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      ‘Thank you,’ Shelley said.

      But Declan could sense the anxiety underlying her politeness. Then she glanced up at the big grandfather clock standing beneath the stairs.

      ‘Mother, Shelley has to get going somewhere,’ he said. ‘I think she needs you to move your car right now.’

      Shelley shot him a grateful look. ‘I don’t mean to be rude, Mrs Grant, but I’m on my way to my sister’s engagement party so I can’t be late.’

      ‘Skip the Mrs Grant, call me Judith,’ his mother said, much to Declan’s surprise. ‘I’ll go get my keys and move the car for you.’

      Then his mother paused and her eyes narrowed. She snapped her fingers. ‘I’ve got a better idea,’ she said. ‘You can’t drive a battered old 4x4 wearing that gorgeous dress and looking like you just stepped off a catwalk.’

      His mother directed her gaze back to him. ‘Declan, let Shelley drive one of your sports cars. Heaven knows, you’ve got a garage full of them.’

      Declan automatically went to say no. Why would he let anyone drive one of his valuable European sports cars? But this wasn’t just anyone. This was Shelley. And her eyes were lit with a gleam of excitement. Of course she would be the type of woman who would love to get behind the wheel of a performance car.

      He took a deep breath. ‘Good idea, Mother.’

      Shelley did a little jig of excitement in her sky-high heels. ‘Really, Declan, you’d let me drive your car?’

      He rolled his eyes in a pretence of reluctance. ‘There are conditions,’ he said. ‘The car turns into a pumpkin at midnight. You have to have it home by then.’

      Shelley’s eyes widened. ‘Really?’ she said. ‘Not about the pumpkin, I mean. Well, of course, I know you’re making a joke about that. But about the midnight thing. I mean, it’s Lynne’s engagement party and I have to stay to the end. She and Keith are party animals so heaven knows what time they—’

      Declan smiled. ‘Relax. You can bring the car back any time, as long as you drive it carefully—’

      ‘Because it’s so valuable?’

      ‘There is that,’ he said. ‘But it’s a very powerful car and I don’t want you injured either.’ She was way more valuable than any car.

      She smiled. ‘I’m a good driver. I grew up in the country, remember. I was driving around the property when I was twelve, long before I legally got my licence at seventeen. I’ll take extra-special care with your car, I promise.’

      ‘I’m sure if you can drive that beast of a 4x4 of yours you can drive anything.’

      She nodded in acknowledgement of his words, then turned to his mother. ‘Thank you, Judith, for suggesting this. How did you know how much I would love to drive a sports car?’

      ‘A princess can’t drive a pumpkin,’ said his mother.

      Shelley did look like a princess—even more of a princess than Estella—glamorous and enticing. ‘I’ll go get the car key,’ he said.

      When he returned it was to find Shelley laughing at something his mother had said—and his mother laughing too. He didn’t know how he felt about them getting on so well.

      He jangled the keys in front of him. ‘I’ll take you out to the garage and introduce you to the car,’ he said.

      ‘How exciting,’ said Shelley, her eyes gleaming. ‘I can’t wait to see my sister’s face when I drive up in it.’ She turned to his mother. ‘Thank you again, Mrs... I mean, Judith, this is going to be such a treat,’ she said.

      ‘It’s my absolute pleasure,’ said his mother with speculative eyes as she looked from Shelley to Declan and back again. ‘And remember, I’ll be coming over during the week for a guided tour of the garden. With my son’s approval, of course.’

      Shelley flung her shawl around her shoulders as he led her through the connecting door to the garage. He was tempted almost beyond endurance to slide it off her. Her back view was sensational and he would have been more than happy to admire it for longer.

      He stood back and let Shelley enjoy her first sight of the sleek silver sports car that was to be hers for the evening. She was unable to contain her excitement and made throaty little murmurs of pleasure as she walked around the car admiring it from every angle. She actually stroked the bonnet. He couldn’t be jealous of a car.

      ‘I can tell you like it,’ he said.

      ‘Oh, yes,’ she said, her eyes shining, her cheeks flushed.

      ‘The black device opens the garage door,’ he said as he handed her the key ring.

      She stood close by, her high heels bringing her closer to his eye level. Her sweet scent filled his senses. ‘Declan, this is really good of you,’ she said. ‘I hope you didn’t feel pressured into letting me drive the car.’

      ‘I don’t get pressured into doing anything I don’t want to,’ he said hoarsely.

      Their eyes met for a long time. ‘I wish...’ she said wistfully, her voice trailing away.

      ‘You wish what?’

      ‘I wish you could come to the party with me,’ she said. ‘Of course, you could drive your car if...if you were able to come with me.’

      Declan had a sudden, fierce desire to say yes. He sure as hell didn’t want her to go to her sister’s party alone where she would be a magnet for any red-blooded male in the room—he wondered if she had any idea how outrageously sexy she looked. He had the urge to take off his jacket, fling it over her shoulders and tell her she had to keep it on all evening. He wanted her for his eyes only.

      ‘If I could come—and I can’t—you would be driving, not me,’ he said.

      She pulled one of her endearing faces. ‘But, of course, you have your mother with you. Who seems very nice, by the way.’

      Declan sucked in a quick breath. Nice wasn’t the word he would ever use to describe his barracuda barrister mother.

      ‘She’s okay,’ he acknowledged. ‘She insists on bringing her laptop over every few weeks for me to help her with it when I know very well she doesn’t need help.’

      ‘No doubt she wants to see if you’re okay on your own,’ she said. ‘My mother checks in with me at least once every few days.’

      ‘Perhaps,’ he said. He didn’t want to waste time talking about his mother. Not when Shelley’s shawl was slipping off her shoulders again. This time he reached over and took it right off, sliding his hands down her bare arms. She trembled—from the cold in the garage or his touch?

      ‘One more thing,’ he said.

      ‘About the car?’ she asked, eyes wide.

      ‘About this,’ he said. He kissed her, hard and hungry and demanding—making sure she went to that party branded by his kisses. With a throaty little murmur of surprise and pleasure, she opened to him and met his tongue with hers, tasting, exploring, pressing her body to his—until want for her ignited through him in a flare of need. He broke away from her mouth, pressing hot kisses down her throat, tasting her, breathing in her sweet, arousing scent, sliding his hands to cup the enticing side swell of her breasts.

      She moaned and wrenched herself away from him. ‘Declan. No. Stop. If...if it was anything other than Lynne’s party I wouldn’t go, I’d stay here and we—’

      ‘Don’t say it,’ he groaned. ‘Go. Just go.’

      She stared at him for a long moment, her breasts rising and falling as she struggled to control her breath. ‘I wish... No. I have to go.’ She planted a quick kiss on his mouth and went to step back but he snaked out his arm to tug her

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