LITMIR.BIZ

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had the reputation of a scumbag. He was famous for it. The gossip mags claimed he’d treated his co-star girlfriend abominably, although if Maggie was to be believed that stuff was all rumour and nothing to do with reality. He hadn’t behaved badly at the wedding. She’d used the excuse that she’d been having physio for an ankle sprain to try to avoid dancing with him at the party. But he’d convinced her that it would be bad luck for the bridesmaid not to dance with the best man, and made himself impossible to resist. But still. Nice or not, Nick in Porthkara was the final straw.

      Turning her back on him she took a bottle of milk from the fridge and poured the tea. Her grandmother’s lucky charm bracelet shifted slightly on her wrist. Somewhere down the line she reckoned the luck must have run out. As she passed him the hot mug their fingers clashed. Heat climbed up her neck and spread to her face no doubt turning it a colour that rivaled her hair dye. Zapped by awkward sparks, her hand fluttered up into her hair and landed on the pink silk scarf she’d tied it up with.

      Crikey! What must I look like? Something the cat dragged in!

      ‘So why do you want to take flight?’

      ‘I didn’t mean that. I don’t really want to leave, not permanently at any rate.’

      ‘But?’ His gaze suddenly soft and serious trapped hers searchingly.

      ‘I was supposed to go travelling with my boyfriend. And I didn’t. I couldn’t. My mum was in an accident. Car crash. Head-on collision. She’s lucky to be alive. She was in intensive care for a week.’

      ‘She pulled through?’

      ‘She’s okay.’ She nodded earnestly. ‘No lasting damage, thank goodness. But that week was the longest of my life. It felt like the world had ended. The waiting was horrible.’ She shrugged it off, not relishing dredging up the memories. ‘It happened the night before we were due to go away. So I couldn’t leave. Joe went without me.’

      ‘Nice.’

      ‘Well, he said I could join him in Australia when I was ready.’ There was no point telling him all the little details. ‘With one thing and another it never happened.’

      ‘Why not go meet up with him now?’

      ‘It’s too late.’

      ‘It might not be.’

      It was polite of him to show an interest, but she wished he wouldn’t. He wasn’t in full possession of the facts. ‘I finished with him, and I didn’t tell people and neither did he, and now I’m in a bind because it seems he got over me quicker than I got over him. He’s announced on social media that he’s gone and got married in Mexico.’

      ‘Ouch.’

      ‘So it’s not so much that I want to go far away or stay away a long time or anything, but just at the minute I’d love to escape.’

      A gust of fresh sea air blew in fluttering the curtains. She inhaled deeply, welcoming the familiar smell of salt and home. Nick watched her sip her tea. At least being scrutinized by him was a distraction from the prospect of half the eyes in the village analyzing her. The idea of being an object of pity smarted terribly.

      She looked at the kitchen clock. ‘Joe’s post went up on his timeline roughly twelve hours ago and that’s exactly how long I’ve been feeling like I want to run away.’

      ‘Am I getting this right? You’d like to scurry off somewhere and hide and instead you’re stuck with me. The unexpected guest.’ Nick gulped his tea. ‘I can only apologize.’

      Ridiculously self-conscious, she fumbled in a cupboard for the emergency stash of chocolate biscuits. She popped off the tin’s lid and held it out to Nick, tightening her fingers to control the shake.

      ‘I’m being terribly rude. You’ve caught me on a bad day. Biscuit?’ She smiled, dredging up some cheerfulness she didn’t feel.

      ‘I’ve got a photo shoot coming up soon. I’m on a strict nutritional programme. I daren’t risk it.’

      ‘You wouldn’t risk it for a chocolate biscuit?’

      He shook his head slowly, the line of his lips hard and tight.

      ‘I’d say “bad day” is one hell of an understatement. I have a suggestion. I’ll lie low here for as long it takes to sort my face out, keep out of your way, help you out in any way I can. And when it’s time for me to go you can tag along for a couple of days, keep me company on my photo shoot.’

      ‘That’s sweet, but really I couldn’t.’

      ‘Of course you could.’ The coaxing drawl fuddled her head. ‘It’ll be fun. The shoot’s in Paris.’

       Chapter Three

      ‘You’re inviting me to Paris with you? Seriously?’

      To make things more stupefying she had a flashback to the delicious hold his body had had over hers when they’d danced together at the wedding on Christmas Eve. It was some sort of caught-on-the-rebound related delirium evidently. Either that, or overwork.

      ‘Think it over. No need to decide right away. Sounds like you could use some fun.’

      Discombobulated she walked away from him carrying her mug of tea and the biscuit tin into the living room.

      ‘We don’t know each other.’ Balancing on the arm of the sofa she bit into the crumbly digestive and tasted the smooth milk chocolate on her tongue. ‘I feel a smidge bad. You sure you don’t want one?’

      He shook his head and opened a smart holdall with a posh label on it and took out a selection of vitamins and potions. He unscrewed the top of what looked like a toothpaste tube and squirted green goo onto his tongue, chasing it with a swig of tea. ‘What I want to do and what I can do are two different things.’

      ‘What the heck was that?’

      ‘A food supplement.’ He made a face. ‘Part of my energizing diet.’ Nonchalantly, he opened each of the multiple pots in turn and popped a single pill from each.

      Layla pulled a face. ‘Crikey. Give me a chocolate biscuit over that lot, any day of the week.

      He put all the little tubs, packs and tubes bag into the holdall and stared at them for a second or two before zipping it up, a thoughtful look on his superlatively handsome face. ‘You know what, Red? You’re probably right. I think I will have a biscuit.’

      That contagious smile twisted his lips and she handed over the packet.

      ‘Hello? Anybody in?’ Mervin wiped his boots on the doormat and stepped into the cottage. ‘You left the door ajar. You want to be careful about that. You don’t want just anybody letting themselves in.’ He gave Layla a quick once over. ‘By jingo, Layla love. What have you come as?’

      ‘I’m here to paint.’

      He nodded wisely, and turned his attention to Nick. ‘What’s all this then?’ He bobbed his head in the direction of the doorway and gestured outside with his thumb. ‘I’ve had a report of an abandoned vehicle and lights on in a property that’s known to be unoccupied.’

      ‘Told you,’ Layla muttered at Nick in a whispered aside. ‘He’s here to arrest you.’

      ‘I take it that’s your car outside sir?’

      ‘It is. It’s a hire car.’

      ‘And the lights in the night?’

      ‘Guilty.’

      Layla cringed. ‘You probably don’t want to be saying things like that.’

      The puzzled policeman, eyebrows knitted, stood his ground, taking in the battered state of Nick’s face.

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