last night?’ David prompted lightly, looking at her over the top of his glass as he took a sip of the white wine he had ordered for them both as a pre-dinner drink.

‘The man you— Oh.’ May grimaced as she realised exactly whom he was talking about. ‘No,’ she assured him with a firm shake of her head. ‘Jude is a total irrelevance to this situation— What’s so funny?’ she prompted with a puzzled frown as he gave a husky chuckle.

He gave a rueful shake of his head. ‘I doubt that particular man has ever considered himself an irrelevance in any situation!’ he explained dryly.

May smiled at what she was sure was an accurate observation where Jude Marshall was concerned. ‘No, I’m sure that he hasn’t,’ she agreed. ‘But in this case, he is,’ she insisted firmly.

David gave her a puzzled glance. ‘Who is he, exactly?’

She knew what he was—exactly! Jude Marshall was a sneaky opportunist, a man who had taken advantage of her extreme tiredness the evening before; more importantly—he was trying to buy their farm out from under them.

‘No one of any importance,’ she dismissed hardly, remembering all too clearly that Jude had kissed her yesterday evening. Worse—she remembered that she had kissed him back.

She had been too surprised initially to do anything but stand in shocked immobility in Jude’s arms, but, once the shock had worn off, instead of pushing him away, as she should have done, she had responded. That was something she wasn’t about to forgive him for in a hurry!

‘I’m glad to hear it.’ But David still didn’t look totally convinced by her dismissal of Jude.

Time to change the subject, May decided—in fact, it was past time! ‘Are you staying in the area long?’

David shrugged. ‘Another couple of days or so, I think. May—’ he sat forward, his gaze suddenly intense ‘—there’s someone I would like you to meet while I’m here.’

Her eyes widened. ‘There is?’ As far as she was aware, the only people that David knew in the area were her and his sister’s family, and surely he didn’t want to introduce her to them?

She found him good company, had enjoyed the time they’d spent together when she’d gone to London for her screen test a couple of weeks ago, but this was the first time the two of them had gone out on anything resembling a social basis…

‘Yes.’ He was still watching her intently. ‘You see—’

‘Well, well, well, so you don’t spend all your time milking cows and feeding hens, after all,’ an all-too-familiar voice drawled mockingly.

May closed her eyes briefly, taking a deep breath before answering; Jude Marshall was positively the last person she had wanted to meet this evening. Well…maybe not the last person, she conceded frowningly, but he came pretty close.

‘Mr Marshall,’ she greeted wearily, deliberately keeping her expression noncommittal as she looked up at him.

Which wasn’t easy when he looked so devastatingly attractive!

She had thought David handsome in his dark suit and blue shirt when they’d met in the foyer of the hotel earlier, but Jude Marshall in a dinner suit was something else; his shoulders were wide, his waist tapered, his legs long and lean, the snowy white of his shirt emphasising the golden tan of his face and hands, those grey eyes appearing almost silver against that tanned skin.

May straightened determinedly. She was not going to sit here like some gauche schoolgirl overwhelmed by a handsome, sophisticated man. Even if that was how she felt…

‘Or wearing wellington boots and woollen hats,’ she returned dismissively, knowing that she at least looked presentable this evening.

Jude’s gaze swept assessingly over her appearance, grey eyes narrowed as he took in her newly washed hair as it swayed silkily over her shoulders, her dark green dress shimmering against her slender curves to reveal the silky length of her legs.

His gaze returned deliberately to her face. ‘Obviously not,’ he drawled before turning slowly to look at the man who sat with her. ‘I don’t believe we’ve been introduced…?’ He raised dark brows pointedly.

Other than behaving as rudely to Jude as he had to him the previous evening, May knew that David had no choice but to stand up and introduce himself.

‘David Melton.’ He held out his hand politely.

‘Jude Marshall,’ Jude returned as economically, an edge of mockery to his voice as he looked at the other man assessingly. ‘Melton…?’ he repeated slowly. ‘Now where have I—?’

‘I believe our table is ready, David,’ May cut in forcefully even as she rose gracefully to her feet, having noticed the waiter hovering around in the background trying to attract their attention. ‘If you’ll excuse us, Jude…’ she added decisively, green gaze challenging on his.

He returned that gaze steadily for several long seconds, and then his gaze slowly dropped down the slender length of her body. By the time his gaze returned to her face, May could feel the heated wings of colour in her cheeks.

As well as a slight trembling of her limbs, and a shortness of breath, as if she had been running…

‘You’re dining at the hotel?’ he prompted sharply.

May suffered a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. It had never occurred to her, when David had asked her to join him here for dinner, that, being the best hotel in the area, this was probably the hotel Jude Marshall was staying at. But it occurred to her now.

It also occurred to her, from the way he was dressed, that Jude Marshall was dining here, too. And not alone, if the formality of the dinner suit was anything to go by.

‘Obviously.’ She eyed him challengingly. ‘And you?’

‘Obviously,’ he returned dryly. ‘I’m just waiting for my dining companion,’ he confirmed lazily. ‘Perhaps the four of us could get together for a drink after we’ve eaten?’ Dark brows rose challengingly over those mocking grey eyes.

And perhaps they couldn’t! She was here with David, and it was pretty obvious that Jude’s dining companion was going to be a beautiful woman; the last thing she wanted was to sit and have a drink with the pair of them at the end of the evening. It would probably choke her.

‘I don’t think so—thank you,’ she added belatedly. ‘Some of us have to get up early in the morning,’ she added pointedly.

‘Thanks for the offer, anyway,’ David cut in cheerfully before the other man could come back with the cutting reply that was obviously hovering on those sculptured lips, David taking a firm hold of May’s arm as they turned to follow the waiter into the dining-room.

And May could feel that icy grey gaze following them every step of the way.

Her breath left her in a heavy sigh as she sat down at the table, the first indication that she had of having held it in, her legs feeling slightly shaky, too. But Jude Marshall had that effect on her, she acknowledged heavily; she seemed to want to either hit him or kiss him at any given moment—and just now the former had definitely won out.

‘I’m really sorry about that.’ She gave David a rueful smile. ‘I’m starting to feel as if that man is haunting me!’ Both waking and asleep.

Sleep, despite her exhausted state, had been very hard to come by the previous night, thoughts of Jude Marshall, of the way he had kissed her, preventing her from drifting into a relaxed state.

What on earth had prompted him to kiss her at all? Oh, she knew that he was angry with her, a frustrated anger, at her total indomitableness. But she wouldn’t have thought that was reason enough for him to have kissed her…?

David shrugged. ‘He is rather—forceful.’

That was one way of describing him! All that May really knew at this moment was that her evening was completely ruined, the very fact that Jude was eating in the same room as her enough to put her off her food. Or to relax enough to enjoy David’s company.

She sighed. ‘He’s a nuisance,’ she acknowledged heavily.

David gave her a searching glance. ‘Would you rather we ate somewhere else?’

She gave him an incredulous look. ‘We can’t do that!’

‘Of course we can,’ he assured her mildly.

May shook her head dazedly. ‘But—but—we’ve ordered our food, and—and everything!’ Even now she could see the waiter heading towards their table with their first course.

David shrugged. ‘So we’ll unorder it. The last thing I want, May,’ he continued firmly as she would have protested again, ‘is for you to feel under some sort of strain. The idea of this evening was for us to have a sociable dinner together, to relax and get to know each other a little better. Something we obviously aren’t going to be able to do with Jude Marshall in the room.’ He put his napkin down on the table and stood up to talk quietly to the waiter, the latter looking completely nonplussed as he returned to the kitchen still carrying the plates of food. ‘I’ll be back in two minutes,’ David promised before striding over to the maître d’.

May watched him dazedly, hardly able to believe that David was willing to go to another restaurant just because he sensed how uncomfortable she was now that she knew Jude Marshall was dining here, too.

But as she saw Jude enter the dining-room at that moment, the beautiful woman who moved so gracefully at his side, she knew that there was no way she could have remained here now even if David had wanted to do so.

The woman was tall and slender, her ebony dark hair cut stylishly short, the glowing beauty of her face dominated by luminous green eyes, her mouth a pouting invitation, the low-necked dress she wore revealing a creamy expanse of shoulders and breasts, her legs long and slender.

There was no doubting that, despite being in her forties, the woman was absolutely stunning, and as she and Jude walked to their table every pair of eyes in the room followed their progress.

Except May’s.

After that first glance she had got hastily to her feet, not waiting for David to return but rushing quickly from the room, not stopping until she reached the relative sanctuary of the foyer, her breath coming in short gasps, her pulse racing so fast she could feel the blood pulsing through her veins.

What on earth was she doing here?

‘Coward!’ Jude murmured huskily.

May’s shoulders had stiffened as she forked fresh hay into the lambing pens, so he knew she was aware of his presence behind her, but she made no effort to turn and answer his accusation.

Because accusation it most certainly was.

Jude hadn’t been able to believe it when, having seen April seated opposite him at the dining table the previous evening, he had turned to glance around the restaurant in search of May and her own dining companion.

Only to find that she hadn’t been there!

His mouth tightened. ‘May, I said—’

‘I heard what you said.’ She turned sharply to face him, her features set in cool challenge as she looked at him questioningly.

He raised mocking dark brows. ‘Well?’

‘Well what?’ she returned scathingly.

‘Don’t let’s start that again!’ He gave a disgusted shake of his head. ‘Why did you leave the hotel so suddenly yesterday evening?’

‘Did I?’ she returned dismissively, obviously completely ignoring his frustration with the way she answered his questions with one of her own. Deliberately so? Probably, he acknowledged heavily.

Jude scowled. ‘You know damn well you did.’

‘We left the restaurant, Jude,’ she corrected dryly. ‘That doesn’t mean we left the hotel,’ she added pointedly.

Jude’s scowl deepened as he easily understood her implication, his narrowed gaze searching on her almost defiant expression. If May were to be believed, then instead of eating she and David Melton had gone upstairs together to one of the hotel bedrooms…

‘Besides,’ she continued hardly, ‘I’m surprised you even noticed our departure considering the identity of your own dining companion.’ The last was added scornfully.

It wasn’t easy, but Jude forced visions of May in David Melton’s arms from his mind—for the present! He would get back to that subject in a moment.

His smile was mocking now. ‘Ah, you recognised her,’ he murmured with satisfaction.

May gave a derisive laugh. ‘Along with everyone else in the room! But then, how could anyone not recognise the beautiful actress, April Robine?’

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