Page 21 of One Bridegroom Required!

He drove her into the city, where she was quoted a very healthy price which made her think seriously about selling. And while they were in town she went to see the signwriter whom she had persuaded to decorate the front of the shop in the most unforgettable and spectacular style before Saturday.

It was almost six as they drove along the back roads out of Winchester towards Woodhampton, and Luke glanced over at her in the dim light of the car.

‘Fancy stopping off for supper on the way home?’

‘I’d love to,’ she whispered in delight, then could have kicked herself. How did she manage to come over like a sixteen-year-old being asked out on a first date!

Luke frowned in the semi-darkness. She confused the hell out of him; she blushed, she stumbled, she turned wide green eyes on him which made him feel guilty for wanting her. Which he did. Still. Frequently.

Sometimes she sounded as naive as a schoolgirl. An image which did not tally with the foxy way she had of looking at him sometimes. Or the way she looked herself... Today she was wearing dark velvet trousers which clung sinfully to those long legs of hers as she crossed one slim ankle over another. He tore his eyes away only just in time to narrowly miss bumping over a rock on the side of the road.

‘Damn!’

‘Don’t swear, Luke,’ she commented mildly.

Then cover up, he felt like saying, but resisted.

At the pub they settled down to eat plates of curry and half-pints of lager.

‘That was good,’ said Luke, wiping his mouth with a napkin and pushing the empty plate away. ‘Reminds me of Sunday lunches out in Kenya.’

‘Does it?’ She stared at a piece of poppadom. ‘And did you eat these?’

He grinned. ‘Sometimes.’

‘So was life very different out there?’

‘Different to what?’

‘Well...’ she looked around the pub, glittering and gaudy with metallic streamers ’...different to this.’

He looked at her. At the way her hair blazed like the sunsets he’d watched while drinking a beer in the hot dust at the end of the day. He thought about it. ‘Yeah. Very different. The days are ruled by the seasons and the animals’

‘And was it a very big game reserve?’

He smiled then, a relaxed smile, thinking that she asked questions with the absorption of a child. ‘There aren’t really any little reserves, Holly’ You need a plane to get around. I used to fly my little super-cub over the place—checking the herds and counting the game. Sometimes I’d get up early at six, and take the hot air balloon up—’

‘Seriously?’

He smiled. ‘Sure. It’s the best time of all—very, very beautiful, and the wind is quite still. The animals don’t even know you’re there, and you can see cheetah kills or check if any damage has been done by the odd rogue elephant. If there were any injured animals I’d go back for them with a vehicle, and bring them back and tend to them.’

‘And you loved the animals?’ she quizzed softly.

‘Not in the way you think.’

‘And what way is that?’

‘It’s not like having a puppy running round the place; not the same kind of thing at all. Man’s relationship with wild animals tends to be based on mutual respect, but they aren’t tame and they never will be.’

‘So they don’t love you unconditionally? I thought that was the thing which motivated people to work with animals.’

He shook his tawny head. ‘Nope. If you’re lucky, you can earn their trust—and that’s a pretty good feeling.’

No wonder he looked so rugged and brown and strong. Holly stared at the strong lines of his jaw and again felt that st

upid urge to trace her finger along its proud curve. ‘I’ve never met a real-life adventurer before.’

‘Hey!’ he contradicted softly, with a shake of his head. ‘It’s just a job, Holly.’

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