Dear Reader,

We’re constantly striving to bring you the best romance fiction by the most exciting authors…and in Harlequin Romance® we’re especially keen to feature fresh, sparkling, warmly emotional novels. Modern love stories to suit your every mood: poignant, deeply moving stories; lively, upbeat romances with sparks flying; or sophisticated, edgy novels with an international flavor.

All our authors are special, and we hope you continue to enjoy each month’s new selection of Harlequin Romance books. This month we’re delighted to feature a novel with extra fizz! New Australian author sparkles with a fresh, vivid and lively writing style, and The Wedding Wish simply effervesces with vibrant, witty, lovable characters such as Holly and Jake—but also their friends Beth, Ben and Lydia. It’s fresh, flirty and feel-good!

We hope you enjoy this book by Ally Blake—and look out for future sparkling stories in Harlequin Romance. If you’d like to share your thoughts and comments with us, do please write to:

The Harlequin Romance® Editors

Harlequin Mills & Boon Ltd.

Eton House

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or e-mail: www.Tango@hmb.co.uk

Happy reading!

The Editors

Ally Blake worked in retail, danced on television and acted in friends’ short films until the writing bug could no longer be ignored. And as her mother had read romance novels ever since Ally was a baby, the aspiration to write Harlequin novels had been almost bred into her. Ally married her gorgeous husband, Mark, in Las Vegas (no Elvis in sight, thank you very much) and they live in beautiful Melbourne, Australia. Her husband cooks, he cleans and he’s the love of her life. How’s that for a hero?

This is Ally Blake’s first book!

The Wedding Wish
Ally Blake

www.millsandboon.co.uk

This book is dedicated to my angel, Mark, who looked after me, brought me M&M’s and made me feel as if I had it in me all the time.

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

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER ONE

‘I’M GETTING married,’ Holly announced as she slammed her briefcase on the desk in her office at Cloud Nine Event Management, fifteen minutes later than her usual start time.

‘You’re doing what?’ Beth’s voice rang metallic and loud from Holly’s speakerphone.

Holly sat down, crossed her legs, noticed a run in her stockings, and her mood went from bad to worse. She grabbed a new pair of stockings from the neat pile stocked in her bottom desk drawer, before moving into her private bathroom to change from frayed to fresh. She had to raise her voice for it to reach the speakerphone, but in her current temper that was not a problem.

‘I said I’m getting married.’

‘But I can’t remember you dating any man more than once in the last six months, much less becoming familiar enough to want to marry one of them.’

Holly’s assistant Lydia chose that moment to enter the office. She stopped in her tracks, the coffee she carried all but sloshing over the sides, and stared at the speakerphone as though it had produced an offensive noise. Holly came back into the room, new stockings in place, and waved a ‘hurry up’ hand at Lydia who placed the cup down without spilling a drop.

With no apology, Lydia joined the private conversation. ‘Did I hear you guys right? In the time it took for me to make Holly a cuppa, she’s hooked herself a fiancé? That’s saying something for instant coffee.’

‘Is that you, Lydia?’ Beth asked.

Lydia leaned towards the speakerphone, articulating her words as though speaking to someone hard of hearing. ‘How are you, Beth? When is the baby due?’

‘I’m fantastic. Baby Jeffries should be here in a month or so—’

‘Ah, guys,’ Holly interrupted, ‘major life decision being made here.’

Lydia mimed buttoning her lips shut tight.

‘Sorry, sweetie,’ Beth said. ‘Blame Lydia. You know if anyone asks about the bubby, I gush. Do go on.’

‘Thank you.’ Holly took a deep breath and launched into her story. ‘This morning, as I walked the last block along Lonsdale Street, this…man all but barrelled me over. Everything I was carrying went flying. My briefcase ended up in the gutter, pens rolled down the road and all my precious papers scattered across the footpath. And as I was on my hands and knees crawling around collecting my materials he had the nerve to tell me to watch where I was going.’

‘Was he cute?’ was Lydia’s instant response.

Not cute, Holly remembered. She pictured early morning sunlight glinting off light flecks in hazel eyes. Tired dark smudges underneath those eyes. Sympathy she had felt at his exhausted expression. His scowl as he had realised she had dropped everything she was carrying. The same scowl that had extinguished her sympathy. The rich, deep voice with a hint of a foreign accent as he had said his piece. No, cute was not the word.

‘Tall,’ Holly eventually established, ‘dark mussed hair. Matching dimples. Smelled nice. But that’s irrelevant.’

‘Irrelevant?’ Beth said. ‘He sounds perfect.’

‘I reckon,’ Lydia agreed.

‘Just when you stop looking where you are going, he finds you. It’s kismet.’

Holly rolled her eyes, picturing Beth reaching for one of her New Age books to justify the incident.

‘He did not find me, Beth, he berated and bruised me. See.’ Holly pointed out a light scrape on her knee to Lydia, who pouted in appreciation.

‘And this is the guy you’re going to marry?’ Lydia asked.

‘No! You’ve both missed the point.’

‘Which is?’

‘The point is, the whole horrible episode brought about an epiphany. My social life consists exclusively of attending parties we coordinate. But instead of meeting men, I meet male party personalities. They mislead me with an attractive, charming, confident disguise but there is never anything more going on behind the eye-catching masks they wear. The gentleman this morning was very attractive, uncompromising, and uncaring and was therefore the embodiment of all that is wrong with the men I meet. It’s a foolproof theory.’

‘I’m confused,’ Lydia said. ‘If not this guy, who on earth are you marrying?’

‘That’s the thing—I’ve decided Ben is going to find him for me.’

‘My Ben?’ Beth asked after a couple of seconds of bewildered silence.

‘Of course. Can’t you see it’s the only way? Ben works in a big company, he’s got plenty of staff under him, mostly young men he has hand-picked, and he knows me better than anyone apart from you guys. He’s the perfect objective observer and if he can find me someone he likes then we can all be friends for ever. You know, live next door to one another, have neighbourhood BBQs, go on camping trips…’

‘You hate camping—’

‘I’m not joking, Beth. Come on, you have to see how flawless a plan it is.’

‘And all of this came from banging into some very attractive, dimpled, nice smelling guy on the street?’ Beth asked.

‘It was like when we collided he smacked some sense into me.’

‘Gave you concussion, more like it,’ Lydia muttered.

Holly shot Lydia an unimpressed look.

‘This guy must have been something to get you of all people talking marriage,’ Beth said.

‘Why me of all people?’

‘Come on, Holly. You are the most controlled, independent woman I know. You keep a colour range of spare pairs of stockings in your office drawer, for goodness’ sake.’

Catching sight of those very packets, Holly casually closed the drawer shut with her foot.

‘And here you are,’ Beth continued, ‘wanting to put your future happiness in someone else’s hands.’

‘Ben is not just someone else and you know that. I trust him to make a good choice.’

‘I can’t believe you are making some sort of sense,’ Beth admitted. ‘All right, come over for dinner tonight so that we can ambush my poor, unknowing husband.’

‘Thanks, Beth. You are the best friend in the whole wide world.’

‘And don’t you forget it.’

After Beth rang off Lydia peeled her lanky form from the chair and loped to Holly’s office door where she turned back to ask, ‘Did he help pick the stuff up?’

Holly dragged her attention away from the beckoning projects on her desk. ‘Mmm, he dropped his bags and bent down to help almost instantly. But he was telling me off at the time so that’s irrelevant too.’

‘And you were walking with your head down, immersed in thoughts of what you had to do today, not looking where you were going, weren’t you?’

‘Sure…’

‘But that’s irrelevant, right?’

Holly narrowed her eyes, willing Lydia not to continue, but her mocking look was to no avail.

‘A tall, dark, handsome stranger bowls you over and then gets down on his hands and knees to help. And you have decided this is a bad thing. I, on the other hand, would spend the rest of the day looking dreamily out the window if that happened to me. But no such luck. My morning consisted of being rubbed up against by a schoolboy on the train.’

Lydia sighed spectacularly and Holly could not help but grin at her amateur dramatics. ‘You do realise that since I am your boss your job is to ooh and aah and say, “poor Holly”, don’t you?’

‘I thought my job was to get you coffee and stand on chairs so that you can drape fabrics over me and hold all incoming calls from any men you may have had uninspiring dates with the night before.’

‘Sure,’ Holly agreed after a moment’s thought, ‘that too.’

Lydia left the room and headed back to her desk to prepare herself for a day of imagining walking up Lonsdale Street and banging into tall, dark, handsome strangers.

Jacob helped the driver haul the last of his luggage into the waiting taxi. As the car pulled away he ran a hand through his mussed hair, leant back onto the headrest, and was surprised to catch such a world-weary reflection peering back at him from the window.

Jacob’s focus shifted and he watched the familiar home-town buildings flick past. He was not yet sure how he felt about being home. So far, so good. And a hot shower and a sleep in his own bed would only make it better. But how long would it be this time before he yearned to move on?

Either way Jacob knew Melbourne was a magnificent city. Take that enchanting woman he had just had an exchange with on the street. Now there was a real Melbourne woman. Pale smooth skin suited to the temperate clime, stylish to a fault, a compelling face, and subtle, easy confidence. You didn’t find women quite like that anywhere else in the world. In any case he hadn’t yet. During the drive home, his thoughts kept coming back to the brunette with the fiery blue eyes who had somehow roused his ordinarily controlled temper.

Jet lag. It had to have been jet lag.

‘Babe?’ Ben’s voice called out from the front hallway.

Holly’s hand leapt to her throat. She had not even heard the front door.

‘In here, darling,’ Beth called, sitting on an armchair they’d dragged into the kitchen to ease her aching back.

Holly understood Beth’s raised eyebrows and tight mouth. This is your last chance to change your mind, her expression said. But Holly was not to be deterred. ‘Just follow the delicious aroma of grilled chicken à la Holly wafting from the kitchen.’

Ben popped his head around the door. He leaned down and kissed his wife, not even asking why their lounge chair was in the kitchen. Holly offered her cheek for a kiss, which she duly received.

‘To what do we owe the pleasure of your company, gorgeous?’ Ben leant over Holly to have a good look at dinner. She slapped his hand as he tried to grab a piece of potato.

Holly glanced once more at Beth, who gave her a discreet thumbs up. ‘I want you to set me up with someone from your work.’

Holly clenched her face waiting for the inevitable ‘no’.

‘Sure,’ Ben answered.

Holly was too stunned to stop him spooning a baby potato into his mouth. ‘Really?’

‘Of course. It’s Derek from Payroll, isn’t it? He’s always had a thing for you, you know.’

‘For starters it’s not Derek. I mean, yuck.’

‘Come on, Ben,’ Beth said in support, ‘you know she likes tall, dark and handsome. Derek’s a weed.’

‘Then who?’

Holly proceeded to explain her inspired theory and the mechanics of her plan with endlessly increasing enthusiasm until Ben could have no doubt of her sincerity.

‘You two are serious, aren’t you?’

‘Deadly serious,’ Beth agreed. ‘I have mapped out her stars, and Holly is primed.’

Ben did a Groucho Marx with his eyebrows. Beth slapped his thigh playfully. ‘Primed for a big change, you idiot. This is serious, Ben. She is getting on in years.’

‘She’s twenty-seven.’

‘And I want to be her matron of honour while I’m still young enough and pretty enough to at least have a shot at outshining the bride.’

‘You’re nuts, the both of you. I shouldn’t let the two of you alone in a room together. It bodes badly for the future of mankind.’

‘But you will do it, won’t you, darling?’

Faced with their excited united front, there was nothing Ben could do but agree.

CHAPTER TWO

SO, THE next night Holly meandered through the outer bar of the Fun and Games sports nightclub on the arm of her best friend’s husband. She was dressed to kill in a black silk dress: fitted, strapless and split to the thigh.

‘Do you have anyone in particular lined up for me tonight?’ Holly shouted in Ben’s ear to be heard over the loud, pumping music.

‘Actually, I stuck your photo on the wall in the men’s washroom at work along with a note saying you would be here tonight. That way they can just come to you.’

‘Not funny.’ Holly punched Ben inelegantly in the arm. ‘Why is the function here?’

‘It’s one of ours. It’s Link’s idea. We hold all of our functions in various clubs we own so we are constantly reinvesting in ourselves.’

Holly nodded, impressed. ‘Ingenious. Pity all Lincoln Holdings events are managed internally. I could have a lot of fun with the budget you guys must have.’ She huddled closer. ‘Will the boss be here tonight?’

‘Link? Sorry, Holly, you can cross him off your list. He’s been running the international operations from New Orleans for the last few years.’

‘I bet he’s tall, dark, and handsome to boot.’ Holly pouted, bringing a smile to Ben’s face. The smile probably meant his boss was a married workaholic with three whining kids, a pot-belly and high blood pressure.

He took her hand and led her single file through the swelling crowd, into the private function room hidden at the rear of the club. The room had been converted into a sort of theatre in the round. The high ceiling housed an elaborate lighting rig so bright it was almost blinding.

A cheerful murmur of voices and clinking drinking glasses echoing in the lofty space had replaced the raucous club music, soundproof walls thankfully shutting out the thumping beat from the previous room.

Holly excused herself several times as they edged past people sitting in their row. The numerous men in dinner suits sent a thrill of excitement running up and down her spine. She sat and turned to Ben, ready to ask what was behind the velvet floor-to-ceiling drapes in the centre of the room but her query froze on her lips. The curtains slowly rose into the rafters to reveal—A boxing ring!

Ben chatted to a couple of male colleagues in the row in front. Their eyes all gleamed like little boys in a pet store as they launched into a detailed discussion of the two men who were about to belt it out before them.

Holly tugged on Ben’s sleeve. ‘There’s a boxing ring.’

He smiled. ‘That’s so that the boxers keep to themselves and don’t spill out into the crowd.’

‘But, I thought…I thought this was a business function. I thought we’d be sitting down, having dinner, and there would be refined and elegant men for you to introduce to me.’

‘We’re sitting. We’re eating,’ Ben said with a mouthful of mixed nuts he had picked up from a nattily dressed wandering waiter. ‘And this is Mark and Jeremy.’

The mundane middle-aged guys from the row in front smiled politely.

Ben’s twinkling eyes fast lost their twinkle when Holly grabbed him gracelessly by the lapels of his tuxedo jacket and through clenched teeth said, ‘But this was not what I had in mind.’

‘Just relax. You’ll enjoy it.’

Holly raised her eyebrows, pursed her lips and crossed her arms, demonstrating exactly how much she was enjoying the night so far. ‘I am surprised that Lincoln Holdings would associate itself with such a primitive and politically incorrect enterprise.’

‘All of Lincoln Holdings’ staff from the managing directors to the custodial staff come together for these nights. It makes inter-office difficulties seem so small and petty when compared with what these guys go through to earn a living. You should know more than anyone that if a gimmick works, stick with it.’

‘It’s not just a gimmick, Ben, it’s encouraging people to use their fists to sort out their differences. Whose idea was this in the first place?’

‘Link’s, of course,’ Ben said, grinning. ‘Forever inspirational.’

‘Sounds like a thug to me,’ Holly muttered.

‘You thought he was ingenious ten minutes ago.’

‘Ten minutes ago I was mistaken.’

Holly was suddenly glad that Ben’s boss would not be at the function. If he were, she would have no problems letting him know what she thought of his little soirée, high blood pressure or no high blood pressure.

And she just knew that sitting quietly at home in her ‘magic’ briefcase—as Lydia called it—she would have a dozen more appropriate and inspirational function ideas and it frustrated her to distraction.

The white noise of the murmuring crowd rose to a crescendo when an announcer in black tie bounded into the ring and a microphone descended from the rafters. The crowd rose to its collective feet and Holly rose with it, shuffling her way back out of their row in search of a refuge.

Once inside the ladies’ room, she slumped down on a very large round pink velvet ottoman, which sat alone in the middle of the vast space.

Her eyes were closed and she was plotting ways she could take revenge on Ben when the doors swung open. She opened her eyes, hoping to find solace with another woman in the same predicament as herself, but instead locked eyes with the least feminine person she had ever seen.

In walked a man well over six feet tall, his tuxedo precisely tailored to fit his athletic frame. He was so stunning it took her breath away. Maybe this night would not be a complete waste after all.

And then something about the furrowed brow and deep hazel eyes clicked in her memory. His neat, freshly cut hair framing his handsome, relaxed face had momentarily blinded her to the fact that she knew him.

He was the same brute who had knocked her down in the street the day before!

Her senses surged to full alert. He radiated charisma, confidence and composure. Any other girl would find it near impossible to stand firm against that killer combination of attributes.

But Holly was not just any other girl. Holly had protection. Holly had a foolproof theory and Holly had Ben to keep just this sort of guy beneath her radar.

So where was Ben now she really needed him? Hmm. No Ben. She and her theory would have to fend for themselves. And her foremost plan was to make the brute leave the room before he recognised her.

She shot to her feet, holding her clutch purse in front of her chest as a shield and said, ‘Excuse me, this is the ladies’ room.’

The man stopped short at her words.

‘Actually it’s not,’ he said, the hint of an accent evident once more in his deep, rich voice. He pointed to doors on the other side of the room that Holly had not even noticed. ‘That’s the way to the bathrooms. This is a communal lounge.’

‘Oh.’ She sat back down.

All is fine. He will continue through to the men’s room. Then I can make a run for it.

But he did not leave.

After several uncomfortable moments, she glanced up to find him leaning casually against the far wall, blocking the way to the outer door, watching her.

His amused gaze scanned her dark hair piled high in a mass of controlled curls, past her face, which burned under his intent look, down her exposed neck and shoulders, making her wish she had a wrap to cover them.

As his regard skimmed lower she followed its direction and noticed that the length of her crossed legs was fully exposed through the split in her skirt. Sheathed in shimmering stockings, they glittered from toe to thigh, and the light scrape she had received from their scuffle on the footpath showed red through the filmy fabric. She uncrossed her legs, quickly swishing the soft cloth over them, hiding the wound.

The gesture was not lost on him and a fleeting, and utterly knee-melting, smile washed across his mouth, for a brief moment revealing overlapping front teeth and those unforgettable dimples.

Strength, Holly. Strength.

Her only glimmer of hope was that there had not been one hint of recognition in those laughing hazel eyes.

It was her. It had to be. She was the woman with the briefcase and the temper.

She was dressed so differently and not yelling at him—Jacob ought not to have recognised her. But her gleaming dark hair, compelling blue eyes and natural elegance had meandered unbidden in and out of his mind so many times over the last day he had begun to think she had been no more than a jet-lag-induced delusion.

But she was real. And what a kick to walk through the door in search of a moment’s peace and quiet only to find her, arranged before him like a delectable gift in such dazzling wrapping.

Jacob went to introduce himself. After all, they had met. Somewhat. And more to the point she could very well prove to be a delightful diversion during his hiatus here. Then he stopped himself.

She had recognised him too; it was splashed across her face, but she did not seem at all happy about it.

Sure, they had clashed rather than met, but that just made her all the more memorable. Yet instead of laughing it off or accusing him anew, she fussed and fidgeted and endeavoured to fade into the furniture. And despite her best efforts, that very bashfulness made her stand out like a luminous gem on her velvet cushion.

So maybe now was not the time to introduce himself. Maybe now was the time to enjoy watching her fuss and fidget some more.

‘I know your face, but I can’t seem to place you,’ he said, staring at her as though sifting through his memory.

Help!

‘Do you work for the company?’ he asked.

Phew.

‘No, thank heavens,’ she said.

‘You have something against Lincoln Holdings?’

She shrugged. ‘I’m not a big fan of beer and boxing. So I guess that makes me not a big fan of Lincoln Holdings.’

He made no response, and seemed perfectly content in the long silence. On the contrary, Holly’s right leg jiggled and her ears buzzed with every beat of her thudding heart.

‘Are you planning on staying in here all night?’ he finally asked.

‘I hadn’t really thought that far. I came with someone so I need the lift home.’ She kept her eyes averted and her face turned as far away as was polite.

‘I could organise a cab for you, if you wish.’

‘No, thanks.’ Now off you go.

‘The least I can do is tell your companion you are in here,’ the man said. ‘I’m sure he would not want you out of his sight for too long.’ And then he smiled again.

Holly felt like a whole family of butterflies had taken up residence in her stomach. It was unfair to have a debilitating smile like that in your arsenal. If he smiled at her like that one more time she would be reduced to a pile of quivering mush upon the fuzzy pink ottoman. It was maddening but she was drawn to him despite herself. So if he wasn’t going to leave then she would have to.

‘Maybe I should take a cab. Make Ben worry. He deserves it.’

‘Ben?’

‘I’m here with Ben Jeffries. One of the VPs.’

The man’s attitude cooled so suddenly, it surprised Holly, then she remembered why she had embarked on her husband hunt in the first place. Her theory about the men she attracted. At parties.

He was no enigma, standing there seeming so cool and elegant. He had been wearing his party personality, he had been acting the part, just as they all did. He was good-looking enough to send a girl’s stomach into a whole series of flips with one brief smile, and she had almost fallen for it.

The clang of a bell sounded from the other side of the door, followed by a loud cheer. Holly winced as she imagined the fighters coming together in a violent clash.

Her companion’s attention focussed on her for one fleeting, intense moment, before he nodded, then headed back out into the throng.

The muffled sounds of the enthusiastic crowd outside infiltrated her conflicting thoughts. As she settled herself in for the duration it occurred to her that if it were not for that man’s unpleasant behaviour at their first meeting, she would not have been sitting in a bathroom, dressed up, hungry and alone.

Smiling to herself, she felt much more comfortable thinking nothing but ill of him once more.

CHAPTER THREE

JACOB LINCOLN walked into his second-in-charge’s office first thing Monday morning. He had been able to catch up for a brief hello and welcome home Saturday night but one subject had been bothering him since.

Without hesitation, Ben rounded his desk and hugged his old friend. He patted him on the back once more, as though making sure he was really there.

‘I still can’t believe you’re back. And what an entrance. You sashayed into the match the other night, calm as you please, as if you’d never been away. Over the jet lag yet?’

‘Pretty much. I had forgotten how cold and dry the air is in Melbourne. It hits you as soon as you get off the plane. I don’t mind, though—I never could get used to the humidity in New Orleans.’

‘Good. It means you’re a Melbournian at heart.’

Jacob shrugged. ‘Or maybe it means I should try San Francisco next.’ Jacob sat down on the leather lounge chair on the near side of Ben’s desk. His fingers unconsciously played with his bottom lip as he broached the subject that had been worrying him.

‘At the fight, I met your date.’

Ben grinned broadly. ‘So, you met the other woman in my life.’

Jacob’s eyes narrowed at Ben’s obvious affection towards a woman other than his pregnant wife. But Ben just burst out laughing.

‘Don’t look at me like that, Link. She’s Beth’s best friend. My poor wife can hardly walk up stairs any more, much less handle a nightclub function, so she asked me to take Holly. They’ve known each other for ever so when I fell madly in love with my wife, Holly came with the deal.’

Feeling undeniably better, Jacob leant back in the chair. ‘What’s she like?’

‘You’ve met her. Short, blonde, heavily pregnant.’ Ben reached for his wallet. ‘I can show you a photo.’

‘I meant Holly, and you know it.’

‘Ah, Holly.’ Ben put his wallet away.

‘You get on well?’ Jacob asked.

‘You bet. So well, in fact, she has roped me into finding a man for her.’

‘Really?’ Surprising. She hardly seemed the type to need a blind date. But while he was in town…

‘Not only a man,’ Ben continued, shaking his head and smiling indulgently, ‘but a husband at that.’

Whoa. A blind date was one thing…

He had been back in the country for just a few days and twice he had run into the same woman, and both times he had allowed her to get under his skin. He should have known better. So he swiftly latched onto the perfect balm for just that kind of irritant; she was on a husband hunt.

Suddenly San Francisco was looking better and better.

‘She’s cute, don’t you think?’ Ben asked with a glimmer in his eye.

‘Sure.’ If you called women with stormy blue eyes and legs that went on forever ‘cute’.

‘Did she happen to mention how she enjoyed the fight?’

‘We met just before it began actually. But that didn’t stop her pitching varied unflattering opinions about the match and my company in general.’

‘That sounds like Holly. Did you…introduce yourself?’ Ben asked, seeming to choose his words carefully. ‘Did she know who you were?’

‘She must have.’ Jacob pictured her open book face and the recognition evident in every blink. ‘What does that matter?’

‘I guess it doesn’t.’

Jacob stood and Ben walked him to the door.

‘What are you doing for dinner tonight?’ Ben asked. ‘How does roast lamb grab you? Beth hasn’t seen you for years and she would love to catch up before the baby’s due.’

Though he had masses of work to do, the thought of such contented, uncomplicated company was too tempting to refuse.

‘What time?’

‘About seven?’

As Jacob left Ben’s office he popped his head back in the door to say, ‘By the way, I have never sashayed in my life.’

‘It was horrible.’ Holly was bent double with her bottom in the air and head pushed between her legs.

‘Ben had a ball.’ Beth did a far more gentle stretch with their yoga instructor watching her carefully.

‘Of course he did. He’s a man. And a Neanderthal at that, as I have only just discovered.’

‘I promise if he’d told me beforehand it was that sort of function, I never would have suggested he take you. I’d told him a little about your dad, but not enough as it turned out.’

Beth laid a hand on Holly’s arm. Holly shook it off, then instantly regretted the prickly move. She had long since let those memories lie and knew she was being overly sensitive.

‘He thinks that Lincoln guy is “inspired”,’ Holly continued, her voice light. ‘He has his head screwed on wrong. If he really wanted his employees to bond in one of his establishments, why not buy a health resort and send them there? I could do a better job planning their parties half asleep and with one hand tied behind my back!’

‘Or with your head between your knees, evidently.’ Holly flicked her friend a smile from between said knees.

‘So, did you meet any honeys?’ Beth asked.

‘Nah,’ Holly said, steadfastly failing to acknowledge the picture of sparkling hazel eyes that had fast formed in her mind. Besides, he was no honey. He was the enemy.

‘I’m not surprised. May I ask how you hoped to find a husband in the “communal lounge”?’

‘By that stage all I hoped to find was sanctuary from the rabble outside.’

‘You would hardly want that to be the story you tell your grandkids. “We met on the way to the toilet…”’

‘What’s the point?’ Holly sighed as she slowly stretched her arms to touch her toes. ‘I will find no husband. I will have no grandkids to tell stories to.’

‘Well, if that’s your attitude I had better cancel your dinner date for tonight, then.’

‘Dinner?’ Holly stood up so fast she had to steady herself so as not to black out.

Beth stood more slowly and waddled over to their bags. Holly followed at a trot.

‘To make up for his dismal effort the other night Ben has organised for one of his work colleagues to come to dinner tonight. He had hoped the two of you could meet, fall madly in love and marry. But if you’re not interested—’

‘Of course, I’m interested. Do you know him? Is he nice? Intelligent? What does he do? No, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know. Is he cute?’

‘Just be at our place by six-thirty, and all will be revealed.’

‘Yeah, yeah, yeah. Okay.’ She gave Beth a big hug. ‘You guys are so good to me.’

‘Even Ben? A minute ago he was a Neanderthal.’

‘Ben a Neanderthal? Never. He’s the most wonderful man in the history of the world.’

Beth nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly.

As the clock neared seven Beth screamed at Ben to take Holly into the front room and keep her there. ‘If she asks me what he’s like one more time, the pair of you will be sucking gravy from your shirts.’

Holly took a seat in the front room. She crossed and uncrossed her legs several times before settling on right over left. She nibbled at her manicured fingernails and her right leg jiggled up and down.

A sudden downpour made a soft, rhythmic drumming sound on the flat roof. Holly watched as rain created hypnotic rivulets down the window-panes. Each car driving past was heralded by a soft swoosh of tyres on the wet road surface. Headlights lit up raindrops on the glass to a blinding brilliance, before fading as fast as they had arrived. But none heralded her blind date.

‘Ben?’

‘Yes, Holly.’

She knew that tone. Ben had already begun rubbing stiff fingers over the back of his neck.

‘What does he know about me?’

‘Are you sure you want to know? Are you sure you’re not going to stop me as soon as I begin telling you?’

‘I’m sure. Tell me. I can’t stand it. I need to know something.’ Holly’s leg jiggled ever more violently.

‘Okay,’ he said. ‘I told him that you were cute.’

‘You said I’m cute?’ Her leg jiggle slowed. ‘You’re so sweet.’

Ben mirrored her more relaxed behaviour. ‘I told him that you and Beth had been friends for years—’

‘He knows Beth well enough for you to mention I was friends with her?’ she shrieked, and watched as a small muscle twitched in Ben’s cheek. There was no stopping her. She was out of control.

‘Maybe I should know who it is. No. I can’t. Does Beth like him? What else did you tell him?’

Headlights flashed brightly through the window, though this time they shone directly through the lace curtains, and then switched off. Holly gulped as the engine sound stopped. He had arrived.

‘I can’t do this,’ she whispered. ‘Help.’

Ben stood and walked over to her, his jaw set. He grabbed her by the hand and pulled her to her feet. ‘You want to know what else I told him about you?’

Ben propelled her to the front door. Holly knew that she had pushed him too far. She smiled in apology. ‘I don’t think I do.’

But it was too late. As the bell rang and just before Ben whipped open the front door he whispered in her ear.

‘I told him you were on the prowl for a husband and he was candidate number one.’

CHAPTER FOUR

THE door swung open and Jacob found Holly frozen to the spot, her eyes wide and her mouth unnaturally ajar.

In that first moment, a broad smile swept across his face. He felt that same odd rush of warmth deep in the pit of his stomach that he felt each time he saw her.

Then he remembered Ben’s revelation. The flowers he had brought for Beth drooped to his side. He glanced from Holly’s curiously blanched face to Ben’s apologetic one and he knew.

He had just turned up to a blind date with a husband hunter.

‘Look, Holly. Flowers.’ Ben grabbed the posy out of Jacob’s hand and put them in Holly’s, clasping her limp fist around the stems. ‘Now, go put them in water.’

Ben spun her on the spot and gave her a little shove in the direction of the kitchen.

Jacob shrugged off his coat and shook his head to rid himself of a spray of raindrops that caught him on the way to the door, and then laid a friendly but controlling arm around his friend’s shoulder. ‘Is this what I think it is?’

‘Mate, I’m sorry. I had a feeling neither of you would agree to come to dinner if I let on the other would be here.’

‘You got that right.’

‘If you are staying in town for any length of time you will be bound to run in the same circles so you may as well get to know each other.’

‘Fair enough. But if that’s all that this is, why is she acting like a living mummy?’

Ben flicked furtive glances towards the closed kitchen door. ‘At times Holly can drive me around the bend, tonight being a prime example. And just before I opened the door I snapped and told her that—’

Ben stopped talking and swallowed. Jacob squeezed his friend’s shoulder to hurry him up.

‘I pretty much told her you knew she was “husband hunting” and that’s why you were here.’

‘You what?’ Jacob dropped his arm from his friend’s shoulder and took a step back, physically distancing himself from the shock.

‘Look, Beth will be out any second, and she doesn’t need too much excitement right now; so any shouting, and hitting, and telling Beth what I’ve done would create excitement. Please stay, eat a nice dinner. It’ll all be over in a couple of hours.’

‘I’ll stay,’ Jacob said through clenched teeth. ‘For Beth.’

‘Of course. And the shouting and hitting?’

‘We’ll save that for a rainy day.’ Jacob grinned but it was all bared teeth and no pleasantry.

‘And there’s one more thing,’ Ben said.

‘What more could there possibly be?’

‘It turns out Holly doesn’t know you’re Jacob Lincoln of Lincoln Holdings, which is a good thing as she really hated the whole boxing match and thus doesn’t think much of him. You.’

Jacob blinked slowly. His mind was turning devilishly. Never one to shy away from a challenge—

‘So, your Holly doesn’t think much of me. Yet she thinks I have delivered myself here on a platter.’

‘Yes. And?’

Jacob knew he had Ben worried. Good. ‘Oh, I don’t think you have the right to question me right now, my friend. No shouting, no hitting, now and for ever, as long as tonight you go along with whatever I throw at you. Deal?’

Ben looked over to the closed kitchen door. The water turned off and the kitchen door bumped as it started to open.

‘Okay, deal,’ Ben said.

Jacob slapped Ben on the back and grinned at his friend. But this time his smile was radiant with good humour.

Holly took her time fetching the food, and so gladly missed several minutes of chit-chat. That meant they were several minutes closer to the end of the night. Beth had just finished telling about the guitar lessons she was taking so she could play for her baby when Jacob informed the table at large that his younger sister was engaged.

‘So that’s why you’re here,’ Beth said. ‘I knew it had to be more than just the temptation of my roast lamb. Have you met her fiancé?’

‘I have. On Sunday. Nice guy,’ Jacob said. ‘This will be his second time around.’

‘Divorced?’ Beth asked.

‘A widower.’

‘Oh. Poor man. So he’s older than Ana?’

‘A good bit.’

‘Doesn’t surprise me, really, considering.’ Beth brought her fingers to her temples and started to rub. ‘Now, let me guess, knowing Ana, I bet he is in a caring profession. He’s a…vet?’

‘A triage nurse.’

Beth grinned. ‘Oh, how perfect.’

‘It would take someone with that sort of temperament to look after our Ana. She’s quite a handful.’

‘You would know.’

‘No comment.’

Holly could tell there was some serious subtext to Beth’s comments. She was intrigued despite herself, but her desire to stay invisible outweighed her curiosity so she let the conversation continue over her head.

‘Anyway, good on him for taking her on,’ Jacob said. ‘I guess some people just like to be married.’

Holly stopped chewing and her cutlery stilled in her hand. Did he seriously just say what I think he said?

Ben coughed and she hoped he was choking on his potato. Beth’s face, on the other hand, was all innocence. Perhaps Holly had misread the matter and Jacob was really talking about his sister, and not about her.

‘Holly, could you please pass the broccoli?’ Jacob asked.

Holly jumped in her seat at the call of her name. Her frazzled nerves were drawn as tight as Beth’s new guitar strings. As she passed the bowl she locked eyes with the man across the table. He smiled bringing out his oh, so charming dimples.

He’s the anti-husband, she reminded herself, distant and indifferent. And his admittedly appealing dimples are, well, irrelevant.

‘Holly did the vegetables tonight, Jacob,’ Beth said. ‘She’s a whiz with a steamer.’

Holly happily let go of the eye contact as she let go of the plate, and then shot Beth a quick yet entirely humourless smile.

‘Anyway,’ Jacob began again, ‘Ana and Michael have known each other six months, been engaged for a week and are already talking kids.’

‘Oh, that’s wonderful,’ Beth said.

‘I’m all for short engagements,’ Jacob said. ‘She found someone like-minded, at the same point in his life, with the same goals and desires, and snapped him up. It was the smart thing to do.’

Was he serious? Holly had her reasons for embarking on her husband hunt, but what would Mr Standoffish be doing on a blind date with a woman he knew was after marriage? It made no sense. And, worse, it laughed in the face of her theory.

And who on earth was this guy? Ben had conveniently not let on what he did for the company. Maybe because Lincoln Holdings only kept him on in sympathy for some shocking flaw he hid under his cool good looks. Well, apart from the obvious personality defects Holly had already been subjected to.

To make matters worse, what if he eventually recognised her and let on that he was the guy on the street, the guy Beth knew had started her off on this crusade? If Beth knew, she would never let up about signs and primes and all sorts of gibberish. Holly was certain nothing bar that revelation could make this night more unbearable.

‘I want kids, you know,’ Jacob practically cooed. ‘At least eight. No, eleven—a whole soccer team. So I should probably get started as soon as possible.’

Holly barely contained her groan. She lay down her cutlery, unable to stomach another bite.

Beth gave a painfully obvious nod towards Holly before asking, ‘Do you have someone in mind to bear this football team for you?’

Holly glared ferociously at her friend, who refused to meet her eye.

‘Not as such,’ Jacob said, picking up a stem of broccoli on the end of his fork and twirling it before his eyes. ‘But she would have to be a good cook. Though I would hope that she did not enjoy her own cooking so much that she not be able to keep her figure after the kids are born.’

What? Was this guy for real?

Jacob had trouble keeping the smile from his voice. Ben had his head buried in his hands, Beth’s eyes were widening in shock with each absurd statement, and the lovely Holly was slumping lower and lower in her chair.

‘Ben and I talked about this today. Didn’t we, Ben?’ Jacob casually cracked a knuckle or two as if to say, Your choice: shouting and hitting or go with the flow. Ben smiled ruefully and nodded.

‘Constantly, mate. Hardly got any work done, we were so busy talking about kids.’

But Jacob wasn’t finished yet—

‘And I do like blondes. If I were to marry a brunette I would ask that she dye her hair. I mean, if she really cared for my feelings she would do that, wouldn’t you think?’

Jacob revelled in the stunned silence that met his latest words. Got ’em!

‘So, Holly, how about you?’

‘Excuse me?’ Holly squeaked.

‘How many kids do you want?’ Jacob asked.

Holly darted a hunted gaze to her friends but found no help from their corner. Ben was finding his cutlery very interesting whilst Beth still stared at Jacob, her eyes bright with astonishment.

‘Umm…kids?’ she said. ‘I haven’t really thought about it.’

‘No? I’m surprised at that.’

‘Surprised?’ Her voice was still an octave too high and barely above a whisper. She cleared her throat.

‘Don’t all women think of these things? How many and what you would name them all?’

‘I guess,’ Holly admitted whilst wishing she could dissolve into the floor.

‘And haven’t you had a distinct idea of the man you would one day marry?’

And then he smiled. From ear to ear. Adorably overlapping teeth, charming dimples and enough charisma to knock her socks off. If he had held up a big sign with an arrow pointing to himself it would not have been more obvious. He seemed so ripe he probably kept his grandmother’s ring in the top pocket of his jacket every day…just in case.

She swallowed hard. Her brow was furrowed so tight it was giving her a headache. She knew her terrible poker face would be showing all the signs of the strain she felt. She could feel hot red blotches forming on her neck and cheeks. But she had no idea how to extricate herself from this nightmare.

Then suddenly Jacob’s bright eyes narrowed, seemingly looking deeper and deeper into her own until she was sure she saw a softening. A melting. The impenetrable myriad hazel flecks in his gaze grew deep and kind and sad. For a flicker she sensed an apology, as real as if he had said it aloud.

And although she would have thought it impossible, it made her knees feel weaker than they had all night.

He had done enough. He had proven his point. After this performance, Ben and Beth would not dare to set him up on this kind of date again. And that was all he wanted from the night. So he changed tack.

‘How about you, Beth? Did you think you’d end up with someone soft and fuzzy like young Benny boy?’

As Beth proceeded to regale the group with tales of numerous dream boys from her teens Jacob watched as Holly slowly relaxed.

Her natural colour had returned and he noticed again what an attractive woman she was—and just his taste. Not too tall, graceful, curvaceous, vivacious. And he had been lying earlier to rile her. He had never been one of those men who preferred blondes. Her lustrous, thick dark hair beguiled him. He found himself wanting to release it from its confining pins and feel its lush abundance sliding through his fingers.

With her head cocked, listening to Beth’s funny stories, she surreptitiously picked up stray slivers of carrot and brought them to her mouth, daintily sucking them in with a swift sip. And each time she gave the tips of her fingers an unhurried lick, savouring the slight drops of honey. And Jacob was mesmerized. It was all he could do to stop himself from licking his own lips, she made it look so good.

‘Don’t you remember Gary Phelps, Holly?’ Beth asked, snapping Jacob back to the conversation at hand. Holly even managed a small laugh. It was a pretty sound. Light and unselfconscious.

‘He was so horrid, Beth.’ Holly grimaced, but her voice had returned to a more normal timbre.

‘He was not. He was lovely.’

‘He was five feet tall and never washed his hair. I never knew what you saw in him.’

‘Just because he wasn’t tall, dark and handsome like every boy you ever had a crush on didn’t mean he couldn’t be attractive to someone else. Namely me. And what a kisser.’

Holly flicked a sudden glance Jacob’s way. If he had blinked, he would have missed it, but he had caught its full measure. It was a look brimming with suppressed attraction. He should have jumped from his seat and run for his life. But he didn’t.

She had bruised his ego enough with her indifference towards his business practices. So he intended to soak up every bit of positive attention she was willing to send his way. Just to even the scales. That was all.

‘Hey,’ Ben called out, feigning a broken heart. ‘You do realise your husband and the father of your soon to be child is sitting here having to listen to these stories of young love which do not involve him.’

‘Yes, darling but you have to remember that, out of this long line of dreamboats, I chose you.’

‘Very true.’ Ben beamed lovingly at his wife.

Under the mask of laughing along with them, Jacob stole a cheerful glance over Holly, and he found her leaning her chin on her palm, watching Ben and Beth with a smile of pure joy splashed across her lovely face. Her expression was so tender it was luminous. And in that moment he thought he understood her. It did not seem so very strange to want what Ben and Beth had.

Jacob felt a sudden tightening in his chest. Not good. He needed time out. He pushed his chair back and stood up.

‘Excuse me, folks. I have to powder my nose.’

As soon as Jacob left Beth leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, ‘What on earth is with him tonight, Ben? All that talk of babies and blondes, that wasn’t like the Jacob Lincoln of old.’

‘Lincoln?’ Holly mimicked Beth’s strained whisper, as it was the only way she could stop herself from shouting. ‘He’s Jacob Lincoln? As in your boss, Link? As in Lincoln Holdings Lincoln?’

Ben flinched. ‘Ah, yes. He’s one and the same.’

‘What on earth is he doing here? You told me he lived in…New Orleans or some such place.’ And he was supposed to be balding, with a paunch and liver spots. Not…well, not so manifestly the opposite.

‘He did,’ Ben said. ‘Then without telling a soul he moved back to Melbourne a couple of days ago.’

That first morning, standing on the corner, armfuls of luggage, faint accent. Holly dropped her face into her palms.

‘That means I told him how little I thought of his boxing idea, not at the time realising that it was his idea, then accused him of going to the wrong bathroom, not at the time realising it was his bathroom. He’s really Jacob Lincoln?’ she repeated.

Ben shrugged and grinned contritely.

Holly’s voice hissed as she turned on Ben, her pent-up mortification whirling into a terrible rage. ‘And knowing all of this you set up this dinner, told him that I was “husband hunting”, and that he was my number one contender?’

Beth also turned on her husband. ‘Did you really do all of those things?’

Ben held his hands up in submission. ‘Hey, you guys dragged me into this ridiculous plan of yours. So, I took you to a gathering teeming with numerous available red-blooded men and you hid in the bathroom all night. And then I ask the most eligible of all red-blooded men I know to dinner and you attack me.’

Holly was having none of it. ‘But you told him—’

‘The truth, Holly. But to tell you the truth I really did wonder if my two best friends in the whole world might not hit it off.’

Beth’s face softened easily. ‘That’s so sweet. Holly, forgive Ben.’

Holly sat back, all angered out. Her face was heated from her strained whispers and her head spun with the maze of words and deeds they had created for themselves.

Beth giggled. ‘Now poor Jacob thinks Holly’s hot for him. No wonder he has been acting so strangely.’

‘Ah, well, actually,’ Ben said, ‘he knows the whole deal and has been pulling your legs all night.’

‘Ha!’ Beth said, clapping her hands together. ‘Now that’s more like the Jacob Lincoln of old.’

But Holly was not so amused. She was thinking. And planning. ‘He knows the whole deal and he thinks I’m now sweating it.’

‘Well, gorgeous, you have pretty much been sweating it all night,’ Ben said.

‘But I’m not now.’ Now she knew the glimmer in Jacob’s eyes had indicated he was enjoying an elaborate joke, not that he was sizing her up for a wedding dress.

Well, if it was fun and games he liked…

CHAPTER FIVE

WHEN Jacob re-entered the room Holly was standing by her empty chair, eyes closed, rocking her head side to side. He suppressed a grin as he settled back in his chair. He shouldn’t have been worried; he still had the upper hand. He had the poor woman in knots.

As he watched she ran a hand up her side, and then back and forth across her shoulder, eyes still closed, head tossed back, leisurely massaging out those very knots. Her mouth dropped open and a blissful groan escaped her lips.

Whoa.

Jacob shifted in his seat, suddenly feeling mighty uncomfortable. He set his teeth and tore his eyes away before he would be forced to make another hasty exit to recollect his wits.

‘What did I miss?’ he asked, purposely not including Holly in his question.

But Holly had ceased her rub-down, and Jacob’s gaze was magnetically drawn to the movement. He did not miss a single curve as her hand made its unhurried journey back down her side to rest provocatively on her hip.

‘Nothing significant, Jacob,’ Holly purred. ‘I was just saying how much I was hankering for something sweet.’

Her lashes batted heavily against her cheeks, then her gaze fluttered and drifted to his lips.

The words ‘then come and get it’ sat precariously close to the tip of Jacob’s tongue. Get a hold of yourself, he told himself. You’re imagining things. You’re just tired. It’s not been a week; can you still blame the jet lag?

‘Time for dessert, then, I think,’ Beth said, her voice cheerful. Jacob flicked his glance to his other dinner companions. He had momentarily forgotten they were even there.

It took all of Jacob’s concentration to focus on Beth, chatting to her about her nursery plans, resolutely ignoring Holly as she moved around the table clearing the dinner plates. His resolve weakened as he sensed her reach the back of his chair and it shattered when she bent to retrieve his plate and fanned a warm breath of air against his ear. It was all he could do to keep a straight face as a violent shiver racked his body.

Then, before disappearing into the kitchen, Holly turned and threw him a sultry wink.

Jacob stared at the closed kitchen door. She had assured him nothing significant had happened in his absence. She had fibbed.

In five mystery minutes, she had transformed from an overwhelmed young woman into a raging siren. And despite himself he was enthralled. Under that haughty façade lurked a hell-cat just waiting to claw her way out. It could be a lot of fun unlocking the door to that particular cage.

Jacob blinked his eyes back into focus to find Ben red-faced and shaking with laughter and Beth wiping tears of mirth from her cheeks.

And the truth dawned on him.

‘She knows.’ Jacob threw his napkin on the table in defeat.

‘She knows,’ Ben admitted. ‘Shouting and hitting from you is nothing compared with the combined wrath of those two.’

‘So,’ Beth asked, her voice playful, ‘are you going to propose to her now or after dessert?’

From the kitchen, Holly was glad to hear laughter.

She was about to return to the dining room to retrieve the cutlery when the kitchen door flapped open and Jacob joined her, cutlery in hand.

‘Oh.’ She took a step back, swamped by the man’s considerable presence in the small kitchen. He leant past her to place the silverware in the sink, the sleeve of his dark grey suit jacket brushing against her arm. The sensation of the roughened wool against smooth bare skin was electric.

‘I’m happy to clear. Go sit back down.’ She waved him away with a flourish, and took two steps back leaving her flush against the kitchen cupboards. She desperately hoped he would leave her alone. But hoping did not make it so.

‘Actually, I’m here to talk. The cutlery was just an excuse.’

‘Oh,’ she murmured again.

‘That was some act you put on in there.’

Her blush was back. ‘Your performance wasn’t so bad either.’

He lowered his voice so that it washed over her as a soft rumble. ‘Though I don’t know that I can outdo your last turn—not with an audience, anyway.’

Gulp.

‘So how about we call it even?’ He held out his hand. ‘Truce?’

Holly stared for several moments before reaching out and clasping it. His hand was soft and strong and she was thankful his palm was as warm as hers. When she let go she ran a nervous finger around the neckline of her dress.

‘And I also wanted to apologise for that morning on the street.’

Holly’s finger stopped, mid tug.

‘That was atypical behaviour for me,’ he said. ‘And though I was jet-lagged, that was no excuse for bad manners.’

He stopped talking and Holly realised he was waiting for her to say something next.

‘You didn’t tell Ben that, did you?’ she blurted out. Or Ben would have told Beth for sure and there would be no living it down. ‘You didn’t let on we had met before? That we met that way?’

‘Ah, not as far as I remember.’

‘Then don’t. Please. For reasons inexplicable and uninteresting I would rather our first meeting stay our little secret.’

‘Sure.’

Holly blinked. She had expected it to be harder than that. According to her theory he was supposed to be obstinate and unyielding.

‘And one more thing, just to clear the air,’ Jacob said.

‘Go for your life.’ So glad she was safe from Beth’s karma and kismet conversation, Holly was ready to tell him anything.

‘Do you mind telling me why you think you need Ben’s help to find a husband?’ He leant his large frame against the cupboards at her side and she had to look up to meet his eye.

‘Oh,’ she said for the third time in as many minutes, the blush now spreading all the way to her toes. ‘Isn’t that a little personal?’

Jacob laughed. ‘Personal? You were ready to marry me before seven o’clock tonight.’

Holly’s hands flew from where they gripped the cool kitchen sink to cover her fast-reddening cheeks. ‘Don’t remind me, please.’

She slowly lowered her hands from her face, thinking it must have been hot in the small room. His cheeks were as pink as hers felt. She wasn’t just imagining it.

Then without warning Jacob raised his hand and ran a finger over a stray lock of hair that had escaped its confines. He slid it back into place behind her ear, his fingertip resting by her cheek for a few lingering moments. And during those long drawn-out seconds she could not have dragged her eyes away from his for all the world.

The scraping of a chair in the dining room brought Holly out of her reverie and she spun around to face the plates of dessert she had been preparing. Jacob cleared his throat and walked from the room without another word.

Holly went to pick up two plates and saw that her hands were shaking. She carefully placed the plates back onto the bench and took a couple of deep breaths.

‘He’s the enemy, remember,’ she said aloud. ‘The anti-husband. He was put on this earth to test you. If you can resist him, you can resist any of his kind.’ She glared at her hands, demanding they not shake as she took the plates into the other room.

Hours later Holly helped Beth up to the master bedroom and left the men to say their goodnights downstairs. As Beth got into bed she said, ‘He’s a sweetie, Holly.’

‘Of course he is or you wouldn’t have married him.’

‘I mean Jacob, you dope.’

Sweet’s the last word I’d use, Holly thought. ‘Yeah, well, the jury is still out on that one.’

‘Promise me you’ll give him a chance.’

Not likely. ‘Sure, honey. For you, anything.’

‘Good…goodnight…’

Holly kissed her sleepy friend on the cheek and headed quietly downstairs. The men’s voices wafted up the stairwell. Holly stopped halfway down, her heart beating so loudly in her ears she was sure they would hear it too and know she was there.

‘Give her a chance,’ she heard Ben say. It made her smile, thinking how alike Ben and Beth were. But her smile soon faded at Jacob’s response.

‘Give me a break, Ben, I’ve been back in the country for a few days, and haven’t even found the time to acquire a housekeeper. Besides which I have no idea how long I’m staying this time and you know my views on marriage. What were you thinking?’

She knew it! In that first instant when they had crashed together on the street she had seen it. She sensed this guy was the epitome of the inaccessible male. He was the antithesis of kind, committed Ben. Her theory had been right all along.

Holly strained to listen when there was a brief pause in the conversation.

‘Unless of course she’s handy with a feather duster…then both of our problems would be solved in one fell swoop.’

Charming! She waited for Ben’s protest—which never came.

‘Not likely, I’m afraid. A bit of a princess, our Holly.’

Ben! He always joked she would not know one end of a broom from the other, but did he have to describe her that way to a stranger? She pictured him describing her to other prospective men. ‘She’s a cutie, our Holly,’ she could imagine Ben saying. ‘She can cook up a storm but it will be you scrubbing the bathroom tiles.’

Great. No wonder his first attempts had been such failures. Well, she would sort him out later so they could get this project back onto track.

Holly made great noise coming down the rest of the stairs, clumping loudly and whistling inanely.

‘Isn’t Beth asleep?’ Ben asked, shushing her.

Holly clenched her fists at her side. ‘Thanks for a super evening, Benny,’ she said.

Jacob helped her into her coat at the front door. She wrapped a scarf around her neck but held onto her gloves, glaring at Ben and mouthing unpleasant promises as he waved goodbye and closed the front door with a soft click.

The rain had stopped but had left a slick sheen on the ground so Holly had no choice but to accept Jacob’s elbow as they walked down the slippery front steps.

At the bottom of the driveway they reached Holly’s car and she finally jerked her arm away. ‘Thank you,’ she said. Her breath showed white in the frosty midnight air.

‘My pleasure.’ He slipped his hands into his deep pockets.

‘Look—’ They both spoke at the same time. Jacob motioned for Holly to speak first.

‘It’s unlikely we will run into each other often, so, I think it best we just pretend we never met.’

‘Sure,’ Jacob said. ‘No problem.’

Hmm. She had expected, ‘If you say so,’ or even, ‘If you insist.’ But, ‘No problem’? Was she that easily forgettable?

Bothered beyond good sense, she mustered her haughtiest attitude. ‘No matter what Ben told you, and not that it matters what you think, I am no princess.’

Jacob laughed, his head thrown back as he let out great effusive guffaws. Holly was shocked into momentary silence.

‘You heard that?’ Jacob finally asked, his eyes sparkling in merriment.

‘Loud and clear. And I think that was extremely wrong of Ben and rude of you to even joke about such a thing.’

‘Are you done?’

She looked up, surprised at his short tone.

‘Well, yes, I thought that quite about covered it—’

Jacob leant over and placed a light kiss on her open mouth, succeeding in shutting her up. His hands remained in his pockets and her hands held her gloves in front of her at chest height. And since his toes were a couple of feet from hers, the only points of contact were their four, warm, amenable lips.

It took the merest moment for the unexpected tenderness of his kiss to wash its magic over her. On impulse Holly closed her eyes and tilted her head only ever so slightly. But it was enough.

Jacob took her hint and he leant that little bit closer to explore the warmth and thrill as unexpected yearning lit between them. And what started as little more than an overly friendly goodnight peck deepened into something very different. It was delicate. It was yielding. It was lovely.

After enjoying a few moments of unchecked ardour, they pulled apart.

Holly rocked back on her heels; luckily the car was there to catch her as she swayed. Her tongue ran over the back of her teeth and she could taste after dinner mints. She rocked forward as she opened her eyes and sighed, unconsciously biting her lower lip.

The adorable dimples reappeared on Jacob’s smooth cheeks as he smiled. ‘I think now it’s time to go our separate ways. You and I have already created far too many inconsistent memories for one night.’

‘Goodnight, Jacob,’ Holly whispered, not trusting her husky voice.

‘Goodnight, Holly,’ he said, but his eyes were saying anything but. He let out a ragged breath, shook his head and turned away.

Holly dragged in a deep breath, revelling in the sweet smell of recent rain that wafted towards her on the light night breeze.

She opened her car door but turned quickly when she saw him coming back up the rise. She leant back on her car, holding her breath waiting to see what he would surprise her with next.

‘I have to say this,’ he declared, his face obscured by the darkness. ‘You are an intriguing, vibrant and beautiful woman, Holly. Know your own worth.’

And then he turned and disappeared into the foggy night.

CHAPTER SIX

HOLLY waited until in between races to make her way from the big white marquee on the oval in the centre of the track where the Hidden Valley Greyhound Course fundraiser was being held. She stepped carefully, lifting her feet high as she made her way across the muddy dirt track.

Colonel Charles Lyneham, a long-retired Steward of the Course and her guest of honour, had gone for a walk around an hour before and had not returned, so Holly had set out to find him.

She ducked through a spot in the fence where the wire had broken away years before and headed up the old wooden steps to the grandstand. She checked in the clerk’s offices, the betting areas and even in the car park. But the colonel was nowhere to be seen. She headed for the public bar, hoping she would not find him there.

As she rounded the corner the scene hit her like déjà vu. The smell of beer, mud and sweat. She, standing on the outside looking in, searching for someone she had lost. The only difference was years before her view had been from a couple of feet closer to the ground. At least now she was the right height to have a chance at finding a familiar silver-topped head standing tall above the pack.

She lifted on tiptoe but instead of finding said familiar silver-topped head, she recognised a pair of stunning, laughing hazel eyes looking her way.

Her heels dropped straight to the ground, her mind turning to the last time she had seen those eyes; midnight in a fog-shrouded street, after an exquisite kiss that had confused her exceedingly.

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