One Bridegroom Required!. Sharon Kendrick

been one of Holly’s most enduring memories—her mother’s long, artistic fingers neatly flying over the pristine sheen of soft satin and Belgian lace. The rhythmic pulling of the needle and thread had been oddly soothing. Up and down, up and down.

      ‘And why here?’ He interrupted her reverie. ‘Why Woodhampton?’

      ‘Because I wanted an old-fashioned Georgian building which was affordable. Somewhere with high ceilings and beautiful dimensions—the kind of place that would complement the dresses I make. City rents are prohibitive, and a modern box of a place wouldn’t do any justice to my designs.’

      He looked around him with a frown. ‘So when are you planning to open?’

      ‘As soon as possible.’ There was a pause. ‘I can’t afford not to.’

      ‘How soon?’

      ‘As soon as I can get the place straight. Get some pre-Christmas publicity and be properly established by January—that’s when brides start looking for dresses in earnest.’ She looked around her, suddenly deflated as the enormity of what she had taken on hit her, trying and failing to imagine a girl standing on a box, with yards of pristine ivory tulle tumbling down to the floor around her while Holly tucked and pinned.

      ‘It’s going to take a lot of hard work,’ he observed, watching her frown, wondering if she had any real idea of how much she had taken on.

      Holly was only just beginning to realise how much. ‘I’m not afraid of hard work,’ she told him.

      Luke came to a sudden decision. He had not employed Doug Reasdale; his uncle had. But the man clearly needed teaching a few of the basic skills of management—not to mention a little compassion. ‘Neither am I. And I think I’d better help you to get everything fixed, don’t you? It’s going to take for ever if you do it on your own.’

      Holly’s heart thumped frantically beneath her breast. ‘And why would you do that?’

      ‘I should have thought that was fairly obvious. Because I have a moral obligation, as your landlord. The place should never have been rented out to you in this condition.’ And that much, at least, was true. He told himself that his offer had absolutely nothing to do with the way her eyes flashed like emeralds, her lips curved like rubies when she smiled that disbelieving and grateful smile at him. ‘So what do you say?’

      She couldn’t think of a thing. She felt like wrapping her arms tightly around his neck to thank him for his generosity, but the thought of how he might react to that made her feel slightly nervous. There was something about Luke Goodwin which didn’t invite affection from women. Sex, maybe, but not affection. ‘What can I say?’ she managed eventually. ‘Other than a big thank you?’

      ‘Promise me that if you can’t cope, then you’ll call on me.’

      ‘But I don’t know where you live.’

      ‘Come here,’ he said softly. He gestured for her to join him by the window, where the yellow light was fast fading like a dying match in the winter sky. He pointed. ‘See that house through the arched hedge?’

      It was difficult not to—the place was a mansion by most people’s standards! ‘That’s yours?’ she asked.

      ‘Yes, it is. So if it all gets too much, or if you change your mind, then just walk on right up to the door and knock. Any time.’ Blue eyes fixed her with their piercing blaze. ‘And you’ll be quite safe there—I promise. Okay?’

      ‘Okay,’ Holly agreed slowly, though instinct told her that seeking help from a man like Luke might have its own particular drawbacks.

       CHAPTER THREE

      AS SOON as Luke got home, he phoned Doug Reasdale, his late uncle’s letting agent—a man he had just about been able to tolerate down the echoed lines of a long-distance phone call from Africa. He suspected that this time around he might have a little difficulty hanging onto his temper.

      ‘Doug? It’s Luke Goodwin here.’

      ‘Luke!’ oozed Doug effusively. ‘Well, what do you know? Hi, man—how’s it going? Good to have you back!’

      ‘After sixteen years away, you mean?’ observed Luke rather drily. He had met Doug once, briefly, when he had flown over for his uncle’s funeral earlier in the year. Luke and the agent were about the same age, which Doug had obviously taken as a sign of true male camaraderie since he had spent the afternoon being relentlessly chummy and drinking whisky like water.

      ‘It’s actually very good to be back,’ Luke said, realising to his surprise that he meant it.

      ‘So what can I do you for?’ quizzed Doug. ‘House okay?’

      ‘The house is fine. Beautiful, in fact.’ He paused. ‘I’m not ringing about the house.’

      ‘Oh?’

      ‘Does the name Holly Lovelace ring a bell?’

      There was a low whistling noise down the phone.

      ‘Reddish hair and big green eyes? Legs that go on for ever? Breasts you could spend the rest of your life dreaming about? Just taken over the lease of the vacant shop?’ laughed Doug raucously. ‘Tell me about her!’

      Luke’s skin chilled and he was filled with an uncharacteristic urge to do violence. ‘Is it customary to speak about leaseholders in such an over-familiar manner?’ he asked coldly.

      Doug clearly did not have the most sensitive antennae in the world. ‘Well, no,’ he admitted breezily. ‘Not usually. But then they don’t usually look like Holly Lovelace.’ His voice deepened. ‘Mind you—not that I think she’s much of a goer—’

      ‘I’m sorry?’ Luke spoke with all the iced disapproval and disbelief he could muster.

      ‘Well, she’s got that kind of wild and free look—know what I mean? Wears those floaty kind of dresses—but oddly enough she was as prim as a nun the day I took her to lunch.’

      ‘You took her out to lunch?’ Luke demanded incredulously.

      ‘Sure. Can you blame me?’

      Luke ignored the question. ‘And do you do that with all prospective leaseholders?’

      ‘Well, no, actually.’ Doug gave a nervous laugh. ‘But, like I said, she’s not someone you’d forget in a hurry.’

      Luke forced himself to concentrate on the matter in hand, and not on how much he was going to enjoy firing his land agent once he had found a suitable replacement. ‘What do you think of the current condition of the property, Doug?’

      Another nervous laugh. ‘It’s been empty for ages.’

      ‘I’m not surprised, and that doesn’t really answer my question—what do you think of the condition?’

      ‘It’s basic,’ Doug admitted. ‘But that’s why she got it so cheap—’

      ‘Basic? The place is a slum! The roof in the upstairs flat is leaking,’ he said coldly. ‘Were you aware?’

      ‘I knew there—’

      ‘The window-frames are ill-fitting and the furniture looks like it’s been salvaged from the local dump,’ interrupted Luke savagely. ‘I want everything fixed that can be fixed, and replaced if it can’t. And I want it done yesterday!’

      ‘But that’s going to cost you money!’ objected Doug. ‘A lot of money.’

      ‘I’d managed to work that out for myself,’ drawled Luke.

      ‘And it’s going to eat into your profit margins, Luke.’

      Luke kept his voice low. ‘I don’t make profit on other people’s misery or discomfort,’ he said.