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Blind Dates and Other Disasters: The Wedding Wish
Ally Blake

Barbara Hannay

Fiona Harper


Party planner Holly can’t find the perfect man – it’s time to turn to her friends to help her out.But after a string of horrific dates, will Jake Lincoln be the man for her? Serena wishes she could ignore her unconventional upbringing and settle down with her dream man! So she’s heading out on a blind date. But her date is a man who lives by one rule: never get married!Annie is stuck in the Outback without any men for miles. When she meets Damien on an internet chat group, she immediately heads to the city to meet him. Then Theo steps in to take Damien’s place…












Blind

Dates and

Other

Disasters





Ally Blake

Fiona Harper

Barbara Hannay












www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)



The Wedding Wish Ally Blake




About the Author


When ALLY BLAKE was a little girl she made a wish that when she turned twenty-six she would marry an Italian two years older than her. After it actually came true she realised she was on to something with these wish things. So next she wished that she could make a living spending her days in her pyjamas, eating M&Ms and drinking scads of coffee while turning her formative experiences of wallowing in teenage crushes and romantic movies into creating love stories of her own. The fact that she is now able to spend her spare time searching the internet for pictures of handsome guys for research purposes is merely a bonus!

Come along and visit her website at www.allyblake.com


This book is dedicated to Mark, my angel,

who looked after me, brought me M&Ms

and made me feel like I had it in me all the time.




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 hometown 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 deservesit.’

‘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 littlepersonal?’

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.

Suddenly a man reached out from the throng and grabbed her by the elbow, drawing her within the swelling crowd and giving her a big brotherly kiss on the cheek.

‘Ben! What are you doing here?’ Holly said, looking behind him half expecting Jacob to be hot on his trail.

‘The company has a corporate box and Link sequestered it for the day. All the management guys are here for a welcome home bash. Come join us.’

‘I can’t, Ben. I’m here on a mission not a play date.’ She tried to step back outside the bar but the crowd had long since swallowed them whole. ‘Have you seen Charles Lyneham? He’s with my party and seems to have gone walkabout.’

‘The colonel? He’s with us.’

Ben held her fast by the arm and dragged her through the crush. Bumped and jostled from all sides, she had no choice but to hug Ben’s arm with both hands and hang on tight.

‘Link found him wandering around outside after the first race,’ Ben said. ‘He coaxed him in for a tipple and he’s been with us ever since. Now you’ll have to come say hello.’

‘Great,’ Holly said. ‘He’s due to make a thank-you speech at our fundraiser in little under half an hour, and, the thing is, Charlie does not merely tipple. Now, thanks to your friend, if he’s been in the bar tippling for an hour, it’s very likely he will be there all day.’

Ben shrugged but had the good grace to look sheepish. ‘Sorry, gorgeous.’

Jacob’s hearty laughter rang out above their conversation and, despite her deliberate disapproval, she enjoyed every second of the delightful sound, an unwitting smile tugging at the corners of her own mouth. He certainly cut a compelling picture, standing taller than most of the others, one hand wrapped around a frosty glass of beer, the other tucked into the pocket of his suit trousers, and one foot casually resting on the bottom rung of a bar stool.

He was just ten feet away. The room was airless and muggy. Her face was hot and her palms sweating. And with each step nearer her heartbeat quickened.

She tottered after Ben, still holding tight so she wouldn’t tumble and be crushed underfoot. She ventured a furtive glance around. No sign of Charlie, but she had no doubt he would not be far away.

Five feet. She felt eager and sick to the stomach all at once.

Come on, look up, see me. Let’s just get it over with. Let’s see if that kiss meant as little to you as it did to me.

‘Link,’ Ben called out over the noise.

Jacob looked their way. His ready smile brightened, and he winked as he caught sight of Ben. Then his glance shifted sideways to Holly and the smile changed.

His bright eyes darkened, clouded, his thick lashes descended mere millimetres until he was watching her from beneath them. The corners of his mouth fell. The warmth in his expression was more than a match for the heat pulsing through her body at that moment.

Then his gaze left her face to glance down to where she was hugging Ben’s left arm tight to her chest.

She let go. Quickly. Hating the fact she must have seemed so helpless, in her neat dress, her prim hair, clinging to Ben for protection against the unruly crowd.

Ben did not seem to notice, he just turned and smiled and placed a protective arm behind her back as he drew her into the group.

When Jacob looked back to Holly’s face his smile was gone, and his once warm eyes were now cool and unreadable. He brought his glass up, and tilted it in her direction in an abrupt salute before drinking in a substantial mouthful and turning back to his men.

Holly’s face burned. Sure, she had been the one to insist they pretend they had never met, but, still, she had not expected it to be so easy for him. In his company she could feel her pulse throbbing all the way to her toes. Yet this guy obviously felt nothing. He was too cool.

Ugh! Why had she expected it to be any different? She knew she had him pegged but for a moment had foolishly expected him to prove her wrong. Well, it looked as if her theory still stood the test. So be it.

She deliberately turned away from Jacob and assumed her most brilliant smile.

‘I heard you gentlemen had waylaid a friend of mine.’

The men stopped talking as one.

‘Sorry, Holly,’ Ben said, ‘it slipped my mind. Holly is in charge of the fundraiser under the big marquee and it seems we have stolen away her guest of honour.’ He looked around, his hand never leaving Holly’s back. ‘Where has the young colonel gone?’

‘It’s his round, I’m afraid,’ one young, good-looking member of the group said, his eyes on Holly, full of invitation. ‘No way we could let him go until he’d paid his debt. So, you’ll just have to wait with us until he gets back. And since this great lug won’t introduce us, I’m Matt Riley. The new Accounts guy.’

‘Nice to meet you Matt. I’m Holly Denison.’ She shook his hand. It held hers for a fraction longer than necessary.

‘I know,’ he said.

Ben’s joke came swimming back to her and Holly had visions of her photograph and phone number in the men’s room at his work—

‘I saw you at the fight.’

This guy was at the fight? He was one of the men she’d had the possibility of meeting that night? She took a closer look at the very real option before her. Tall, athletic, nice smile. Very cute.

Then from behind her Jacob openly scoffed. Holly spun on her heel and turned narrowed eyes his way, but to little avail. His distant expression was unaltered.

‘You must have good eyesight, Riley. She was there for all of ten seconds.’

His gaze held hers without a hint of remorse. She glared back, her infuriated eyes daring him to go on and at the same time demanding he say not another word.

He turned to face Matt and shrugged. ‘From what Benny boy told me, anyway.’

‘Well, obviously ten seconds was enough to make an impression on me. But you did your runner before I had the chance to say hi.’

Holly spun back to face her new suitor and beamed, before flicking a smug grin over her shoulder at Jacob.

‘You don’t say.’

Go, Matt, she thought, you’re definitely younger, possibly cuter, and certainly more of a gentleman than the loud mouth behind me. Fair where Jacob is dark. Candid where Jacob is confusing. Yes, very cute indeed. But I think you know it too. Highly likely another party personality at work.

Suddenly disinclined to play favourites, she broke away from Matt’s concentrated attention and introduced herself to several other young men, most of them her age, a couple of them uncommonly good-looking. These guys were in the inner sanctum so they were obviously smart, successful and hand picked by Ben to work at Lincoln Holdings. This was exactly who Ben should have been setting her up with.

She was able to enjoy the possibilities for several moments until she once more locked eyes with Jacob. He wasn’t smiling at her as the other men were; he was practically smirking. Sitting back, arms crossed, like an omniscient little devil watching over her. Evidently, he knew exactly what was going on in her mind.

Holly plastered the smile to her face and shrugged. Why deny it? What was it to him anyway?

‘Holly, my sweet. How good of you to join us.’ It was the colonel, back with a round of drinks. ‘I would have invited you to come up here with me but it’s been years since I have seen you step foot in this ancient inn.’

‘Charlie,’ Holly said, her antagonism subsiding in the company of the darling old man, ‘you know I would go anywhere you asked me to. But we do have another arrangement today. Remember the fundraiser?’

Charlie nodded.

‘The big marquee? Your thank-you speech?’

He stopped nodding. ‘Oh.’

She studied him carefully for signs he had been drinking. He was sweating a little, but so was she in the hot, confined space. He was upright and his speech was not slurred. Shy of sniffing the drink in his hand she had no idea if he had been ‘tippling’ as Ben had suggested.

‘I suggest we let Charlie finish his lemonade,’ Jacob said, ‘then we can all head down and listen to this great speech of his. What do you say, Ms Denison?’

Lemonade? Holly looked up into Jacob’s face in amazement. Gone was the smirk. In its stead was a raised eyebrow, an easy smile. How had he known?

‘Sounds fair to me,’ Holly said, sending Jacob a terse nod of thanks.

The colonel downed the remainder of his lemonade with one swift, practised flick of his wrist. ‘Off we go then.’

Holly turned towards the front of the bar and found she was confronted once more by a seething mass of white shirts and ties. She physically dreaded forcing her way through the hot, sweaty throng. But then Jacob’s voice bellowed from just behind her.

‘Clear the way, gentlemen! The colonel is coming through.’

All of the men nearby acquiesced, and once the Chinese whispers spread through the place a clear, snaking path, an amazing sort of honour guard, formed from their table to the door. The colonel smoothed down his suit and with head held high traversed the way.

Holly felt a warm hand land softly in the small of her back. She turned to find Jacob bowing gallantly towards her, his face mere inches from her own.

‘Shall we, Ms Denison?’ He removed his warm hand and offered his elbow. She looked into his quixotic hazel eyes searching for a trap. Unfortunately they were as inscrutable as he chose them to be.

Ahead of her the extraordinary meandering path was threatening to collapse back in on itself. For once Jacob’s company seemed the lesser of two evils, so she took his arm and walked at his side.

The back of Holly’s hand rubbed against Jacob’s shirt-covered bicep, the sensation heated, intoxicating, reprehensible. Thankfully the awareness of that tantalising touch was shortlived, as soon the peripheral heat was all that registered.

The room was stifling, her view filled with sweaty, leering faces. Somebody trod on her foot and spinning around to apologise, they spilt drink down her side. She leapt back, clutching onto Jacob’s arm with both hands. He immediately wrapped a protective hand over the top of hers, its warmth and tenderness calming her a little.

Feeling claustrophobic, she closed her eyes, and allowed herself to be led the rest of the way blind. Only once bright sunlight lit the inside of her eyelids blood red did she open them.

Finding they were now in the big open space at the top of the grandstand, she hungrily inhaled the fresh, cool winter air, her breath releasing on a shudder.

She turned to thank Jacob but he was in conversation with two of his men, pointing towards the track where Race Three had just begun. And Holly knew she would not get any sense from any of them until the event was over.

The first two races had been won by the favourites and Holly expected no different ending to this one. She remained silent, unmoved as the dogs rounded the final bend.

The sparse crowd in the grandstand rose to its collective feet and the men in her own party jumped up and down, yelling and screaming, and clutching their betting slips in tight, agitated fists. The favourite, Sir Pete, was a nose behind, and the possibility of an upset electrified the air.

‘I don’t know why they get so excited,’ Holly muttered under her breath, ‘Sir Pete will win.’

‘Don’t bet on it,’ Jacob said equally quietly, his eyes bright.

‘I never would.’

Then, in the last twenty metres, Sir Pete put on a phenomenal burst of speed and finished two body lengths ahead of his nearest competitor.

‘I hate to lose,’ Jacob said through comically clenched teeth as he ceremoniously tore up his losing bet. ‘So pick the favourite.’

A huge grin broke out over his face, its effortless brilliance surprising her, catching her unawares and sending a blissful rush from her neck to her toes.

‘You are one surprising woman, Holly Denison.’

Definitely time to go back to her party.




CHAPTER SEVEN


ONLY when Holly made to follow her departing group did she find herself still attached to Jacob’s arm. Flicking him an apologetic smile, she released her steel grip. But he pulled her back until she was flush against him.

‘Not just yet, Ms Denison. Before I let you go, I have a question I simply must have answered.’

His voice was low and husky. His face was in shadow, and his dark hair in a halo of sunlight as he stood with his back to the sun.

‘Ask away,’ she said, her voice reedy.

‘What on earth are you wearing on your feet?’

Holly blinked. Looked at her feet. And grinned. In all the confusion, she had plum forgotten.

‘Haven’t you even seen a pair of galoshes before, Mr Lincoln?’

‘Of course. I have even seen ones that yellow before. But not, I must admit, on a grown woman, otherwise dressed to the hilt as you are. Is this some kind of fashion statement?’

‘Hmm. You have been away too long, haven’t you? Bright yellow galoshes are Melbourne’s must-have fashion item this winter.’

‘Throw out the little black dress?’ he asked.

Holly brought her spare hand to her heart and gasped in mock shock. ‘Gosh, no. Never. But wear with the little black dress? Of course.’

Jacob nodded, his expression deadly serious, as though impressed by her wealth of fashion knowledge. He eased her into a slow ramble towards the grandstand steps.

‘Now you’ve answered the what, do I get to hear thewhy?’

Holly paused a moment for effect. ‘So my feet don’t get wet.’

Jacob glanced at her sideways and raised one unconvinced eyebrow.

‘Okay. After last night’s downpour, I arrived this morning to find the ground below my marquee ankle-deep in mud. Rather than have guests whose only memory of the day would be their wet feet, and without having to move the whole shebang up to a dreary old conference room with no view of the track, I brought in enough galoshes and warm socks to shoe my entire guest list.’

As her tale unfurled Jacob stopped watching the group ahead of him, and concentrated fully on her, his eyes growing bright with delight.

‘And besides you, did anybody actually dare to wear them?’

‘Sure. Everybody.’

Holly pulled Jacob up short as they had reached the fence line that separated the crowd from the track. Jacob looked about for the rest of their group and finding them heaving themselves awkwardly over the fence several metres away, he tried tugging her in their direction.

But Holly tugged him back.

She beamed at him proudly, then slipped effortlessly through the concealed hole in the fence that the others did not know was there. Jacob watched in amazement before following her through.

They trudged across the muddy dirt track, nearing the huge white marquee, which glowed brightly in the midday sun, the canvas roof flapping softly in the light breeze. The sounds of clinking glasses and happy chatter wafted across the way.

Holly smiled inwardly. Jacob looked so dubious. His expression was like a child’s on Christmas Day, just before opening his present from Grandma. Would it be the monster truck he had been promised or would it be tartan hankies again?

Jacob’s doubt was written so clearly across his face that Holly’s inward smile twisted with sadness. She had the feeling that he probably always doubted good things could happen until he saw them with his own two eyes. This was a man who knew disappointment.

The men ahead of them lifted the flap and headed inside. Holly and Jacob came close on their heels. Enjoying the moment intensely, Holly made sure she got there first. She grabbed a hold of the big flap and feeling like a ringmaster, opened it with a flourish.

Jacob was astounded.

Inside the marquee were glass-topped tables, candlelight shimmered from every spare surface and even from makeshift chandeliers hanging low from the ceiling. Heaters were scattered discreetly throughout the tent. The walls crawled with ivy interweaved with daisies and daffodils. The effect was like a mirage, a dash of springtime in the middle of the gloomy, muddy oval outside.

He scanned the faces of the people in the room. Many familiar, several famous. All laughing and drinking and obviously having a ball. And all were wearing bright yellow galoshes.

He turned to Holly, who was watching him with a satisfied grin splashed across her lovely face. ‘I am impressed.’ ‘And your feet?’ she asked.

Jacob lifted one foot and saw the kid leather was wet through and through. ‘Ruined. Even my socks are soaked.’

Holly gave a quick nod to someone outside Jacob’s field of view and within a couple of seconds a waiter arrived, the tray in his arms laden with a pair of brand new galoshes and a pair of thick cotton socks, both in size extra large.

‘Do I have to?’ he asked.

‘What do you think?’

In answer Jacob grabbed the galoshes and pulled up a spare garden chair. He held up his wet leather lace-ups and the waiter swapped the ruined shoes for a cloakroom ticket and disappeared to look after other guests.

‘There,’ Holly said. ‘Now you fit in. Now you’re one ofus.’

She turned away to give instructions to an earnest young man with a clipboard. She was efficient. She liked being in control.

And then he realised: she was happy because he had done what she wanted him to do. He bristled, hating the feeling of being constrained, of being dared to make a choice not his own.

He was a free man with nothing and no one holding him down. He had lived that other life, being beholden to someone else’s needs and wishes. And he never wanted to go that way again. Then he stopped himself.

Relax. It’s a pair of shoes. This is one afternoon. You cangive over to someone else’s wishes for one afternoon. It’s not like you will be giving over the decision-making to the woman for a lifetime.

A lifetime. And he remembered. She was on the hunt for a husband and had convinced Ben to help her.

Why? She was gorgeous. Slim, with curves in all the right places and the sort of lush dark hair any man would love to run his fingers through. And he knew those legs of hers were long, lithe, and smooth, though right now half hidden beneath those ridiculous rubber boots.

She had been attracting plenty of interested looks since she had walked in, and earlier his men had practically tripped over each other for the sake of one of her smiles.

Jacob observed a couple of well-dressed sorts on the other side of the tent obviously talking about her. And he felt an unexpected urge to go to her. To shield her from their view. To defend her against their scrutiny.

She must have caught him watching her as she raised her eyebrows in question. She held up a finger to tell him she would only be a moment.

Her face was so open. She smiled, she frowned, and every thought was out there for all to see. And as he watched her face became more familiar and comfortable every second. It was not long before he felt as if he knew every expression her lovely face could generate.

Finally, she came over and slumped into a chair beside him and at once in such close proximity, away from the beer and the sweaty men, a sudden sweet scent drifted his way. It was heady and rich, like jasmine. It was her. And it rocked him.

Trouble. The word rang unbidden in his head. Without even trying, this one could prove to be a whole truckload of trouble. He should go. Back to his corporate box. Back to the office. Back to the other side of the world.

He should. But he couldn’t. Not yet, anyway. ‘You are a workhorse, Ms Denison,’ he said, his tone chatty.

‘All for the good of the racecourse,’ she said.

‘And all for the good of Cloud Nine’s coffers.’

‘Not this one, I’m afraid. This one is my own little baby and Cloud Nine have learnt to look the other way.’

‘You are doing all this for nothing?’

‘Don’t get me wrong. I’m not footing the bill for all this grandeur. The costs for the day will come out of the takings, but I promise it will turn a very tidy profit.’

‘Of which you will see not a cent?’ Jacob could not believe he had heard right.

Holly laughed. ‘You are such a doubting Thomas, Mr Lincoln. I promise I will not see even forty cents for a phone call.’

‘Why?’

‘These fundraisers make enough every year to keep the place running. If I took my usual percentage the day would be redundant.’

‘But why here? Why this place? You said before you never bet. Do you just love the greyhounds that much?’

She pulled a face. ‘Not at all. The whole half-starved puppies chasing a rabbit thing doesn’t do it for me. It’s just for the colonel, really.’

‘How do you know him so well?’

She opened her mouth to answer but seemed to think better of it. She glanced around as though searching for a reason, or maybe a change of subject, and seemed to visibly relax when she saw the colonel coming her way.

‘Holly, my sweet!’ he said, his arms outstretched, ready to take her in.

She stood and gave the old man a big hug. Jacob felt an uncomfortable contraction in his chest at the sudden change in her. With him she was still the cool, confident, modern Melbourne woman, but in the company of the right person she blossomed into a completely different creature. Her smiles were softer, sweeter, with an abundant capacity for effortless delight.

‘Charlie. Are you having a good time?’ ‘Always, my pet.’

‘Are you ready for your speech? You are up in about ten minutes.’

‘No problem. You are a sweet girl.’ The colonel turned to Jacob. ‘Our little mascot she was, always running around underfoot. Long hair flying behind her as she ran about the grandstands collecting old tickets, looking for the one that got away.’

A snippet of conversation from the grandstand snuck back into Jacob’s consciousness. Not knowing how to fit the mismatched pieces into her story, he felt the fragment flutter away.

‘And look at that little scar.’ The colonel pointed at the bridge of Holly’s nose and, though she swatted his hand away playfully, Jacob thought he saw a moment of panic in her action. ‘Barely there now. All healed.’

Holly cut the colonel off, grabbing him around the middle and dragging him away, rolling her expressive blue eyes behind his back. ‘Anyway, Charlie, it’s all well and good taking us down amnesia lane, but it’s time to get you to the stage. Excuse us, Jacob.’

And this time when she smiled it was just for him. And he knew, despite his very sensible inner protests, he was not going anywhere any time soon.

The colonel’s speech went brilliantly. It was funny, sweet, and tender enough to have those listening make enough donations to run the old Hidden Valley Greyhound Course for another good year.

Jacob and Ben had waited for Holly. The other guys had gone back to the city to finish off their celebration, minus their guest of honour, and Holly offered to drop the two men home.

As the sun set over the all but empty racecourse they crossed the track in companionable silence. The ground had dried somewhat and they were all now in regular footwear. Though Holly, in her high heels, had a little trouble matching their long strides.

‘Isn’t this where you are supposed to lay down your coats for me?’ she asked the men.

‘I thought that was only for a queen,’ Ben said from a few steps ahead of them.

‘And we know you are only a princess,’ Jacob whispered against her ear, sending thrilling hot shivers down the back of her neck. Holly poked out her tongue, though inside she was feeling far from flippant.

No matter how often she reminded herself of her perfectly good theory, she was beginning to sense there was more going on behind Jacob’s taciturn gaze than she had at first thought. For instance, what sort of man would have the strength of personality to be able to persuade an alcoholic to drink lemonade in a public bar?

But maybe that was not the point. Maybe the theory just needed a little tweak. Maybe her archetypal Mr Standoffish was born with a conscience; just not with the commitment gene. He could be attractive as Adonis, and as intelligent as Plato, but would he be devoted as say, Ben?

That she very much doubted.

Jacob pressed a gentle hand to her back as they reached the gate to the car park. She leapt away from him as though his warm fingers were laced with fire. He did not seem to notice, he just kept herding her through the space and dropped his hand casually as they reached her car.

First Holly dropped Jacob back to the Lincoln Holdings offices where he was planning to put in a few more hours. He hopped out of the car, then peered through the driver window.

‘Thanks for the lift.’

‘No problem.’ She had left the engine running at the ready for a quick getaway.

‘And for the lovely afternoon. It was most … unexpected.’

She smiled, her lips tight, her hands clasping and unclasping the steering wheel. He was so close she could sense the remnants of his aftershave. Sweet and dry at the same time. Delicious.

He placed his hands on the bottom of the open window and leant in, his breath fanning her face as he spoke beyond her to Ben. ‘See you tomorrow, Benny boy.’

Ben cocked his hand like a pistol. ‘Shall do, boss.’

Jacob turned to Holly, his face still only inches from hers. It was all she could do not to close her eyes, drink in his delectable scent.

‘I’ll see you, Holly,’ he said, and by his tone she believed it. He leant in and brushed a fleeting kiss upon her cheek. His lips were warm, soft, and gone all too soon. ‘Promise me you will get Benny boy home to Beth in one piece.’

‘I promise. Goodbye, Jacob.’

And as soon as his hands left the window she sped away. Allowing herself one brief glance in the rear-view mirror she saw Jacob standing in the road, his hands in his trouser pockets, watching her.

She kept her focus on the road ahead though her mind was spinning in another direction. ‘Have you found anyone else to set me up with?’

Ben paused, as he seemed to absorb this question. ‘I’m sure I could rustle up a couple of possibilities.’

‘Then do it. As soon as possible.’

‘If that’s what you still want.’

‘It is.’ He was watching her but she ignored him. She had said all she wanted to say on the matter. ‘Consider it done.’

She nodded, then drove Ben home to his waiting wife.




CHAPTER EIGHT


THANK GOD it’s Friday, Holly thought as the drinks waiter handed over her champagne glass of lemon, lime, bitters, and a dash of honey. She savoured a long, thankful taste before looking over the room. All of the guests at the Arty Pants Modern Art Gallery Charity Evening were smiling, chatting, and paying a good deal of attention to the art. All was well.

Until one man in the corner smiled her way. A man in an expensive suit, blond hair thinning and styled to within an inch of its life, strong tan, perfect teeth. Holly’s smile faded.

Oh, boy, not another one. Do they pop out of an assembly line just to attend parties and openings and corroborate my theory?

The man raised his glass in salute. Holly gave him a short polite nod and then moved away.

Luckily Lydia had just arrived, back from a week assisting at a Star Trek conference in Sydney.

‘Hello, gorgeous!’ Lydia called out as though she were on the other side of the room, not leaning into Holly’s arms for a fond embrace. ‘Loving it all, Holl. Great food, fabulous music and a feast for the eyes. Speaking of which, that blond dish in the corner is eyeing you up.’

Holly shot a quick glance at the man. He was still watching her over his tumbler.

‘Sorry, Lydia. Not interested.’

Lydia raised a thin blonde eyebrow in disbelief. ‘Why? Do you have something better lined up for dinner already?’

‘Hardly. The truth is, while you were away Ben set me up on a spate of blind dates and the thought of telling my life story one more time makes me feel sick to the stomach.’

‘So the husband hunt is off to a flying start, hey?’

Holly shrugged.

‘Of course, while you were off having wildly romantic nights with dozens of men, I was fending off pointy eared, eight-foot geeks in rubber masks. Though there was this one Klingon …’ She smiled slowly, before shaking her head clear. ‘Anyway, please renew my hope in mankind. Tell me they were all delicious.’

Holly laughed. ‘Tiresome, more like.’

‘Hmm. Tiresome, were they?’ Lydia waved a hand, indicating her question related entirely to bedroom pursuits.

Holly grabbed the offending hand. ‘Lydia!’

‘Come on, then. Gory details, please. I expect to be swooning at the end of this.’

‘No promises, but here goes. Wednesday’s guy took me to a restaurant where we had to sit on the floor, which was fine, until he removed his shoes. Foot odour competing with curry is not a scent I will soon forget.’

‘So buy him cotton socks. Ooh, and you could wash his feet every night. Terribly sexy. Next!’

‘Okay. Last night my blind date picked me up from work. Nice car. Nice conversation. Nice guy. Until he took me via home to meet his mother. And that was before dinner.’

‘You are too picky. Mummy’s boys can be wonderful. I’ll bet he even cooks and cleans.’

‘You think I’m too picky? Well, then, beat this, one gentleman offered to sire me a football team.’

Lydia’s effusive laugh rang across the room so that several people turned their way. ‘Now that one is a definite keeper. If you don’t want him, give him my number.’

Holly felt an unwelcome prickling in her stomach at the thought of giving Lydia’s phone number to that particular blind date.

‘I guess this means fending off next-morning phone calls from panting men is back on my job description.’

Holly did not have the opportunity to refute Lydia’s claim as her acquaintance’s eyes were fixedly focussed on something, or someone, beyond her shoulder.

‘Now that tasty morsel was worth coming along for.’ The younger woman nodded coyly at the vision behind Holly.

‘Who?’ Holly spun around to catch a glimpse of the object of Lydia’s divided attention. She could not hide her gasp at the sight of Jacob Lincoln ridding himself of his coat by the front door.

Lydia whirled straight back to Holly. ‘You know him, Itake it.’

‘Barely.’ Holly turned away from the door, her cheeks heating madly, her eyes scanning the room for safe ground.

‘Holl, you have a shockingly ineffective poker-face, you know. And if you are thinking you can avoid introducing us now, you are sorely mistaken.’

Lydia grabbed Holly by the elbow and spun her around to face the door. Together they watched the man straighten his tie, smile at the hat-check girl as he took his ticket, and then look up, overtly searching the room.

* * *

It took only a moment for Jacob to catch sight of the two women near the bar. The younger woman with the mop of blonde curls and hot pink feather boa wrapped around her thin shoulders was practically beckoning him with her eyes, whereas the woman with the sleek chestnut hair and vibrant form-hugging dress in a mix of eye-popping blues and greens seemed to be finding her shoes extremely fascinating.

Jacob took a deep breath, straightened his tense shoulders, pocketed his coat-check ticket, and made a beeline towards them.

Jacob’s usually confident gaze was flicking from side to side, his hands were clenching and unclenching in his trouser pockets and Holly knew he was, for once, unsure of himself. Amongst the bohemian crowd in which Holly felt totally at ease, Jacob was visibly unnerved, just as she had been amongst the beer, boxing and betting.

She smiled. Now they were even.

Holly guessed he probably felt more than a little overdressed, but he was disarming in his black dinner suit, crisp white shirt and lavender tie. He oozed masculinity amongst the eclectic group of buyers, dealers, artists, and hangers-on, standing out like a prize bull in a field of mangy goats.

He nodded his hello.

Holly nodded back, though her brisk glance barely connected with his. She could feel Lydia grinning enormously beside her and soon received a distinct jab in the ribs.

‘Jacob, this is my assistant, Lydia Lane. Lydia, this is Jacob Lincoln of Lincoln Holdings.’

Lydia offered her thin hand to Jacob, hot pink fingernails glinting in the created light. ‘Enchanted, Jacob.’

‘The pleasure’s all mine, Lydia,’ Jacob said, his tentative smile showcasing his dimples.

‘I never knew the man behind the name would be so young, and so damnably attractive. Either way, you are a breath of fresh air blowing into this old crowd.’

Holly tried hard not to laugh aloud at Lydia’s lavish efforts at sophistication.

Jacob leaned in closer to Lydia, his voice secretive. ‘I’ve never actually been to one of these evenings before.’

‘Really?’ Lydia whispered back. ‘Why are you here tonight, then?’

‘I was invited by the kind people of Cloud Nine Event Management.’

Holly looked up, her eyes narrowed, and finally connected fully with his. ‘No, you weren’t.’

Lydia coughed back a scandalized laugh.

‘I mean, I don’t remember seeing your name on the guest list,’ Holly said more tactfully.

Jacob reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his invitation. Holly grabbed it and saw that it was addressed to the chairman of the Find Families Homes Foundation, the main beneficiary of the night’s takings. Her eyes flew back to his.

‘That’s you?’

‘That’s me.’

‘But they’re wonderful.’ ‘Meaning I’m not?’

Drowning in Jacob’s amused eyes, Holly gulped down a lump that had begun to hinder her breathing. She looked to her drink for inspiration and, finding only bubbles that matched the sensations in her stomach, she reached deeper for an explanation.

‘No, I mean they are so kind, one of my … Cloud Nine’s favourites. Their board always sends the most wonderful appreciative notes of thanks for our efforts but they have never sent a representative to the actual events.’

‘Well, I’m here now, aren’t I?’ The tinge of a Louisiana accent leant his naturally deep voice a captivating drawl and it washed like an intimate caress over her bare shoulders.

‘Looks like someone did not do her research,’ Lydia said. ‘Not my fault, of course. I’ve been out of town.’

Jacob grinned.

‘I have a question for you, Jacob. Lincoln Holdings runs all events in-house, don’t they?’ Lydia asked. ‘Why is that?’

Trust Lydia to get straight to the point. Holly pricked up her ears, very interested in the answer.

‘I like to stay in control, so I keep my interests close. I find no point in outsourcing work when I can usually do it better.’

Holly openly scoffed.

‘Though Holly and I will agree to disagree on that point.’

‘If you are not simply an A-list party-goer, and have no use for her professional expertise, how do you know my gorgeous young friend here?’ Lydia asked.

‘We’ve only met briefly once or twice …’ Holly mumbled.

‘Mutual friends set us up on a blind date.’ Jacob answered.

The two spoke over the top of each other, with Jacob’s deep, clear voice coming out on top. Holly groaned, wishing she had not felt the need to entertain Lydia with her blind-date disaster stories earlier.

‘Oh, you have to be kidding!’ Lydia jumped up and down on the spot, clapping her hands in glee, her ringlets bobbing up and down, all efforts at sophistication blown. And Holly knew Lydia would sooner not breathe than not comment.

‘Were you the guy with the live-in mother or the one who is planning on keeping Holly with child for the next decade? If he’s the one with the foot odour, Holl, I’d wash this man’s feet morning, noon and night.’

The one with the live-in mother? The one with foot odour? Had Holly been on further blind dates since meeting him? Ben had not mentioned a word of it. True, he had not asked Ben, just assuming the misguided idea would have lost its momentum by now.

But there had been others. And though that meant she was still forging ahead on her mad husband hunt, which he wanted no part of, he found he did not like the thought of her seeing other men one little bit.

‘Come on,’ Lydia repeated, ‘which one were you?’

Holly watched Jacob under lowered eyelashes. Since Lydia’s outburst, a small muscle in his cheek had been clenching and unclenching and his bright eyes were clouded by shadow. He turned an enigmatic smile her way, his stare so focussed it knocked the breath from her lungs.

‘Well,’ he said, his deadpan gaze never leaving her face, ‘I hope I’m the one who spoilt her for all others.’

Holly’s mouth flew open wide, ready to deny the ludicrous statement outright, knowing Lydia would otherwise lap it up.

And then it dawned on her. That was exactly what he had done. On her other dates she had been distracted. When they had picked her up, her mind had wandered to the night in the foggy street. When they had sat down to dinner she’d remembered Jacob in his impeccable suit, wearing those ridiculous yellow galoshes at the greyhound track. When they’d spoken they’d been drowned out by memories of Jacob’s smooth, sonorous voice, rich with charm and that barely there accent.

She had not been looking for problems on her dates, but looking for ways in which those men could measure up to this one. Having experienced his intelligence, wicked sense of humour, and looks so fine they made her knees weak every time she caught him even glancing her way, she was finding it hard to accept less in the other men she met.

But he so clearly did not match her criteria. Too detached, too independent, too … too much. Not like Ben in the least. And Ben was her yardstick when it came to husband material.

‘How was the date, really?’ Lydia said, breaking the silence.

‘It was entirely dreadful.’ Holly said.

‘It was quite promising.’ Jacob said.

And again, his answer came through loud and clear.

‘Promisingly dreadful or dreadfully promising?’ Lydia asked.

Before either could answer, Lydia’s attention was drawn elsewhere. ‘There’s the superb St John. I have to congratulate him on his ace lithographs. I’ll leave you two sweet young things to yourselves, then, shall I?’

Lydia left in a cloud of youthful perfume and floating pink feathers, and once more Holly was alone with Jacob. She knew she should bid him good evening and walk away. The less time spent in his complicated company, the better.

She searched for a way out, someone requiring her professional attention. But she only found the simpering blond gentleman eyeing her like a hawk. She glanced back at Jacob and in a heartbeat knew the blond would be the safer option.

But it was too late. She was drawn into Jacob’s resolute hazel gaze and found herself rooted to the spot. She could not blame her bubbling drink for the hot flush creeping across her bare neck, as she had been drinking nothing bar lemon, lime and bitters with a dash of honey all night.

* * *

Jacob watched in fascination as the faint blush swept across Holly’s delicate shoulders. He felt an unrelenting urge to stroke a cool hand along her neck to feel its warmth. Her face hid nothing of the tumult raging inside her and he was amazed. Amazed at her strong physical reaction to him, though not amazed at how much he enjoyed it.

‘Why did you really come tonight?’ Holly asked, her eyes hiding none of her uncertainty.

Jacob plunged his hands deep into his pockets, knowing from her tone they were safer there than coming anywhere near this volatile vixen.

‘I had an opening in my calendar and the invitation offered free canapés.’ Jacob knew his flippant responses would wear thin, but he had no intention of telling her he had spent so much time thinking about her he was getting little work done.

The truth was he had decided the only fix was to see her again. The fantasy girl he had progressively built in his head over the last couple of days could only be toppled once tempered by the real thing. The bundle of nerves before him.

The husband hunter—who it turned out was infinitely more tempting up close and personal than even her fantasy version.

‘Where can a man get a drink around here?’ He searched the room, saw the small bar, and taking Holly by the elbow, led her to the counter. ‘Another for the lady and the same for me, please.’

‘It’s not champagne,’ Holly said.

‘That’s okay by me. You don’t drink?’

‘Not when I’m working, no.’

He had forgotten for a moment she was working. Foolishly, he had been lulled into feeling as if they were just out for a drink. He and Holly, together.

Mistake.

Holly played with one of her dangly turquoise earrings as she turned to chat to the head beverage waiter, making sure the guests had so far been happy on the drinks front.

Jacob used the quiet moment to focus, to get back to the real reason he had come. The fact that she was on the lookout for a husband was not proving to be a big enough barrier to his temptation any more. So he took a good look at her, with every intention of finding as many faults as it would take to render her unappealing.

Her customary fringe was slicked from a dramatic side parting across her forehead, and hair was drawn into a low heavy bun at her nape, leaving her creamy shoulders bare. He wished she would wear her hair down for once. There, that was a fault. Wasn’t it?

With a critical eye his gaze moved lower, meandering down the delectable curves enhanced by her stunning, sleek, psychedelic dress. The lustrous fabric fell to the top of her feet, thus hiding her lovely legs. She covered them too often. He knew he was stretching to find a fault with that, but a fault it had to be.

And then, as though she sensed the direction of his gaze, Holly’s hand left her earring and ran down her leg to her foot, unconsciously rubbing the insole. Watching, enthralled, Jacob caught a glimpse of a simple gold toe ring on one sandalled foot and it surprised him. A touch of the gypsy amidst her cool glamour. He let out a deep breath, the simple frivolity of that one piece of jewellery promising so much more. So much hidden. So much waiting to be discovered.

Through her entire conversation Holly had been sure Jacob’s eyes had not left her and as such she had barely been able to concentrate on the poor waiter, having to ask him to repeat himself on more than one occasion.

But when she looked up Jacob’s wide eyes were on the waiter, who was dipping a teaspoon in and out of their drinks.

‘Is that honey?’ he asked.

Holly merely raised her eyebrows as if to say, You asked for it. She took her drink and sipped at it happily.

Jacob took his, sniffed at it, stared at it, and shook the glass. And even put his ear close to listen to it.

‘Why don’t you just try drinking it?’ Holly said, her voice full of laughter.

‘And why don’t you sit down for a second?’

‘Fair enough.’ Holly slid onto the bar stool next to his. She groaned in gratification as she eased the weight off her sore feet. ‘So, why did you come back from overseas?’

‘The time was right.’

She nodded, though she wanted more information. More background. Just more.

‘And with your sister’s impending marriage, I bet she’s happy.’

‘She is.’ For a brief second he let down his guard and Holly saw the genuine affection he held for his sister. His face glowed with it. And it was lethally charming.

Now that was a definite chink in her theory. This guy was meant to have no attachments. He could be devoted to his business. Or even passionate about his car. But he was not meant to radiate such tenderness when talking of another person.

Hang on. The theory could still hold true; she would just have to make another slight modification. Blood relatives were an exception to the ‘no attachments’ rule. That seemed only fair.

‘And the company?’ she continued. ‘Were your employees pleased to see you? Though it does mean they will have to start actually working, stop the three-hour lunches, and fire the in-house masseuse that Ben always raves about.’

‘Are you kidding? That’s the main reason I’m back.’ He touched his hand to the back of his neck. ‘I’ve had this dull ache in my third vertebra.’

‘Sure you have.’

Feeling cosy and safe in the conversation, she could not stop herself from asking the question that had been foremost in her mind for the last few days.

‘So are you here to stay?’

The sparkle left Jacob’s eyes as he considered her for a long, agonising moment. Her heart seemed to stop beating as she awaited the answer.

‘For now.’

She nodded, though her inappropriate angst had not been assuaged one little bit.

As though sensing the sudden weight of the subject at hand, Jacob turned the conversation to more ordinary issues. They talked about the gallery, and surprisingly Jacob knew a lot about the resident artist. He even had one of ‘the superb St John’s ace lithographs’ in his apartment.

Her feet lightly aching, Holly once more ran a massaging palm over the arch of her foot.

‘Long day?’ Jacob asked.

‘Long week.’

‘Too many nights out, I think.’

She stopped rubbing and sat up, slowly, not looking his way. ‘And I’d have to agree with you.’ ‘Maybe you should cut back?’ ‘Maybe I should.’

Holly’s pulse was racing. The swirl of meaning behind their innocuous conversation reverberated in the air around them. Was he asking her not to see other men? Was she agreeing? Was she mad?

‘What if …?’ Jacob said, his voice trailing off.

What if, what? Holly thought, her nerves screaming in anticipation. She felt like a bell still resonating long after it had been struck.

‘Dinner. Tomorrow night. Just you and me.’ Jacob turned on his seat, his left hand coming down to rest upon hers. ‘No strings. Just dinner.’

His little finger was stroking, playing, tantalising, sending hot, jolting shivers from her sensitive fingertips up her bare arms, melting the length of her suddenly rigid body. And then he smiled. Strength, Holly. A smile is teeth and lips and muscles. Nothing more.

‘I won’t demand any feet-washing at the end of the night. Unless of course you feel the urge …’

She pulled her hand away. She wanted strings. That was the whole point. Holly stood up behind the bar stool, putting herself a safe distance from his potent magnetism.

‘It’s never just dinner, Jacob. And neither should it be.’

‘But—’

‘But, you know my long-term plans. I want a husband. And you can’t even tell me if you’re still going to be in the country in a week, so I’m guessing marriage is not an option in your foreseeable future.’

All colour drained from Jacob’s face and there was her answer. So he loves his sister, so he supports charities, so he has a smile that liquefies all common sense. He is and always will be the indisputable anti-husband. There never was a safer bet.

‘I didn’t think so. So there’s really no point in having dinner, is there?’

For the sake of her own disobedient feelings she simply had to hit the point home as far as she could. So she lied. ‘Besides which, you’re simply not my type.’

Jacob blinked, his luscious eyelashes sweeping across his beautiful chiselled cheeks. ‘And those other poor saps during the week. Did they have the same advance warning I did?’

Holly shrank back from the bitterness in Jacob’s tone and she knew she was doing the right thing, cutting off all further contact before it was too late. Before he made such a deep impression on her she could not simply theorise it away.

‘Goodbye, Jacob.’

Holly walked away, feeling Jacob’s slighted stare burning into her as she crossed the room. She latched onto the owner of the gallery and he kept her sequestered in his bawdy, noisy group until long after Jacob had grabbed his coat and left.




CHAPTER NINE


MONDAY morning Holly’s intercom buzzed.

‘Call on line three, Ms Denison.’ The receptionist’s fuzzy voice came through the speakerphone on her desk.

Holly looked apologetically at Lydia, who was standing on a chair in the middle of her office, her outstretched arms draped in several large swatches of fabric. ‘Do you mind hanging in there for a minute? I’ll be quick.’

Lydia strained dramatically under the weight. ‘Get it, Holly, I’m just fine up here.’

Holly grabbed the phone and swung back in her springy leather chair. ‘Holly Denison.’

‘Holly. It’s Jacob.’

Holly shot forward on her chair, her feet now both firmly planted on the ground. He needn’t have introduced himself. That rich, masculine voice with its gentle American twang set her nerves on edge from its very first syllable.

Lydia raised her eyebrows and mouthed, ‘Who is it?’

Holly shook her head, before pressing the phone firmly to her ear. After Friday night Holly had spent a restless weekend convincing herself turning him down was for the best.

But three little words were enough to have her doubting herself again. And if he was calling to ask her to dinner again, she did not know if she would have the strength to refuse.

‘Yes, Jacob?’

‘I have a party to organise and I want to employ your professional services for the event.’

She scribbled, Lincoln Holdings—party onto her notepad.

Lydia could see the notebook clearly from her elevated position and her jaw dropped. Holly waved a frantic hand at her mouthing for her to dump the fabric swatches over the back of the chair and disappear.

Lydia mouthed, ‘Good luck,’ before she tiptoed out.

So he had not called to renew his dinner offer. Holly was glad he was not there in person to see her blush. He had obviously taken her at her word on that count. But that was what she wanted. Wasn’t it?

Then it hit her what he had requested. Jacob Lincoln was offering Cloud Nine a gig. But she knew his idea of a party was very different from her own. She shuddered at the thought of having to search the local bars and pubs for a venue and putting up posters advertising a wet T-shirt contest with a free keg of beer being the first prize.

‘I am flattered that you thought of Cloud Nine for the event, Jacob, but I’m not sure we provide the sort of parties that would suit your tastes.’

Jacob surprised Holly by laughing loudly on the other end of the line. ‘Relax, Holly. I’m not after nude mud wrestlers. Besides, this is not for the company. It’s a private affair. My sister Ana wants an engagement party. Something much more along the lines of what you created for the big marquee would be appropriate.’

This sounded much more up her professional alley but Holly knew that the theme of the party was not what was really worrying her.

‘Well, I am extremely busy at the moment but I could pass you on to another of our wonderful event managers who specializes in exactly these sort of—’

‘Look, Holly—’ his voice seemed to lose all patience ‘—this is just the beginning of what I am proposing here. If I like what you do with this gig, I will be offering you the entire Lincoln Holdings event management account.’

Holly blinked. Slowly. If she had had the strength, she would have pinched herself.

‘The entire Lincoln Holdings account?’ she repeated.

‘Yes. We have been able to handle the workload internally until now but the company is leaping ahead internationally and the job is getting too big.’

Holly desperately tried to rein in her imagination, which was running riot with wild ideas.

‘What’s the catch?’ she asked, hoping there was a great big one so she would have a sane reason to refuse.

‘The catch is I don’t want anyone else in charge of my account. I want you.’

Be careful what you wish for, Holly, for you just might get it. Those words echoed through her head as she sat in stunned silence.

He was offering her an account that her firm, amongst dozens of others, had been wooing without success for years. There was no way she could seriously convince herself or anyone else that she should turn this opportunity down. She had to do this party and it had to be perfect.

She sighed aloud. ‘All right. I’ll do it.’

‘Don’t sound so eager, please.’ He laughed.

‘I am, don’t get me wrong. This is a huge opportunity. Though I can’t help but wonder why.’

‘Why not?’ Jacob asked.

‘Well, you’ve seen my work. And we both know I don’t have the same tastes as you.’ And we all but had a fight the other night. And I had thought I might not ever hear that divine voice of yours again.

Jacob laughed again and Holly grimaced, aware that she was fast finding the sound addictive.

‘You really know how to sell yourself, don’t you? I’m beginning to change my mind about the whole deal.’

Holly could not help but laugh as well. ‘Look, I will happily take on your sister’s engagement party and don’t get me wrong, I will knock your socks off, it will be that fabulous. But I have a counter proposal.’

‘Okay, let’s hear it.’

She took a deep breath and went for it. ‘I will deal with your sister alone for this party and when you give me the Lincoln Holdings account, which I am sure you will, I will deal with your promotions division, and not with you.’

‘Well, now, that was more like it,’ Jacob said, ‘I was not sure that you had that self-protective spirit in you.’

His voice had reached her a little softer and definitely sexier, which was not what Holly had been hoping to bring out in him. She had merely been establishing professional boundaries. Not something she had previously thought sexy, but with Jacob involved …

‘Thank you, I think,’ she said, her own voice huskily mirroring his own. She cleared her throat. ‘If you could pass on your sister’s number we can get started right away.’

Jacob gave her Ana’s contact details. ‘And whatever Ana wants, Ana gets. The result of my being away so long. I am trying to buy back her affection.’

Holly knew from the warmth of his voice that this statement could not be farther from the truth. And again she wondered what sort of woman could secure such staunch and palpable affection from this man.

‘So long as I don’t have to help Ana choose between bronze and pewter candleholders. I’ve been there and done that and it wasn’t pretty.’

‘Pewter,’ Holly answered without pause as she continued scribbling burgeoning ideas onto her notepad.

‘See, that’s just what she eventually chose. I think you two were made for each other.’

‘I think if you promised to stay for ever she would prefer that to a party any day.’

Where on earth had that come from? Holly clamped a hand to her mouth to stop any further recriminating rubbish from slipping out.

‘Would she now?’ His voice whispered down the phone line silky smooth. The insinuation in his question clear.

Holly rubbed her suddenly throbbing temples. ‘Ask her, Jacob,’ she said, pretending she had no idea what he had implied, ‘and see what she says.’

‘I am sure you are right,’ he said, his voice mercifully back to normal. ‘I guess I’ll wait to hear from Ana, then, to see how it’s all going.’

‘I would appreciate that. And Jacob?’

‘Yes, Holly.’

‘Thank you.’

‘Don’t thank me yet,’ he warned her before hanging up the phone.

Holly put the phone down more slowly. Lydia was peering through the glass door with a big expectant grin on her face. Holly waved her into the room.

‘So?’ Lydia asked, her eyes bright with excitement.

‘It may soon be safe to dummy up a press release saying we’ve landed the Lincoln Holdings account.’

‘Yippee!’ Lydia spun around in glee before slumping down on the chair she had been standing on earlier, the important swathes of fabric temporarily forgotten.

‘You had no plans day or night for the next few weeks, did you?’ Holly asked.

Lydia waved a ‘no worries’ hand. ‘The Klingon can wait.’

Holly thought it better not to ask. ‘The sooner we ready our other projects, the sooner we can reel in Jacob Lincoln.’

‘You mean Lincoln Holdings, don’t you?’

‘Of course I do.’ Holly swiftly changed the subject. ‘Now, up you get, back on the chair so we can sort out these fabrics before lunch.’

Lydia grumbled as she stood back up on the chair and stretched out her aching arms, ‘Sometimes I feel highly unappreciated.’

‘I can’t believe you just did that,’ Ben said from Jacob’s office doorway.

Jacob knew from Ben’s smug expression he had been listening for long enough. ‘Believe it, Benny boy. It’s become too big for me and I’ve been contemplating outsourcing for some time.’ For three whole days, in fact.

‘This is the first I had heard of it.’

‘This is the first you needed to hear of it. That’s why the company is my namesake and not yours.’

Ben sauntered into the room, and then lay back on a lounge chair against the far wall. He nonchalantly flipped through a magazine on Jacob’s coffee-table. ‘She didn’t go on any dates this weekend, you know. I had a couple of men lined up, including the new Accounts guy, Matt Riley, the one who tried chatting her up at the greyhound track. But she baulked.’

There is no reason why that should concern me, Jacob thought, then realised he had stopped breathing.

‘And young Matt’s quite the looker, I am told by the girls in Accounts,’ Ben continued. ‘Babeliscious I think was the most common turn of phrase. Modelled his way through college, you know? But … still she said no.’

Ben’s eyes left the magazine and zeroed in on Jacob, who hoped his face showed none of the curiosity he felt.

‘You wouldn’t happen to know why she has suddenly backed off, would you?’ Ben asked.

Jacob merely shook his head, uncertain what state his voice would be in considering his suddenly dry throat. Maybe she had given up the hunt and had decided to become a normal single woman, capable of organising her own social life. Now that would be an interesting turn of events.

Then Ben said, ‘Maybe she just needed to recharge her batteries. Ready herself for next week’s multitude of contenders.’

‘Maybe,’ Jacob conceded, thumping briskly back to earth.

‘Well, it’s been easier than I thought it would be. She really made an impression on the bunch at your welcome home thing at the track. Once word got around she was open to being set up, I’ve hardly had to do a thing.’

‘Lucky you.’

‘Yep. I’ve met all sorts of great guys this last week. I had to cancel one guy’s date but we got on so well I booked him in for a conciliatory lunchtime squash game.’

Jacob was determined not to give Ben the satisfaction of knowing that his comments were surprisingly hitting the mark. He was actually feeling pangs of something akin to jealousy.

‘Was there something else I could help you with?’

Ben looked to the ceiling for inspiration. ‘Nope.’

‘I can find work for you if you’re bored. I don’t think my blinds have been cleaned in the years I’ve been gone.’

Ben looked at his watch. ‘Sorry, Link. I’ll be late for squash with my new friend.’

He stood and ambled back to the door before looking back with an easy grin. ‘Just think, if Holly had not been run down by that oaf in the street the other week and been so turned off by him as to go on this husband hunt of hers, I would be eating lunch alone in my office right now. You’ve got to love the girl!’

‘Who’s an oaf?’ Jacob called out but Ben had already gone.

So, Holly had been turned off by the ‘oaf’ in the street, had she? Jacob fumed. He grabbed a stick of gum and chewed it furiously as he swung sharply back and forth in his office chair.

No wonder she had begged him not to tell Beth they had met before. Turned off! She had been practically undressing him with her eyes that first morning, he was certain of it. The little fraud. She deserved to be found out for twisting that incident to suit her.

Unless she really had found him repellent from their first meeting. Every time he had seen her since she had been edgy and had made it clear she would rather be anywhere than in his presence. And she had flung the ‘not her type’ line in his face with convincing vigour.

All the better for him if that was the end of it. No use wasting time struggling to bat down his growing attraction to the woman if he held no appeal for her in the first place.

And then he stopped, mid swing, his feet planted firmly on the carpeted floor, and his hands grabbed his desk as he realised what Ben had unwittingly revealed. The one detail that made all of the above possibilities irrelevant.

He was the reason behind Holly’s whole husband hunt.

‘That’s great Holly! What a coup,’ Beth said over the phone later that night. ‘And you’ll love Ana.’

‘Please tell me you can come.’

‘Of course. Unless the baby makes other plans we’ll be there with bells on.’

‘Bells will not be necessary. Evening wear will be fine.’

Holly sat on her bed in her shortie pyjamas and thick socks, assuming the lotus position. She held the cordless phone to her ear, and rocked her neck back and forth easing out the niggling Monday-itis tensions.

‘Ben tells me you cancelled on two of your hopefuls on the weekend.’

‘Hmm. I needed a break.’

‘Really? No other reason? No one take your fancy yet from the hundreds Ben has supplied?’

Holly heard the doubt in Beth’s voice loud and clear. ‘No one.’

‘Not even Jacob?’

‘Beth—’

‘Come on, Holly. If it weren’t for Ben I would grab the man with both hands and not let him go. He’s the catch to end all catches.’

‘You would not. He’s so not your type.’ ‘Then whose is he?’

Holly let that one slide. ‘And besides I feel like a movie star doing the talk show circuit. I need to come up with some new material before even I am bored with my funny stories.’ After one final stretch Holly flopped backwards, her arms and legs spread diagonally across the bed.

‘As long as this plan of yours has not fizzled out,’ Beth said.

‘I promise there has been no fizzling.’

‘Good, because I had already decided that my matron of honour dress was going to be bright red, backless and very sparkly. Besides I did up a current star chart and you are primed for a liaison in July. In fact you are so primed you are about to burst. Maybe tarots would help—’

‘No! I draw the line at tarot cards.’

Beth sighed. ‘Fine. What are you doing tonight? Watching TV?’

Alone? Holly felt the inference come through loud and clear. She glanced at the silent TV at the end of her bed. ‘If it weren’t for your Ben we would still be a pair of old spinsters who loved to do nothing more at night than watch Pride and Prejudice and eat home-made caramel popcorn.’

‘That was fun, though, wasn’t it?’

‘The most fun ever. But then Ben found you, and loved you and showed both of us how much better our nights couldbe.’

Holly sighed. She rolled over and scrunched herself into a warm little ball, with the phone cradled under her head. ‘I’ve seen Pride and Prejudice enough times for one woman. You don’t know how lucky you are, Beth. To have someone so decent and strong and dependable.’

Beth laughed. ‘You make Ben sound like a St Bernard!’

Better a St Bernard than a Rottweiler, she thought as images of Jacob Lincoln with his dark hair, clear sharp eyes and his overwhelming personality bombarded her subconscious.

‘Someone like Ben would drive you around the bend,’ Beth said.

‘Hardly—’

‘For example, he keeps his socks, underpants and hankies in the same dresser drawer. You have a separate drawer for each and organise them by colour and fabric with seasonal adjustments.’

‘How will I ever be able to look at Ben again without thinking about his underwear?’

‘Seriously, though, one day you will meet the man for you. A man who puts honey in everything he cooks. A man who will be happy to let you name your first-born son Maximus as you have always wanted, God help the poor child.’

‘I don’t see what is so wrong with the name Maximus. It’s a powerful and masculine name—’

‘Will you stop kidding around and listen to me?’

Duly chastised, Holly shut up and paid attention.

‘What I am saying is the perfect man for you is out there. But believe me he will be nothing like Ben. That’s nothing against my husband. You drive him around the bend just the same.’

‘Thanks.’

And Holly knew then that, though her friends would always be there with a shoulder to lean on, it would in all likelihood fall to her to find someone to love.




CHAPTER TEN


AT LUNCHTIME on Tuesday Holly escorted Lydia to the Lunar restaurant to meet Anabella for their first chat about her upcoming engagement party. Holly had spoken to Ana on the phone that morning and had found her bright and excited and was very much looking forward to meeting her.

Holly ordered her usual lemon, lime, and bitters with a touch of honey and Lydia ordered a pink lemonade spider with double whipped cream and chocolate topping.

Soon after Jacob Lincoln slid his impressive suit-clad frame onto the leather bench opposite her.

‘Jacob! What on earth are you doing here?’

Why? Why are you here? Holly screamed inside her head. Wasn’t I perfectly clear? Did you not promise to leave the party to me? Without interference? Without walking in here unheralded, smiling at me like that, like a naughty little boy who knows his mother would never yell at him as long as he flashed those adorable dimples.

Knowing she had been staring far too long, Holly glanced furtively at Lydia, and was glad to see she was being blithely ignored. In fact, as Lydia lowered her lipstick to her attaché case and smoothed her newly glossed lips together her wide eyes never left Jacob for a moment.

‘I beg you not to throw that drink in my face, Holly,’ Jacob said. He sent her an enigmatic smile, as though he knew something she didn’t. ‘New suit. And Anabella sends her apologies but she suddenly had to go out of town … for a week.’

Holly had to pull herself together. Lydia was now watching the two of them very carefully. ‘I spoke to her only this morning and she didn’t say a thing.’

Jacob shrugged. ‘As I said, it was sudden.’

‘And her fiancé? He was unable to come in her place?’

‘Well, he actually had to suddenly go out of town as well. With Anabella. Skiing in New Zealand.’

‘I see,’ she said, desperately seeking a way to take control of the situation. ‘So why didn’t she just cancel our meeting until she comes back?’

‘She wants the party booked for Saturday week but won’t be back in Melbourne until midday on the day before. She gave me these notes and said to follow them as a guide, but she would be happy with whatever you come up with.’

He reached over the table with a few loose sheets of pink writing paper covered with loopy handwriting. Lydia’s hand slid across the table and snapped them up.

‘I have a week and a half to organise a party for … how many people?’ Holly asked.

Lydia, who was poring over the pink pages, said, ‘Three hundred.’

‘Three hundred people?’

‘Of course it’s people, though it doesn’t specifically say people in the notes—’

‘Lydia!’

‘We can do it easily, Holly,’ Lydia said. ‘Remember the Newman do? We did that in just over a week and it was fab.’

Holly glared at Lydia, who just shrugged. ‘What did I say? It’s true.’

Holly sensed Jacob watching them, his head swaying back and forth as though watching a tennis match.

‘Look, if you think you need help or if I should get someone else to do it—’ he said.

Holly placed her hands steadily on the table in front of her. ‘No, we will be fine.’

The waiter arrived and asked if they were ready to order lunch. Jacob raised his eyebrows at Holly and his look said it all. He had laid his cards on the table; he had changed the rules and made no promises he would not do so again. So much for professional boundaries.

But now it was her move. Order the meal or don’t order the meal. Take the deal or don’t take the deal. It was decision time and it was up to her.

So Holly ordered.

Soup of the day with a side salad. It would be served quickly and could be eaten quickly. Besides, the way her stomach was reacting she probably would not keep anything heavier down.

Jacob ordered appetisers and eye fillet steak. Well done. ‘Cook it till it’s unrecognisable,’ he said, ‘then flip it and cook it some more.’

‘You should eat it rare. It’s much better for you.’ Holly nodded frantically at the waiter, willing him to change the order. Jacob shot her that peculiar enigmatic smile again and she shut up.

Lydia took a long, luxurious sip of her drink, the liquid gurgling loudly as it reached the bottom of the glass, then ordered a slice of apple pie with ice cream. ‘The sugar stimulates me,’ she explained.

Jacob laughed aloud and the young male waiter had to stifle a cough as he left.

‘So how have you been, Lydia?’ Jacob asked.

‘Fabulous, Jacob. And you?’

‘Fabulous.’ His urbane voice gave the casual word a whole different feel. Long, drawn out, smooth. Holly took a large gulp of her drink.

‘If you two are finished,’ Holly said, ‘let’s talk about the party.’ She stopped as Jacob held up his hands, his face contorted with mock apprehension.

‘You promised me I wouldn’t have to choose between pewter and bronze.’

‘But—’

‘No buts. Follow the notes if you must, but as I said on the phone you guys have carte blanche.’

It sounded perfect in theory, but Holly knew there was no way of pleasing a client without substantial input. One person’s pewter was another person’s bronze.

Obviously sensing the same looming disaster, Lydia whipped out the contract and gave it to Jacob. ‘If you could just look this over, fill in your details and the party date, sign away and we have a deal.’

Jacob did as he was told, then Holly signed alongside his name. Lydia clapped her hands together excitedly as she took the signed contract and placed it carefully in her pink attaché case.

‘Carte blanche,’ Lydia cooed. ‘My two favourite words in the whole English language.’

Jacob laughed aloud again. And Holly felt her skin resonating in response to the infectious sound.

‘So, Jacob,’ Lydia said, ‘since we can’t talk shop, tell me why you had to stop Holly from throwing her drink over you? ‘

His eyes crinkled. ‘Well, I just knew that she was expecting my sister and didn’t want her to freak out.’

‘Holly, freak out?’ Lydia scoffed. ‘She’s the coolest cucumber you could ever hope to meet.’

‘Do tell.’

‘Sure. I mean, take yesterday lunchtime; these expatriate English people who were having a British-Australian dinner. We’d spent three full days with the client finalising the seating arrangements. We had even printed up these lovely table number cards. Weren’t they lovely, Holly?’

‘They were lovely, Lydia,’ Holly agreed, flicking a quick apologetic smile to Jacob, who winked briefly before turning his rapt attention back to Lydia. Holly’s skin tingled as though that wink had crossed the table and brushed along her cheek. She crept a stealthy hand from her lap to her face and rubbed at the wayward spot.

‘Anyway,’ Lydia continued, ‘at the last minute the client realised that Joe was at table number three and Eunice was at table number four. They were both in the front row, both within spitting distance of the speaker, but Joe was sitting at a higher table number than Eunice. And this was cataclysmic. The client was ready to cancel the whole thing. In stepped Miss Cool Bananas here and said, Let’s just rename the tables; not numbers, not letters, but names of small English towns. The client hyperventilated her agreement. There went our Holly into her “magic” briefcase and found enough fancy paper and a black magic marker to rename every table. And within minutes of everyone’s arrival the whole room was in tears as they blabbed about the small English towns they all knew and loved and missed. Even Joe and Eunice were hugging each other and bawling their eyes out.’

Lydia took a deep breath and slumped back in her chair. ‘Jacob, can you look around the corner and see if my apple pie is coming? I’m starved!’

It took a moment for Jacob to latch onto Lydia’s sudden change of topic. He peeked. ‘Not just yet.’

‘Good. Holly, could you shove over for a sec? I have to take a pee before my pie comes.’

Holly obligingly moved out of her seat so Lydia could shuffle past. ‘Thanks, gorgeous.’ She flounced past Holly and skipped towards the ladies’ room.

Holly slid back down into her seat, slowly and deliberately, already marking the seconds until Lydia’s return.

‘Isn’t she exhausting?’ Jacob said.

Talk about Lydia. Excellent. Safe ground.

‘She’s enthusiastic and imaginative and the clients love her. I’ll probably end up working for her one day.’

After a moment’s pause, during which time his mind seemed to be ticking over, Jacob asked, ‘She called you “gorgeous”. Ben and Beth both refer to you in that way as well. Do you just get that particular compliment a lot?’

‘Hardly.’

Hardly a professional topic of conversation. Explain then change the subject.

‘My dad called me that since I was little. And then one day when I first met Ben he called out “Hey, gorgeous” to Beth and I answered without even thinking. And he and Beth have called me that ever since. The guys at work heard Ben call me that at the Christmas party a couple of years ago and never let it go. I barely notice it any more.’

Jacob smiled. ‘It suits you.’

‘Please,’ she scoffed, looking over her shoulder to check if Lydia was on her way back.

After another pregnant pause, Jacob thankfully changed the subject. ‘Did you really do all those things she said? Yesterday lunchtime?’

‘In a manner of speaking. Though she makes it seem much more exhilarating than it really was. It was a fairly simple fix and we’ve had worse problems closer to the final hour.’

‘There you go, selling yourself short again.’

‘Fine.’ She laughed. ‘I was brilliant. I saved the day.’

‘That’s better.’

‘But it’s my job to fix those things, to smooth the way and make the events seem effortless whilst the client sits back and takes the honour.’

Watch and learn, buddy. This party of Ana’s will blow your mind.

Jacob sat back and crossed his arms, mirroring her stance. ‘Do you see yourself branching out with your own firm?’

‘I love what I do and if I was the owner I wouldn’t be able to do it. I’d have to concentrate on finances and payroll and other such icky things. I’m happy to play with other people’s money.’

‘And this way you could more easily take time off if you needed it.’

‘I guess.’ She wondered why he would focus on that aspect. ‘But it would be decidedly more difficult to make the house payments if I was skipping off on cruises year round.’

‘You own a house?’ His eyes softened as he asked.

‘It will be a few years yet before I can claim that distinction from the bank.’

‘I see. But, if your circumstances changed, you could stop working altogether,’ Jacob added, his hazel eyes now boring into hers.

‘I guess I could.’

If I pick the right lottery numbers, or find a suitcase of money buried in my backyard.

And then it dawned on her. He was thinking that what she wanted most in a job was the flexibility to marry and have children as soon as possible.

How wrong he was! Or was he?

If she followed her plan through to its logical conclusion, wouldn’t that mean a wedding, a honeymoon, and some day children? Holly felt a comforting blush creep over her as these ideas filtered through and meshed with her original plan just to find someone nice and compatible to spend her time with. She loved her job but the thought of a full life with a real family was intoxicating.

But hang on. This was not Beth having an innocent chat, and not a prospective husband seeing where her priorities lay. This was the man who, if she played her cards right, would be going a long way to funding her pay cheques.

But would he seriously reconsider handing over the Lincoln Holdings account to her if she was planning to start a family? If so, he was completely outside his rights.

But, closer to home, would she seriously consider starting a family if it meant losing the Lincoln Holdings account, which epitomised all she had ever wanted from her career, something she had been striving for long before the notion of a husband hunt had presented itself.

But before she could open her mouth to contradict him, or berate him, or promise to give up the hunt as long as he gave her the contract, the waiter arrived with their lunch, quickly followed by Lydia.

‘Did you miss me?’ Lydia asked as she climbed over Holly’s lap and plopped into her own seat.

‘More than life itself,’ Jacob promised, shooting one final unreadable glance at Holly before tucking into his appetizer.

Her mind reeling, Holly could do little more than pick up her spoon and eat her soup.

Jacob stood outside Lunar and watched as Holly’s chauffeured car drove away, the icy wind whipping through his lightweight suit barely registered.

‘Holly. Holly. Holly,’ he whispered aloud, ‘what is spinning though that labyrinthine mind of yours?’ Holly’s uneasy expression as she’d slipped into the back of the car was branded on his mind.

He reached into his inner jacket pocket and grabbed a stick of gum. He threw it into his mouth and chewed furiously and began to walk the five blocks back to the office.

The day had not gone exactly as he had hoped.

When he’d known he would be taking the lunch in Ana’s place, he had imagined Holly would be glad to see him, keen to thank him in person for the incredible opportunity he had given her. After an hour spent flirting over lunch, he would then help her into a cab, her hand resting for a few extra moments in his, tears in her eyes, thanking her lucky stars she had met him and for him having bestowed such an opportunity on her.

Admittedly, that had been a little optimistic. But from the panic in her expression he had even worried that she was planning on reneging on the whole deal. That was the last thing he wanted. He had become used to the idea of her running a part of his show.

So what was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she be thrilled with what he was offering her? For the first time in ten years, he was contemplating handing over the public face of his company. Didn’t she understand that? Understand the incredible chance he had taken?

For her?

As he’d watched her reactions with a studied eye at lunch she had fidgeted, blushed, and avoided direct eye contact. He knew he definitely did not repulse her as she had apparently claimed to Ben. Nevertheless, whatever she had felt that morning on the street had caused a strong reaction in her, and she’d created her husband hunt as a wall, an excuse not to face those feelings.

Since he’d unwittingly slung her into her current predicament, maybe he was the only one who could release her. He was simply unable to give her what she wanted most. But he could supply the next best thing—the job she had always dreamed of.

A car beeped its horn as Jacob stepped out onto the road. The street sign read ‘Don’t Walk’. But he needed to walk. He waited only a second for the car to pass, then jogged across to the other side and resumed his march, more determined than ever to find a way to make the obtuse woman appreciate that he was doing as much as he could for her.

‘Come on, gorgeous. Spill the beans.’ Lydia was sitting sideways in the back seat of the car, her seat belt stretched across her angled frame.

‘About what?’

‘About that whole weird and wonderful lunch, that’s what. I was all ready to impress the socks off the sister in case you were still on audition or something and then in he comes in his three piece suit, and onyx cuff-links, all sophisticated and debonair and … I have stop for a moment and just say, yummy …’

Lydia paused to let this new assertion resonate for a moment until she seemed happy that her point had been made.

‘To paraphrase, in comes the supreme Mr Lincoln. Then he sits across from you and he changes; he sort of melts as the look he gives you is all adorable and schmaltzy, like he’d prefer to be sitting on your side of the table just so he can look at you up close and personal.’

‘Please!’ Holly interjected, her cheeks fast burning up.

‘I was there. I saw. And I also see you aren’t wearing your lucky suit.’

‘My what?’

‘Whenever we meet with a new client you wear the charcoal trouser suit with the white sleeveless shirt with the plunging neckline and the sexy frill. But not today. Today you’re suddenly going out of routine and wearing this dreamy new number.’

Lydia motioned to Holly’s impeccable cream calf-length, fitted, square-necked dress.

‘It is neither dreamy nor new,’ Holly replied truthfully, but she knew that she had taken a great deal of care choosing what to wear to the lunch. ‘And I did not know he was going to even be there today.’

‘But you were going to meet his sister. And who would you more need to make a good first impression on than the sister? It all fits. The goo-goo eyes you two kept shooting at each other were so telling. So spill!’

‘He attended my Hidden Valley day as well as the Arty Pants evening, liked them, then offered me the job.’ Close enough anyway. ‘He’s a client, that’s it.’

‘Not if the divine Mr Lincoln has anything to say in the matter. You’ve got him hooked. Reel him in and be done withit.’

Lydia was such a dreamer, looking for romance in every chance encounter any time of the day or night. She simply had no idea what sort of person Jacob Lincoln was. She had not been there the other night to see the colour drain from his face at the thought of marriage. Goo-goo eyes or no goo-goo eyes, he was a hopeless case. No strings. No complications. No way.




CHAPTER ELEVEN


HOLLY spent Wednesday at the press junket for a new opera, which would be hitting town in the coming Spring. Thursday she managed the dressing of a debutante ball venue, which she then attended that same night. Alone. Stag. Sans date.

What with the party looming, she told Ben, she really did not have time to concentrate on her personal project. In a couple of weeks she would be back on track, but for now all dates were suspended. Suspended indefinitely if that meant landing the Lincoln Holdings account? Perhaps. She hadn’t yet given herself the luxury of making that decision.

So in between more imminent projects Holly and Lydia had prepared a detailed preliminary plan for Anabella’s party, and they knew it was going to be the best shindig they had ever thrown. But in order for this to be the best shindig they had ever thrown, the client had to be one hundred percent behind them and she knew she could not go any further without that surety. So last thing Friday afternoon Holly called Jacob.

‘Holly! I’m surprised to hear from you—pleasantly surprised, of course.’ His voice was loud and muffled as he was obviously talking on his car phone. ‘What can I do for you?’

‘The thing is I really do feel that I should show you our initial plans for the party. You know Anabella, and all I know is she likes pink paper. It’ll only take a few minutes, I promise.’

‘Sure. How about tonight?’

Holly looked at her watch. But she had no set plans and knew she should really strike before he changed his mind. ‘Great.’

‘Will Lydia be tagging along or will it be just you?’

‘Just me, I’m afraid. Lydia’s off to try out some new dance club in the city. The stamina of that girl constantly amazes me.’

‘Then how about my place? I’m on my way there now.’ She could hear the smile in his voice and it took all of her concentration not to picture him doing so.

‘No, I don’t think—’

‘Why not? I’ll cook. It’s my turn.’

‘There’s no need for that. It will only take a minute.’ Holly bit her thumbnail. ‘Where do you live?’

‘Port Melbourne.’ He gave the address. On the water’s edge and only a few minutes drive from work. She looked around her office. Fabric samples, menus and brochures swamped every spare surface. Quick decision, to stay late on a Friday night and clean up a week’s worth of mess or—?

‘Okay. How about I pop around in about half an hour? But please don’t cook. I’ll be out of your hair in time for the evening news, I promise.’

‘I’ll see you in half an hour, then,’ was Jacob’s only guarantee.

‘Well, there you go,’ Jacob said aloud as he hung up.

The excitement in Holly’s voice when talking of the party had been palpable. He had wanted to give her something to focus on other than her unreasonable husband hunt and it seemed this party had done the trick.

But why invite her over to your place? How does that help? Having her alone, at night, in your home, your private sanctuary?

No worries. It would be fine. This night would simply be the passing of the torch to their new professional relationship. And once that was established, they would be on stable ground. She would be happy professionally and he would be free and clear of any obligation he might have felt considering his part in her quest.

Okay, if it’s a business meeting we should have an agenda. Much easier to stay in control of the situation if it’s mapped out beforehand. First let her get comfortable with you as a business associate, second go over her presentation, and third send her home with the energy and high spirits to complete the project satisfactorily.

If dinner is involved, that’s fine too. And maybe a bottle of wine. It will be business, not personal. All to ease the transition, of course.

He put his car in gear and barely kept under the speed limit all the way home.

Holly hurried into her office bathroom to grab a glass of water and caught sight of herself in the floor-length mirror. She was wearing her ‘lucky suit’, as Lydia called it, and was glad Lydia was not there to ask if it meant she was feeling lucky. And Beth would have a conniption fit at such a time, professing all sorts of fortuitous signs from her choosing that outfit on that day.

‘It’s nice and it’s comfortable,’ Holly said aloud to her reflection. ‘Besides, tonight is just a presentation like you have done a hundred times before. Choosing to wear a particular outfit hardly portents anything out of the ordinary.’

She smoothed down the neat charcoal pinstripe trouser suit, and soft white sleeveless shirt with its plunging neckline. She ran her fingers through her hair, which for once she was wearing long and loose.

Blissfully ignoring her messy office, she popped the presentation in her ‘magic’ briefcase, hoping the information inside would work its magic that night, and headed out.

Walking along Lonsdale Street to where her car was parked, she passed the spot where she had first run into Jacob. A flash of intense eyes, mussed hair, hordes of luggage.

She had told Lydia that she had been head down, thinking of work that morning. But the truth was she had seen him exit his hotel. She had watched him, arms full of luggage, chill wind whipping his hair about his face, beckoning the hotel doorman to remain inside, insisting he stay out of the cold.

He had been so handsome, huffing and puffing in exertion as he had navigated his way, unassisted, to the kerb. And she had been smitten.

Holly slowed as she passed the hotel, the memory of him dragging his tired eyes from the bustling traffic to glance in her direction sending a delightful shiver along her spine.

He had not let go of his cumbersome cases, or stopped heading to the edge of the road, but from that moment he had only had eyes for her. And that look, both exhausted and vibrant, along with its accompanying hint of a smile, had almost frozen her to the spot. Only the biting cold and primal need to get inside to warmth had kept her legs moving. He’d watched her with such unconcealed interest, though her extremities had frozen, her insides had melted. Her pulse had quickened, and she’d barely been able to focus from the blood pumping so hard and fast through her head.

She’d had no choice; she’d had to pass him to get to her office, the front door of which had been barely a block behind him. She had walked on, unsteady but determined, her knees shaking as she’d walked closer and closer, her breathing ragged, unable to drag her eyes away from the stranger in her sights. Then—

Bam!

How they had come to collide, she had no idea. They had both been walking towards one another, eyes locked, and in those last few seconds should have tacitly agreed to walk to one side, allowing the other to pass. But somewhere during those last few seconds, neither had been able to do as politeness dictated.

Mightily embarrassed at having found herself sprawled at his feet, and at the fact that she had been devouring him with her eyes only moments before, she had lashed out, and the exquisite spell that had woven its way around her heart had been shattered.

Having passed the hotel and rounded the corner, Holly shook off the disturbing memory. It was not at all productive thinking about it, not for their business relationship, nor if she had any serious hope of eventually finding someone else, someone compatible to spend her life with. No point daydreaming about someone so unsuitable and unattainable.

It was time she heeded her own advice to Jacob, and pretended it never happened.

Twenty minutes later Holly stood outside a large five-storey apartment building in Port Melbourne. She pressed the intercom button for the penthouse, no less.

The street was bustling with young people rugged up in overcoats on their way to pubs and popular restaurants along the water’s edge. A fair way down a long jetty, the cruise ship the Spirit of Tasmania waited silently to take her human cargo on her nightly trek across Bass Strait.

After about a minute, Jacob’s voice answered, ‘Holly?’

‘Yep.’ Her teeth chattered from standing in the biting cold.

‘Come on up.’

The door buzzed and Holly scampered inside, thankful to be warmed by central heating once more.

She approached the security guard at the desk and he checked her name against a list before pointing the way to the lifts.

As she rode the lift to the top floor Holly prepared herself for a glimpse into Jacob’s private world. If a man’s home was his refuge, she craved to see what Jacob’s home would divulge. Floor five lit up and the doors opened. The sweet fragrance of soy sauce and honey and tremulous strains of jazz music wafted into her cubicle.

Holly had thought her own home attractive and quite substantial, but this was something else. Jacob’s home was neither stark and intimidating, nor overtly manly. Instead, with its open-plan, blonde polished wood floors, strategic ambient lighting and elegant neutral furniture it was tasteful and welcoming.

A stainless steel kitchen took up the right side of the huge room. A three-piece lounge suite filled the left side facing a fireplace, above which two oversized abstract prints of American jazz singers held pride of place. A shiny golden trumpet was the only item adorning the mantel.

On a raised platform at the far end sat the dining suite. The entire far wall was comprised of ceiling-to-floor tinted windows. The multicoloured twinkling lights of the city skyline and the glow of the fast-setting sun shone through the extra-thick smoky-grey glass producing a mercurial spectacular view.

She called out, ‘Hello? Anyone home?’

Jacob poked his head out of a hidden doorway on the far side of the kitchen. ‘Grab a drink from the bar in the kitchen. I’ll be with you in a sec.’

His head disappeared again.

On the kitchen bench Holly found Jacob’s tray of spirits lined up with a crystal decanter and crystal glasses. Ignoring the offer, she discarded her briefcase on the floor next to the bench and did a turn about the room.

She ran her hand across the back of the soft cream lounge, scanned the titles of the numerous books lining the long hip-high bookshelves that separated the dining room from the lounge. She walked up the three steps to the raised level and marvelled at the city lights reflecting off the glass-topped dining table. She could feel the cool of the coming night radiating through the thick glass of the window. She moved to stand so close her breath formed on the window.

‘You like?’

Holly turned with her hand at her heart as Jacob’s soft voice scared her out of her reverie. She had not even heard him come up behind her.

He handed her a glass of red wine and she took a quick sip. Peeking over the top of her wineglass, she noticed his hair was still damp as evidenced by the smooth comb lines running through it. And even through the intoxicating aroma of the heavy red wine she could smell mint. Toothpaste? Then she remembered seeing a few faint shiny patches on the floor on her way in. It suddenly registered that the patches were in fact wet footprints and that she must have caught him in the shower.

She turned back towards the window, hoping he had not noticed her blush. ‘How could anyone not like it? Your apartment is lovely, Jacob. And the view is breathtaking.’ She swept a hand in front of her, encompassing the entire panorama.

‘This was the first residential property I bought,’ Jacob said.

‘You own the building?’ Holly asked, spinning back to face him, her intrigue overcoming her embarrassment. Marble floors, a security guard, city views. Phew.

‘I did. I financed its refurbishment several years ago and then sold it off piece by piece, keeping the best apartment for myself. Admittedly I made no money on the deal, I came out even for the first, and hopefully last, time, but I think the sacrifice was worth it.’

‘Indeed.’

‘Every time I come back it makes me wonder why I ever chose to leave.’

Holly took another sip of the delicious wine, entranced by the city lights reflected in Jacob’s eyes and unable to swallow down an unreasonable hope that he would never leave again. As though sensing the acute emotion she could not contain, Jacob took a small step forward, bringing them to within a foot of each other.

She felt a torrid tingling sensation well up in her feet as all of the blood seemed to have ventured further north.

The cool perfumes of mint and now shampoo fought for her attention. With them came jumbled scented memories of fresh rain.

She watched Jacob’s hand leave his glass and slowly, slowly ease its way towards her. Her breath caught in her throat. Her hands felt slippery and warm as she clutched the glass to her chest.

Her eyes closed, too heavy with expectation to remain open any longer, and she waited, unable and unwilling to prevent whatever was about to happen.




CHAPTER TWELVE


AND then the music stopped. The jazz CD had finished. With a slight cough Jacob stepped that same small step back to his original position.

This movement snapped Holly out of her trance and after blinking rapidly several times she too moved, willing her numb legs to step smartly around him and down the steps towards the kitchen.

‘I have the presentation in my bag,’ she prattled as she moved further and further from the window, and from Jacob, her heels clacking on the polished wood floor, the noise comfortingly louder than the beating of her heart. ‘Maybe we should sit on the couch and I’ll go through it with you quickly so I can get out of your hair.’

She placed the half-empty glass on the kitchen bench and reached down to grab her briefcase.

Jacob had moved down to the bookshelves and was restarting the CD in the discreetly concealed stereo. As the soft strains of the mellow song wafted from numerous hidden speakers around the apartment Jacob turned to face her.

Holly stood, rooted to the spot. The moment was upon her. This was what she had so keenly wished to see. The man in his environment.

The reality was a man a couple of inches over six feet, with thick springy dark hair, rich hazel eyes frayed by long, dark lashes. A man whose slightly crooked smile could turn her knees to butter and whose occasional dimples made her lose her focus and resolve every time they surfaced. A man wearing velvety soft chocolate-brown trousers, a lightweight sweater, which emphasized the width of his shoulders and the well-developed muscles beneath, a silver and gold two-tone sports watch, no rings or other jewellery. A man content to spend a Friday night at home on a comfortable couch, sipping on a good red wine and listening to lazy jazz music.

Jacob walked towards her and she saw that he was also a man wearing no shoes. So that’s how he crept up on me so quietly, Holly thought as her eyes snapped back up to his. The cheeky look in his eyes dared her to accuse him of anything.

As he approached her she stood her ground, her briefcase held like armour in front of her. Once at her side he leaned towards her. Her breath caught in her throat and she could not move. Then at the last second his hand reached out, grabbing her red wine glass from the kitchen bench top. Then just as casually he turned and strolled towards the lounge. He had not come within a foot of her yet she was shaking from his proximity.

‘Are you coming?’ he called over his shoulder.

Holly released the deep breath she had been holding, gathered her wits then walked over to join him. He had lounged on one of the long four-seater couches in his usual idle manner and she joined him there, though far enough away that their knees had no chance of touching.

‘What important details have you got to show me?’ Jacob asked, amusement lacing every word.

Holly glared at him. ‘You may not think this meeting will be valuable, but if it means that Anabella’s party is the better for it then why object?’

Rather than be offended, he looked at her with respect, as he always seemed to when she stood up to him. ‘Go ahead, then. Though I must say I never once said your coming here would prove invaluable.’

‘Yes, well, good, then,’ she stammered as she collected her thoughts. But once she clapped eyes back on her party notes, her confidence returned. This she could do in her sleep.

She went through every detail regarding venue, catering and décor, leaving not a single suggestion out. She finished her presentation with the fact she had chosen a luxurious banquet hall owned by Lincoln Holdings, as she already knew he preferred to use his own establishments for his events. When Jacob did not respond she looked up to find his eyes spectacularly crossed.

‘What was that for?’

He uncrossed his eyes and grinned. ‘First things first, Holly—you do realise that I am a man?’

She had not met a man more obviously masculine. ‘For the sake of argument, yes.’

‘Well, then, you must understand that I find words such as “georgette” and “decoupage” mind-boggling.’

Holly went to interrupt but Jacob held a finger to her lips, shutting her up quick smart.

‘Believe me, I am not diminishing what you do, I hired you because I admit you can do it better. If you came here for my approval, then you have it. Book everything. Hire everybody. Just go right ahead. But first things first, stay right where you are.’

He quickly pulled his finger from her mouth, kissed it and placed it back on her lips before bounding out of the chair and jogging into the kitchen.

‘Now, I have to give this a quick stir and add the veggies for half a second and then I will be able to blind you with my culinary talents.’

‘Oh, no,’ Holly said, shoving her bits and pieces quickly into her briefcase, fighting the urge to vigorously rub away the warm impression his finger had left on her lips. ‘I thought I made it clear I wasn’t staying for dinner.’

As she passed by the kitchen her nostrils were filled with that same delicious soy and honey aroma she had smelled earlier. Her stomach grumbled and she placed her hand over it to quell the noise, hoping Jacob had not heard.

‘Do you have dinner plans already?’ he asked. Another hot date with a potential husband, was left unsaid, but it echoed clearly enough in the air between them.

Holly opened her mouth to answer and in the moment during which she should have come up with a believable lie, she wavered, picturing her dark, empty apartment and the leftover tuna casserole she was planning to reheat.

Still she was about to decline when she caught the look on Jacob’s face. Though he was acting cool, aloof, indifferent, he was obviously sweating on her answer. His lips had thinned, pressed together too tightly, he was stirring the dinner ingredients more vigorously than seemed necessary and he kept shooting her short, accusatory sideways glances. If she hadn’t known him better she would have thought him jealous.

After several moments of telling silence, Jacob’s shoulders relaxed, his thinned lips softened into his usual crooked, beguiling smile and she knew he had caught her hesitation loud and clear.

‘Good,’ he said. ‘So stay.’ He added the vegetables to the mix with a deft hand.

He seemed so relaxed. As if he had flipped a lever and they had gone from God knew what to business associates in the blink of an eye. Maybe he could turn his nature on and off like that but Holly was not so fortunate.

‘Don’t you find this in the least bit uncomfortable?’

‘What’s that?’

‘That you know about my future plans and desires. I find it uncomfortable enough to face you as a friend of a friend, much less as a prospective client.’

That earned her another of his unreadable glances. ‘I understand what you think you mean,’ he said, ‘but I just don’t believe you.’

‘Excuse me?’

He paused, stopped stirring and stared. ‘The truth is I like you, Holly.’

Holly gripped her briefcase tight, clinging to it, feeling as though if she let go it would rise to the ceiling like a dozen helium balloons and take her with it.

He paused a moment to taste the stir-fry and, obviously finding it satisfactory, he finished his thoughts.

‘My closest friends are your closest friends. My business and your business will be of great benefit to each other. So what if I know that your current goal is hooking a husband and I am still willing to have you over to my place on a dinner date? Maybe one thing does not have to exclude the other.’

Holly’s knees all but buckled beneath her.

So much for his agenda. So much for it’s business not personal. Who was he kidding?

She was one big spanner in the works of any agenda he could ever hope to follow. Standing there, her glorious hair spilling over her shoulders, her huge eyes pleading for him to put her out of her misery, one way or the other. It was all he could do not to just haul her off to his bedroom like some caveman and show her exactly how uncomfortable she made him feel. He didn’t know what they were. But they were no more ‘friends of friends’ than they were business associates.

He should change his mind. Thank her for her thorough presentation and send her home. But the words that came out of his mouth were, ‘It’s not complicated. Let’s stop avoiding each other when we could be having so much more fun enjoying each other. At least until the thing you most wish for becomes more imminent anyway.’

There. Now how’s that for a spanner in the works?

Jacob wiped his hands on a clean teatowel, poured two new glasses of wine and grabbed two rolled-up napkins from the kitchen bench. He passed her on his way to the dining table, the determined look in his eyes daring her to disagree with his perfectly sensible proposal.

What thing? Holly wondered, the idea of she and Jacob ‘enjoying each other’ pretty much blotting out the rest of his speech.

Oh, a husband. A partner. Someone to love you. Someone like Jacob.

And like a bolt of lightning it hit her. Right in the stomach. Like a sucker punch. And she was lucky not to have collapsed under its weight.

Talk about complicating things. She was head over heels for Jacob.

Ever since she had seen him dragging his heavy luggage along the footpath, she had been lost. She had been filled with a longing, which she had mistakenly tried to shoulder onto someone else, anyone else, other than the one who had produced it in the first place. She knew without any doubt her husband hunt had been over from the moment it began.

He lay the glasses on the table, unrolled the linen napkins, which contained two sets of cutlery, and shifted a small vase of wildflowers so they would not hamper their view of one another across the table. Every move appeared to her in slow motion.

It cannot possibly be love, she thought. I barely know him. But you can know someone for ever and not love them, so why can’t the opposite be possible? And the unremitting feeling of weightlessness since he’d admitted to merely liking her was like nothing she had ever felt before.

But he’s not the marrying kind and has said as much from day one.

Remember?

And the whole perfect-husband theory meant you were not to fall for a guy like him. A guy who was self-important, shallow and self-serving.

Remember?

But she could not remember how she could ever have thought those things about Jacob. The man whistling melodiously along with the lovely music was confident, to be sure. But more than that he was protective and generous, kind and considerate. He was also barefoot and cooking up a storm. For her.

The stir-fry sizzled enthusiastically and Jacob jogged back to the kitchen and turned off the stove. He grabbed two dinner plates, onto which he heaped generous portions of the delicious-looking dinner.

‘No more excuses, okay,’ Jacob said.

Holly did her best to compose her features to appear the same as she had looked before her alarming revelation.

‘I have cooked enough of this lip-smacking dinner for the both of us. You have no other dinner plans. You are here already. You are able-bodied enough to grab the bottle of wine and bring it to the table. Put down that heavy briefcase and come give me a hand.’

Okay, Holly thought, knowing something had switched inside of her and she was going to have a hell of a time switching back. Whatever you say.




CHAPTER THIRTEEN


HOLLY finished off the last morsel on her plate. She had long since discarded her suit jacket. But even in just her filmy frilly top, in the fire-lit room she was warm and cosy.

‘That was heavenly,’ Holly said, patting the napkin to the sides of her mouth and then placing it on the table.

‘Hmm. Heavenly,’ Jacob agreed.

Watching Jacob sitting back, his hands clasped across his stomach, a contented smile lighting his lovely face, it was too easy for Holly to let herself believe he was thinking the same thing she was. That it was heavenly enough just to be sitting there together.

‘Where did you learn to cook like that?’

Jacob reached for his wine. His eyes seemed to narrow briefly as he took a determined gulp, but after swallowing the mouthful he answered her. ‘I moved out of home when I was sixteen so if I wanted to eat more than tinned soup and toast I had to learn how to cook.’

‘Sixteen, really? Were you young and rash and ready to take on the world?’

‘It was more that I was determined to become somebody, to make money and keep it, and to never want for anything.’

‘My biggest ambition at that age was to drive my dad crazy by running off to marry Toby Cox, the cutest boy in my class.’

‘I guess some things never change.’

Holly blushed. As the corners of Jacob’s mouth twitched in the hint of a smile she had a glimpse of the dimples, and it was worth every trace of embarrassment.

‘Did your drive come from your parents, do you think?’ she asked. ‘They usually provoke fairly strong responses from kids of that age.’

‘My strong response was that I did not want to end up like them. Well, not like my father, to be more precise.’

‘Tell me more.’ Tell me everything. Holly leaned forward with her chin on her palm, intrigued, and waited until he was ready to go on.

‘By the time I was a teenager, more of his money was going on surreptitious boozing than paying the bills. Once I caught my poor mother searching Dad’s jacket pockets for loose change in order to pay the milkman. And when she died, he barely left the house, and then only to head down to the local pub. So the day after my sixteenth birthday I left.’

‘I had no idea, Jacob. I didn’t mean to pry—’

‘It’s okay. I’ve never hidden my modest beginnings. In fact, it has been fairly well documented. “Poor boy makes good” is always a better headline than “Rich kid is still rich”.’

Holly glanced at Jacob’s half drunk glass of wine. ‘Was he an alcoholic?’

Jacob smiled ruefully at his glass, gently swirling the contents.

‘Possibly. Though I have always thought him more weak-willed than having an addictive personality. Being drunk was an excuse not to make a decision.’

‘And you have based your life around not being like that?’

‘Absolutely. It was the perfect example of failing to take life by the horns. I find no point in being tied down in one project. Take the risk, reap the rewards, and move on to the next venture.’

He sounded so earnest. But to Holly it felt as if he had said this same speech a thousand times in his head. And it broke her heart. She had known a man who had lived by that maxim and all it had done was hurt those who loved him most.

‘And Anabella?’ Holly asked, her voice soft. ‘She’s younger than you?’

Jacob dropped his intense gaze to the table, but not before Holly was certain she saw a wave of guilt pass over his absorbing hazel eyes.

‘She was only twelve at the time. We wrote to each other a bit and she let on she wasn’t happy, but at the time I figured it was more important for me to make money so that later she would be set.’

Jacob absently took a large gulp of wine.

‘A few years later I came home, a man of means and experience, rid of my resentment towards my father. Or so I thought. I walked in to find half of the furniture gone, a pile of ironing covering the couch and Ana practically tied to the sink. She was only four years older but had aged so that I barely recognised her. Her clothes were ragged, and her hair had been chopped short, by her own hand, I later discovered. My bright, beautiful little sister was all but gone, replaced with this listless, miserable creature.’

‘Jacob,’ Holly whispered. She lifted a finger to cover her trembling lips, blinking fast to clear the tears blurring her vision. What have I begun?

Why did I begin? Jacob asked himself.

But he was unable to drag his eyes away from Holly’s compassionate face. When she looked at me with those bigblue eyes and asked such a simple question, about cooking, what made me leap into this tale?

It was like leaping off a bridge but all it had taken was for her to ask, and he had leapt. He felt as if he were dangling over the edge and that Holly had control of the only rope that could bring him back to safety. Yet he had complete faith that she would not let go.

And now he had started he knew there was no way he could stop until the whole thing played itself out.

‘Angered beyond thought, and before I even had the chance to hug the poor girl, I forced her to tell me where he was. Down at the local pub, of course. I found him sitting at the bar, a frail shell of the man I had once known. I tossed him the papers to our family home. I had paid off his mortgage. He glanced at the papers, barely registering the fact of them, much less the enormous symbolic gesture of reconciliation I had offered him. I left in disgust, went home, collected Ana and left without a note, knowing that at least now he could wallow in his own self-misery with a roof over his head but without taking Ana down with him.’

‘So you looked after her?’

Jacob nodded.

‘But you were only twenty.’

‘I know, but what choice did we have? So the next few years I was her rock, her whole life, until she managed to get back on her feet.’ I don’t ever want to feel that exposed again. Having someone else depend so entirely on me. It was just so hard.

Holly nodded. And Jacob felt sure it was not just an affectation. She had heard the unsaid words and she understood. ‘What happened to your father?’

Jacob shrugged. ‘He passed away about four years ago.’

‘Before you left for New Orleans?’

Jacob inhaled sharply. She doesn’t miss a beat. ‘That week. After the funeral I made the move.’ Took off, more like it.

‘It all seems to have turned out for the best, don’t you think? You’ve certainly done well for yourself and you and Anabella are on good terms.’

‘But Ana has been spoilt,’ he said. ‘She’s never been interested in holding down a job, and would rather burn her clothes than wash and iron them herself. And that’s my failing.’

Holly had found out what she wanted to know. Her lovely Jacob had exhausted more emotions in the last years of his childhood than most people did in a lifetime. Then in adulthood decided if he had no feelings, they could never consume him.

How could she hope to bring someone back from that sort of pain? She had hardly experienced the kind of rich, fulfilled childhood and stable family that could make it all better for him.

But she would do her best to try.

‘Jacob. Are you kidding me? You helped a child become an adult. Many people never get that chance.’

‘I was clueless.’

‘You were a kid. You can hardly have been expected to know all the answers.’

Jacob shifted in his chair, trying to throw off the strange feeling that had fast crept up on him. He found himself reaching for Holly’s reassurance. And that was exactly what he had just finished telling himself he never wanted to endure again.

He felt that familiar old need to just run and run. But this time he would not look back.

And then Holly took his palm in hers.

‘Listen to me.’

What choice did he have as she stroked the back of his hand? He listened.

‘From what Beth has told me of Ana, she is compassionate and optimistic, serious and spirited. Without her specific blend of life experiences she may not have taken on that formidable combination of traits.’

His hand tingled from the inadvertent patterns she was weaving across his skin. ‘You are probably right.’

‘No probably about it, I am right. I truly believe a person needs highs and lows, comedy and tragedy in order to mature into a valuable, well-rounded personality. I mean, without the sad times how can you really enjoy the happy times? You know how it feels so good after a great big sneeze?’

Jacob was completely caught off guard. The corners of his mouth twitched in the beginnings of a smile. ‘Sure.’

‘Well, that’s because of the intense discomfort and irritation preceding it. You know how it goes. That first slight tingle that makes your nose twitch, which then grows into that bothersome tickle that builds and builds into an exasperating itch. And then comes the sneeze and when it is released, ahhh, what a wonderful sensation. But that wonderful sensation is only the same non-sensation you had before the tingle even started. Basically the good feeling only exists because of the bad feeling prior to it.’

Jacob’s laughter came more easily. ‘I guess there is some peculiar sense in there somewhere.’

‘Peculiar or not, it’s true. Without understanding of deep sorrow there can be no appreciation of sheer joy.’

Holly patted him companionably on the hand, pushed her chair back and stood up. ‘Now, my friend, could you please point the way to the little girls’ room?’

Jacob pointed down the stairs to the doorway next to the kitchen. Holly smiled her thanks and rubbed Jacob’s shoulder as she passed him by, sending a wash of warmth from her lithe fingertips through his tense shoulder.

As she reached the door she turned back for a moment, as though she knew he was studying her, and smiled before disappearing into the room beyond.

A small smile played at Jacob’s lips as he thought of his younger sister and her love of stray animals, her abhorrence of reality television and refusal to cut her long dark hair any shorter than her shoulder blades. Without those traits and without his support through those formative years, she would not be the same Ana.

With a deep, contented sigh, Jacob rose from his seat and cleared the table, whistling softly along with the upbeat jazz music as he did, a spring in his step and a serenity he did not remember ever feeling.

As Holly washed her hands in the bathroom sink she looked into the mirror. Her lipstick was all but gone; only a light burgundy stain remained on her full lips. Her tongue ran over her teeth, once again tasting the honey soy stir-fry Jacob had cooked.

In the corner of the mirror she caught sight of a bath, which was so huge it took up all of one corner of the spacious room. It was certainly large enough to fit Jacob’s tall frame. Easily. As well as that of another person.

Her eyes swung back to the mirror so she faced herself head-on.

‘Holly, get a grip,’ she growled through clenched teeth. ‘And get your briefcase and get out of here before you do something you can’t take back.’ Something worse than justpicturing him stripping off and lowering his long, muscular length into a hot bath filled with bubbles …

‘Holly!’ she said aloud, bringing her hands to her face and slapping herself lightly. She had to shake off the growing ardour that mental picture had initiated.

Jacob was a guy who needed time and space. He needed patience and kind words. She felt as though he had made some progress out there tonight and the last thing he needed was some husband-hungry woman leaping into his arms and professing her undying love.

Once free of the bathroom, Holly found herself back in what she assumed was Jacob’s bedroom.

The natural tones and unpretentious feel of the room matched the rest of the home. ‘St John’s ace lithograph’ filled an otherwise blank wall above the bed head and bookshelves ran the length of one wall.

This could be her one and only time there and she could not resist soaking up as much of Jacob’s habitat as possible. She ran her fingers along the smooth, clean horizontal planes of the bookshelves. Amongst the numerous books there sat a few photo frames; most housed pictures of Jacob with a thin brunette woman. Holly ran a finger over the girl’s face, assuming it was Anabella. She had the same dark hair and deep hazel eyes and her smile towards her brother was bursting with love.

And between a pair of stout candleholders and a bunch of unused candles sat a pair of much-used boxing gloves in a glass case.

She stopped short at this last item, staring at the rough, rounded surfaces with their numerous cracks, bruises and stains. Looking closer, she even thought she could make out splatters of dried blood on the knuckle of the right hand. A chill ran down her spine as her mind clouded with a flash of images of how those marks and scrapes would have been achieved. She knew exactly what it took for a pair of well-worn boxing gloves to look like that.

Then she remembered that Jacob was the man who had organised those dangerous boxing bouts for his employees to ‘enjoy’. She found it hard reconciling her memory of the antagonistic, commanding, condescending man of that night with the astute, intriguing, reflective man on the other side of the door.

But they were one and the same.

Jacob, whom Ben and Beth considered a close and worthy friend, who worried for his little sister, and who had unsuspectingly captured Holly’s heart was the same ruthless and unfettered Jacob Lincoln of Lincoln Holdings.

The clink of china from the dining room jolted Holly from her puzzled reverie. Having no idea how long she had been snooping, she decided it was time to leave.

On her way to the door she passed a chest of drawers. Her mind reeling to a conversation she’d had with Beth a few days before, Holly turned back and opened the top drawer. She stared at the contents for a long moment before shutting the drawer quietly.

‘Definitely time to go home,’ she whispered aloud as she walked out of the room.




CHAPTER FOURTEEN


HOLLY walked into the main room determined to find her host so that she could make her excuses and leave. The table had been cleared and cleaned but there was no sign of Jacob. She moved to the hearth to wait for him to return. Her skin tingled from a mixture of the sizzling heat of the fire and a whole different warmth that had lit her from within since she’d come to realise that she was in love.

She caught sight of something hidden in a shadowy corner, and moved in that direction for a closer look, when the lights in that corner sprang on in a blinding flash.

Holly screamed as she spun around, her eyes searching wildly for Jacob. He was near the front doorway, his hands moving down from a bank of light switches on the wall by his shoulder.

‘Sorry,’ he said as he sauntered towards her. All signs of the reclusive man from dinner had vanished and he was replaced with a Jacob she had not seen before. The approving warmth in his eyes was so unmistakable, for the first time she felt like she was the hunted.

‘I didn’t mean to startle you,’ he said, his voice low and husky. ‘I knew you were heading to my bag so I thought I’d make it easier for you to have a nose around.’

‘Your bag?’ Holly asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jacob held out his arm motioning her towards the corner. She turned back to see a red punching bag hanging there sedately.

She swallowed hard. It was colossal. Taller than her by half. Thick metallic chains ran from both ends, connecting the bag to large matching steel plates bolted to the floor and ceiling.

Taking the last few steps towards the bag, she reached out tentatively and gave it a slight push. The heavy bag barely moved. She pulled her hand away as thought burnt by the touch, rubbing her fingers together committing to memory the rough, cool feel of the worn leather.

Jacob joined her, his hands on hips and his eyes bright. ‘When I refurbished the place I had the roof and floor reinforced so as to take its weight. Do you want a go?’

He slapped the bag playfully a couple of times. Holly baulked, her pulse quickening in loathing at the thought. She backed away holding up her hands defensively.

‘No, thank you.’

‘Are you sure? It’s great fun.’

‘Sorry. I have no interest in beating up a big red bag that has never done anything to deserve my wrath.’

‘It’s good for releasing tension. And it’s excellent exercise. It’ll work muscles you never knew you had,’ Jacob promised as he jogged up and down with loose fists raised at the big bag.

Holly kept walking backwards, putting herself as far from the bag and Jacob’s flailing fists as possible. ‘If I hadn’t discovered those muscles to date I’m sure I can get through the next fifty years without them.’ She kept her voice light, to stop herself sounding as she felt. Frantic. ‘And aren’t there better ways to release tension than hitting something or someone?’

‘I can think of at least one.’

Holly stopped short. Her eyes flew to Jacob’s and she was all but undone.

He had stopped bouncing around. His feet were shoulder-width apart, and he had steadied the heavy bag in two hands. His dark soft hair was tousled from the exercise and a lock flopped down his forehead. His eyes were bright and his breathing was heavy.

If her mind had not already been conjuring up inappropriate sensual images, she would have taken that as a serious invitation. And what an invitation that could have been. The man before her was so male, so virile it was enough to wrench any woman’s heart. Add to that the ‘nobody can touch my heart’ aura he carried with him like a weight across his broad shoulders and he was an irresistible package.

But the fact that he had long since had Holly’s for the taking meant she was in danger of seeing meaning in his looks and words that were not there. She could almost convince herself she saw her own desire reflected in his bright hazel eyes.

What a picture she makes, Jacob thought. Her blue eyes flashed and her own heavy breathing was more than a match for his. For someone he once thought cool and calm, she was the most emotive woman he had ever met. Every thought and fancy played across her face the second it crossed her mind. And if she wasn’t careful, he would take the three steps over there and make good her very thoughts and fancies.

He had thrown the line out in jest. Sort of. But instead of a raised eyebrow and a haughty stare he had been hit with a look of undisguised passion. A silent submission. And it shocked him to his core.

What would happen if he made good on that throwaway invitation? What an encounter that could be. If only she were that sort of woman.

If only.

His mind had been spinning in that direction all night. Who was he kidding? It had been spinning that way for two weeks. And if that look was anything to go by, her mind had been spinning on a similar track.

But this was not a woman to be toyed with. Ben and Beth’s best friend. He should never have cooked her dinner. She had been right about that from the outset. There was no point. It was too close to home. It would be too complicated.

But, oh, it would be so sweet.

Jacob ran a hand through his hair, took a step away from the bag. Time to wipe that mesmerising look from her lovely face. Time to change the subject.

‘Do you really have such an objection to boxing or are you just claiming the accepted feminine view for my benefit?’

Holly blinked.

That’s better. Dislike me. Fight me. Then she lifted her chin in defiance. Better still.

‘And what would I be hoping to gain in coming across as acceptably feminine?’

He wanted her up and debating. Much safer than standing before him so quiet, so lovely, making him ache through wanting to touch her. He reached out and took hold of the bag once more, needing to distract himself from his runaway thoughts. Better his hands occupied there than reaching out for her.

‘All I’m saying is that I’d rather hear your opinion than an expected opinion any day.’

There, that should get her worked up.

‘Truthfully, Jacob, that is my opinion, expected or not,’ she said, seeming to drag the statement from deep within her.

Jacob watched in chagrin as the fight drained out of her. She deflated before his eyes until she looked so sad, so tired, and so vulnerable, as though she had been pretending to be strong for such a long time and could do it no longer. She could not know how it affected him.

‘This all frightens me a little.’ She motioned to the punching bag. ‘The first time we met you yelled at me, a complete stranger in the street, then there was that horrible boxing match at the Fun and Games where you advocated violence to your employees. Then I found those old gloves in what amounts to a shrine in your bedroom, and now this. There seems to be an unsettling pattern forming.’

The one word that had captured Jacob’s attention had been the word ‘frightens’. Only then did he detect Holly’s panicky expression. Her hands were clasped defensively in front of her chest and her feet were planted firmly as though she was ready to fly at any sign of trouble. And she flinched with every random slap he gave the bag.

Jacob moved away from the bag, lightly taking Holly’s arm to lead her to sit with him on the big couch by the fire.

‘What are you frightened of, Holly?’

She didn’t answer, just shrugged and swallowed hard, her big blue eyes wide, still focussed on the bag in the distance. Jacob kept hold of both of her hands in one of his. With his other hand he lightly stroked her hair to relax her and kept his voice deliberately soft.

‘Big Red over there is just for fun and fitness. Though as a kid I had a good teacher who took me aside and joined me up for elementary boxing classes at a local gym. It taught me how to master my emotions and how to focus on the task in front of me. I put on matches for the staff to teach them those same ideals.’

‘And the gloves?’ she asked, her voice subdued and wavering.

‘The gloves once belonged to Muhammad Ali and are encased in glass in the safety of my room as they are worth a small fortune.’

Holly seemed to have relaxed very little. Her eyes had softened and lost that startled look, but she still shook. Jacob’s hands now stroked her hair from her face, behind her ears, around behind her neck. He still sought to relax her but he was also finding the touch exhilarating and was soon doing it for his own benefit as much as hers.

‘It’s no big deal, Holly. Really. I mean, Ana has a punching bag at her place. I dare say she uses hers more than I do these days. She loves it. Haven’t you ever done kick boxing, or self defence classes?’

‘I take yoga with Beth every week,’ she answered quietly, and then a hesitant smile lit her lovely face. ‘Just plain old yoga, not even power yoga.’

Jacob shifted in his seat. His heart rate rose after just one quick smile from her. Not sensible. He slowly drew his hands away from her, resting one on his thigh and the other along the back of the couch. He had more important things to get from this conversation than the delight of her touch.

‘Holly, I haven’t been in a fist fight since I was sixteen and have never used my skills outside of a ring. I promise. I have never hit a woman and never would.’ He shot her a playful smile. ‘No matter how exasperating I know some of them can be.’

But instead of laughing along with him as he had hoped, she flinched and shrank within herself. Did she have to be so sensitive?

Leaning forward, he raised her head with a finger under her chin. ‘Come on, Holly, this is ridiculous. I need to know that you believe me. I couldn’t endure thinking that you were seriously fearful of me. Tell me you believe me.’

Holly swallowed hard as she looked into his pleading eyes. ‘I believe you,’ she said.

But Jacob saw the uncertainty. He also saw that this uncertainty was worrying her, as though she really wanted to believe in him. There had to be a significant reason behind this wish to believe and the idea invigorated him.

If she saw him as merely a client with whom she was having a business dinner, or even as a ‘friend of a friend’, it really shouldn’t matter to her. But evidently it did matter. Before he could tell himself it was a bad idea, Jacob leant forward ever so slightly and she did not turn away.




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