Anything but Vanilla(39)

All day they’d been fencing with one another, touching close, kissing close. They weren’t kids. They both understood how easy it would be to step over a line that should not, must not be crossed.

There was her life plan to consider and he probably had someone, somewhere waiting for him. He’d been kind, more helpful than she’d had any right to expect, but that was all. The kiss had meant nothing.

Ignoring a sharp little tug of disappointment, she said, ‘On the other hand, gravy in the eyebrows is never a good look and, although I wouldn’t have said anything, it’s obvious that you’re in desperate need of some beauty sleep.’

That provoked a wry smile. ‘Thanks.’

‘Don’t mention it. Get in. I’ll drop you at Ria’s.’

‘No need. It’s out of your way and I need to loosen up. I’m not used to sitting at a desk all day.’

It wasn’t—out of her way—but despite an almost overwhelming desire to drag him home, feed him and tuck him up beneath her duck-down duvet so that he could sleep the clock round in comfort, she could see that he meant it and she kept her mouth shut as he took a step back.

She should be grateful.

She wasn’t the mother-earth type, brewing up herbs, making her own bread, creating out-of-this-world ices like Ria. Her world involved spreadsheets and cost accounting and a five-year plan that would put her name alongside the legendary local businesswomen Amaryllis Jones, Willow Armstrong, Veronica Kavanagh, who’d paved the way, who were her inspiration.

Besides, any man who travelled in places where there was no mail service had to be capable of taking care of himself. Meanwhile, she had worlds to conquer, millions to make. Falling in lust with a man on the move was absolutely the last thing in the entire world she was ever going to do.

She shut the van door, lowered the window. ‘You’re quite sure? About the lift? I wouldn’t want you passing out on the footpath.’

‘Quite sure. Please give my apologies to your grandmother. I have no doubt that her pie will be wonderful, but I wouldn’t do it justice.’

‘Actually, when I said a good meal, I had my fingers crossed. Dinner with The Herbs tends to be a bit of a gamble. You may have had a lucky escape,’ she said as she put the van into gear. ‘Thanks for your help, today, Alexander. I really appreciate it and if you do hear from Ria will you ask her to call me?’

‘Give me your number.’ He took out his phone and programmed it into the memory, then nodded briefly, stepped back.

She sat for a moment, just looking at him until she realised that he was waiting for her to leave. He still had his phone in his hand and was probably going to call a taxi the minute she’d gone.

She gave him a little toot and eased out into the traffic. It was slow moving and Alexander passed her while she was waiting for the traffic lights to change.

He must have seen the van but he didn’t slow or look around. She, on the other hand, watched him, a rather large lump in her throat, as he ate up the distance with a long, effortless stride. Then an impatient toot from behind warned her that the lights had changed and she was forced to turn with the one-way flow of traffic that would take her home.

It was only when she was pulling into the drive that the ‘out of your way’ penny dropped. He hadn’t asked for Scoop!’s address, but it was on the sub-lease he’d prepared. He must have Googled Scoop! at some point during the day—she’d have done the same thing in his place—and, having discovered that the office was on the Haughton Manor estate, he’d assumed that she lived there, too.

‘Wrong sister, Mr West,’ she murmured, feeling just a touch smug. ‘Not quite as smart as you think you are.’

* * *

Alexander headed for the river, stopping only to pick up fish and chips that he took to a bench beside the water, tossing more to the ducks than he ate himself. Wishing that he’d gone with Sorrel to share a family supper. It had been a very long time since he’d eaten home cooking.

Unfortunately, it hadn’t been the pie that he’d wanted to taste.

Either the jet lag was worse than usual or he’d been in the jungle too long. Without a woman for too long. The heat had been there from the moment she’d turned around. A two-way glow that should have made it one easy step to the kind of brief fling that, when all the stars lined up, he indulged in on his flying trips home.

This morning the stars had appeared to be in perfect alignment but he’d known from the moment his lips touched hers that he’d made a mistake.