British Bachelors: Perfect and Available: Mr. Jessica Hart

for you. You have so much potential if only you would realise it. I really think it would be a mistake for you to tie yourself down to somebody ordinary who’ll just drag you down to his level.’

      She should have known better than to try and press Flick about her father. ‘You don’t need to worry,’ said Allegra dully. ‘There’s no question of anything between Max and me and, even if there were, he’s going abroad to work soon.’

      ‘Just as well,’ said Flick.

      It was just as well, Allegra told herself in the taxi home. Flick had suggested that she stay the night in her old room, but she wanted to go back to the flat. She didn’t want to admit to herself that she needed to know if Max had stayed with Darcy or not and it was like a sword being drawn out of her entrails when she opened the door and saw Max stretched out on the sofa.

      ‘You’re back early.’ Funny, her voice sounded light and normal when her heart was behaving so oddly, racing and lurching, bouncing off her chest wall like a drunk.

      ‘It’s half past one. It’s not that early.’

      ‘I suppose not.’ Allegra went to sit in the armchair. She picked at the piping. ‘So, how was your evening?’

      ‘Fine. Yours?’

      ‘Oh, you know. Lots of clever, glamorous guests. Witty conversation. Delicious food. The usual.’

      ‘Your average social nightmare.’

      Allegra laughed and toed off her shoes so that she could curl her feet up beneath her. She was feeling better already.

      ‘So, did you find your true love over the canapés?’ Max asked.

      ‘I don’t know about that,’ she said. ‘I sat between two handsome, ambitious single men specially picked out for me by my mother.’

      Max’s gaze flickered to her face and then away. ‘So who’s the lucky guy?’

      ‘Neither.’ Reaching up, she pulled the clips from her hair and shook it loose, oblivious to the way Max’s eyes darkened. ‘I’ve decided I need a relationship detox. I might abstain from all men for a while.’

      ‘That would be a shame.’

      ‘I’m sick of feeling that they only ask me out because I’m Flick Fielding’s daughter.’ It was the first time Allegra had said it out loud and she winced as she heard the resentment reverberating around the room.

      ‘That’s not why they ask you out,’ said Max roughly.

      ‘Isn’t it? Why else would they? I’m not clever the way they are. I can’t contribute to the conversation. I’ve got nothing to offer.’

      ‘You’re beautiful,’ said Max. ‘Come on, Legs, you must know you are,’ he said when she gaped at him. ‘You’re gorgeous. Any man would be glad to be seen with you. I don’t know who you sat next to tonight, but if you think he was more interested in Flick’s influence than in the way you looked, you’re not thinking straight!’

      He would have been the one not thinking straight if he’d been sitting next to Allegra while she was wearing that dress. He would have been mesmerised by her arms, bare and slender, by those expressive hands, by the glow of her skin and the way the straight shiny hair threatened to slip out of its clips. He would have spent his whole time imagining how it would look falling to her shoulders, the way it was now.

      He wouldn’t have been able to eat, Max knew. His mouth would have been too dry and he’d have been too busy watching the sweep of her lashes, the brightness of her eyes, the tempting hollow of her cleavage, the curve of her breasts... And thinking about her bare knees under the table, the long, sexy legs in those ridiculous shoes.

      His head felt light and he realised it was because he’d stopped breathing. Max sucked in a steadying breath. Where had all that come from?

      ‘I didn’t know you thought I was beautiful,’ said Allegra, sounding thrown.

      ‘I thought so many other people would tell you there was no need for me to do the same. You’re still deeply irritating, mind,’ he said in an effort to drag the conversation back onto safe ground, ‘but of course you’re beautiful. I thought you knew.’

      ‘No.’ Allegra bent her head, pushing back the hair that slithered forward, but he still couldn’t see her face properly.

      It was probably just as well. Max was uneasily aware that something tenuous had insinuated itself into the air, like a memory hovering just out of reach, or a forgotten word trembling on the tip of a tongue. Something that seemed to be drawing the air tighter, squeezing out the oxygen so that his chest felt tight and his breathing oddly sticky.

      Could Allegra feel it?

      Apparently not. Even as he struggled to heave in another breath, she was lifting her head and focusing on him with those eyes that seemed to get more beautiful every time he looked into them.

      ‘Tell me how you got on with Darcy,’ she said, sounding so completely normal that Max squirmed inwardly with humiliation. She wasn’t finding it hard to breathe. She wasn’t aware of the tension in the air, or snarled in a knot of inconvenient and inappropriate lust.

      ‘I wondered if you’d end up staying the night,’ she went on, but not as if she cared one way or the other.

      So he obviously couldn’t admit that she was the reason he wasn’t tucked up next to the world’s favourite lingerie model right now.

      Because Darcy had made it very clear that she was up for a lot more than just dinner, but it hadn’t felt right, not when he’d spent most of the evening wondering what Allegra was doing and who her bloody mother had lined up to sit next to her. Flick might be keen on big brains, but Max was prepared to bet that they were men too, and that they wouldn’t be above a flirtatious touch every now and then: Allegra’s shoulder, her hand, her knee...

      It was only when Darcy had looked at him strangely that he’d realised he was grinding his teeth.

      What was wrong with him? Max had wanted to tear out his hair. There he was, sitting across the table from Darcy King, with a clear invitation to get his hands on that luscious body. It was the opportunity of a lifetime, a fantasy come true for a million men like him, and all he could think about was his sister’s scrawny friend! He had to be sickening for something. Or certifiable.

      Or both.

      He liked Darcy, he really did, but it had been awkward. He told Allegra what he’d told Darcy, which was the best excuse he could come up with at the time.

      ‘I don’t really want to get involved with Darcy,’ he said. ‘She’s nice but...well, I don’t see her fitting into my life, do you? I can’t imagine someone like Darcy out in Shofrar, and I don’t feel like being just a novelty plaything for her. I know most other men would give their eye teeth to be toyed with by her, but I’m not sure it would be worth it.’

      It wasn’t really an excuse. It was true. Not that Allegra seemed to be convinced.

      She looked at him strangely. ‘I doubt that Darcy’s thinking about anything serious,’ she said. ‘It would only be a bit of fun. Where does Shofrar come into it?’

      ‘That’s where my life is going to be,’ said Max stiffly, even as he winced inwardly at what a pompous jerk he sounded. But the words kept coming out of his mouth without taking the trouble of detouring through his brain. ‘There’s no point in getting involved with someone who can’t hack it away from a city.’

      Meaning what exactly? He wasn’t surprised at the way Allegra’s face clouded with disbelief.

      ‘So, let me get this right. You’re saying that you’re not going to have sex unless you can get married to someone who won’t mind being dragged out to some desert hellhole so that she can play second fiddle to your career?’

      ‘Yes...no!’ What was he saying?

      ‘Isn’t