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thought the colour would bring out the raven’s wing darkness of your hair.’

      She glared at him without answering.

      ‘It’s meant to be a compliment,’ he explained. ‘You have the most beautiful, shiny hair. It was the first thing I noticed about you when I saw you perched on the top of my back fence.’

      Amelia fought against the compliment’s effect on her feminine psyche but it took a huge effort. Her hair was cut short, she did nothing to it but wash it each day. She couldn’t remember anyone ever calling it beautiful before, or at least not in a very long time.

      ‘It makes you look like an elf,’ he added with a tilt of his mouth.

      She gave him a scornful look. ‘I thought you said I looked like a pixie?’

      He grinned down at her. ‘Pixie, fairy, elf—what’s the difference?’

      She pursed her mouth at him. ‘A pixie has funny ears.’

      ‘Show me your ears,’ he said.

      She stepped backwards. ‘I—I beg your pardon?’

      He stepped forwards. ‘Go on. Prove to me you’re a pixie not an elf. I dare you.’

      ‘This is a t-totally ridiculous c-conversation,’ she said and backed away even farther, but she came up against the closed door. She had to crane her neck to keep eye contact, her heart skipping as fast as a professional boxer in training.

      ‘W-what are you doing?’ she squeaked as his hand reached for her hair.

      She shivered all over as his fingers tucked her hair behind one of her ears, his touch so gentle it felt like a caress of a long, soft feather against her sensitive skin. She couldn’t get her lungs to inflate properly and all of a sudden she had an almost uncontrollable urge to drop her gaze to the sensual curve of his mouth.

      ‘Well, how about that?’ he said as he stepped backwards. ‘I was wrong. There’s absolutely nothing weird about your ears.’

      Amelia was completely lost for words. She opened her mouth a couple of times but nothing came out.

      She watched as he walked back over to his desk, his long legs encased in dark trousers that highlighted his lean, athletic build. His light blue shirt was rolled back at the cuffs, revealing his tanned wrists with the sprinkling of dark masculine hair running down his arms to the backs of his fingers. He was wearing a silver watch—she couldn’t make out the brand but she assumed it was worth a small fortune.

      She stiffened as he picked up the parcel but instead of handing it to her he pulled out the bin from beneath his desk and dropped it into it.

      ‘What are you doing?’ she blurted, pushing herself away from the door.

      He gave her a guileless look. ‘I’m throwing the dress away.’

      ‘B-but…but why?’

      He gave a loose shoulder shrug. ‘You don’t want it.’

      ‘But that doesn’t mean you have to throw it away! You can give it to someone else…your sister, for instance.’

      ‘I bought it for you, not my sister,’ he said. ‘And besides, how would you feel if a guy bought a present for another woman and ended up giving it to you?’

      ‘Um…’

      He gave her a knowing little smile. ‘See? I told you. You wouldn’t like it one little bit.’

      Amelia’s eyes went to the bin and she swallowed. ‘I—I could find someone who would really like it…I mean…rather than you throw it away.’

      ‘Oh, would you?’ He gave her a grateful smile. ‘I’d really appreciate it. It cost an absolute packet—not that I mind, of course, as I can afford it—but my parents always taught me to be responsible with money. What’s that old saying? If you look after the pennies the pounds look after themselves?’

      Amelia was starting to think Alex Hunter had far too much talent in the way of charm. She could feel her mouth twitching and had to bite her tongue to stop herself from laughing out loud. No man, not even Benito with his silver tongue, had had this effect on her.

      He handed her the parcel, his fingers brushing against hers. ‘Please try and find it a good home,’ he said soberly. ‘I was getting very attached to that dress.’

      A burst of laughter spilled from her mouth. She tried to cover it with a cough, but she could see he wasn’t fooled.

      He gave a huge grin and raised his closed fist in the air in a punch of victory. ‘I knew I could do it!’ he crowed delightedly.

      ‘D-do what?’ She tried to restrict her smile but her mouth wouldn’t cooperate.

      ‘I wanted to make you smile and I did it. I had my doubts there for a while, but I finally wore you down.’

      ‘You’re impossible,’ she said and turned to leave, a ridiculous smile still stuck on her face.

      ‘Hey, are we still on for a date some time?’ he called out as she got to the door.

      She turned around to look at him. ‘I can’t possibly go on a date with you,’ she said, her belly doing a funny little flipflop as she met his eyes once more.

      ‘Why not?’

      She hunted her brain for a valid excuse. ‘I…I have nothing to wear.’

      His gaze went to the parcel under her arm before returning to hers, a smile tilting up the corners of his mouth. ‘You could always wear that, but to tell you the truth, I really liked the one you had on the other day.’

      She frowned at him in puzzlement. ‘The long black one?’

      He shook his head. ‘No, the one with the great view.’

      Amelia could feel the colour firing in her cheeks and wished she had more poise to deal with his effortless charm and playful banter.

      ‘I have to go…’ She reached for the door with clumsy fingers, her heart fluttering like a confined sparrow.

      ‘Here.’ He reached past her shoulder and opened the door for her. ‘Allow me.’

      She breathed in the fragrance of his aftershave, its citrus grace notes making her senses whirl all over again at his closeness. ‘Th-thank you.’

      He waved her through gallantly. ‘It was so nice of you to call round to see me,’ he said with another stomach-flipping grin. ‘Feel free to drop around any time.’

      She shook her head at him and left, but it took most of the morning before she could wipe the smile off her face, and even longer before the mad fluttery sensation in her stomach died down to a soft little pulse…

      CHAPTER FOUR

      IT WAS a punishing ride home. Amelia gave the hot sun a resentful scowl as she pedalled up the hill, certain it had come out in full force just to make her journey all the more tiresome.

      It had been a long day. One of the cardiac patients had taken a turn for the worse and she’d had to deal with distressed relatives who wanted a miracle to happen when a lifetime of bad diet and bad habits had led to the damage in the first place.

      She hadn’t run into Alex Hunter since she’d gone to his office. She’d heard he was taking the registrars through the procedure in a workshop prior to a case organised for Theatre the following morning.

      Somehow she had fielded Lucia’s questions when she’d come back to the ward, giving her a cut-down version of what had happened when she’d first met the visiting specialist.

      Amelia felt a little guilty that she hadn’t yet asked Alex about her father’s request to see him. She knew her father would question her as soon as she returned for news of when he would come to visit, but somehow the thought of Alex seeing where she

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