Blind Dates and Other Disasters: The Wedding Wish. Элли Блейк

fit in. Now you’re one ofus.’

      She turned away to give instructions to an earnest young man with a clipboard. She was efficient. She liked being in control.

      And then he realised: she was happy because he had done what she wanted him to do. He bristled, hating the feeling of being constrained, of being dared to make a choice not his own.

      He was a free man with nothing and no one holding him down. He had lived that other life, being beholden to someone else’s needs and wishes. And he never wanted to go that way again. Then he stopped himself.

      Relax. It’s a pair of shoes. This is one afternoon. You can give over to someone else’s wishes for one afternoon. It’s not like you will be giving over the decision-making to the woman for a lifetime.

      A lifetime. And he remembered. She was on the hunt for a husband and had convinced Ben to help her.

      Why? She was gorgeous. Slim, with curves in all the right places and the sort of lush dark hair any man would love to run his fingers through. And he knew those legs of hers were long, lithe, and smooth, though right now half hidden beneath those ridiculous rubber boots.

      She had been attracting plenty of interested looks since she had walked in, and earlier his men had practically tripped over each other for the sake of one of her smiles.

      Jacob observed a couple of well-dressed sorts on the other side of the tent obviously talking about her. And he felt an unexpected urge to go to her. To shield her from their view. To defend her against their scrutiny.

      She must have caught him watching her as she raised her eyebrows in question. She held up a finger to tell him she would only be a moment.

      Her face was so open. She smiled, she frowned, and every thought was out there for all to see. And as he watched her face became more familiar and comfortable every second. It was not long before he felt as if he knew every expression her lovely face could generate.

      Finally, she came over and slumped into a chair beside him and at once in such close proximity, away from the beer and the sweaty men, a sudden sweet scent drifted his way. It was heady and rich, like jasmine. It was her. And it rocked him.

      Trouble. The word rang unbidden in his head. Without even trying, this one could prove to be a whole truckload of trouble. He should go. Back to his corporate box. Back to the office. Back to the other side of the world.

      He should. But he couldn’t. Not yet, anyway. ‘You are a workhorse, Ms Denison,’ he said, his tone chatty.

      ‘All for the good of the racecourse,’ she said.

      ‘And all for the good of Cloud Nine’s coffers.’

      ‘Not this one, I’m afraid. This one is my own little baby and Cloud Nine have learnt to look the other way.’

      ‘You are doing all this for nothing?’

      ‘Don’t get me wrong. I’m not footing the bill for all this grandeur. The costs for the day will come out of the takings, but I promise it will turn a very tidy profit.’

      ‘Of which you will see not a cent?’ Jacob could not believe he had heard right.

      Holly laughed. ‘You are such a doubting Thomas, Mr Lincoln. I promise I will not see even forty cents for a phone call.’

      ‘Why?’

      ‘These fundraisers make enough every year to keep the place running. If I took my usual percentage the day would be redundant.’

      ‘But why here? Why this place? You said before you never bet. Do you just love the greyhounds that much?’

      She pulled a face. ‘Not at all. The whole half-starved puppies chasing a rabbit thing doesn’t do it for me. It’s just for the colonel, really.’

      ‘How do you know him so well?’

      She opened her mouth to answer but seemed to think better of it. She glanced around as though searching for a reason, or maybe a change of subject, and seemed to visibly relax when she saw the colonel coming her way.

      ‘Holly, my sweet!’ he said, his arms outstretched, ready to take her in.

      She stood and gave the old man a big hug. Jacob felt an uncomfortable contraction in his chest at the sudden change in her. With him she was still the cool, confident, modern Melbourne woman, but in the company of the right person she blossomed into a completely different creature. Her smiles were softer, sweeter, with an abundant capacity for effortless delight.

      ‘Charlie. Are you having a good time?’ ‘Always, my pet.’

      ‘Are you ready for your speech? You are up in about ten minutes.’

      ‘No problem. You are a sweet girl.’ The colonel turned to Jacob. ‘Our little mascot she was, always running around underfoot. Long hair flying behind her as she ran about the grandstands collecting old tickets, looking for the one that got away.’

      A snippet of conversation from the grandstand snuck back into Jacob’s consciousness. Not knowing how to fit the mismatched pieces into her story, he felt the fragment flutter away.

      ‘And look at that little scar.’ The colonel pointed at the bridge of Holly’s nose and, though she swatted his hand away playfully, Jacob thought he saw a moment of panic in her action. ‘Barely there now. All healed.’

      Holly cut the colonel off, grabbing him around the middle and dragging him away, rolling her expressive blue eyes behind his back. ‘Anyway, Charlie, it’s all well and good taking us down amnesia lane, but it’s time to get you to the stage. Excuse us, Jacob.’

      And this time when she smiled it was just for him. And he knew, despite his very sensible inner protests, he was not going anywhere any time soon.

      The colonel’s speech went brilliantly. It was funny, sweet, and tender enough to have those listening make enough donations to run the old Hidden Valley Greyhound Course for another good year.

      Jacob and Ben had waited for Holly. The other guys had gone back to the city to finish off their celebration, minus their guest of honour, and Holly offered to drop the two men home.

      As the sun set over the all but empty racecourse they crossed the track in companionable silence. The ground had dried somewhat and they were all now in regular footwear. Though Holly, in her high heels, had a little trouble matching their long strides.

      ‘Isn’t this where you are supposed to lay down your coats for me?’ she asked the men.

      ‘I thought that was only for a queen,’ Ben said from a few steps ahead of them.

      ‘And we know you are only a princess,’ Jacob whispered against her ear, sending thrilling hot shivers down the back of her neck. Holly poked out her tongue, though inside she was feeling far from flippant.

      No matter how often she reminded herself of her perfectly good theory, she was beginning to sense there was more going on behind Jacob’s taciturn gaze than she had at first thought. For instance, what sort of man would have the strength of personality to be able to persuade an alcoholic to drink lemonade in a public bar?

      But maybe that was not the point. Maybe the theory just needed a little tweak. Maybe her archetypal Mr Standoffish was born with a conscience; just not with the commitment gene. He could be attractive as Adonis, and as intelligent as Plato, but would he be devoted as say, Ben?

      That she very much doubted.

      Jacob pressed a gentle hand to her back as they reached the gate to the car park. She leapt away from him as though his warm fingers were laced with fire. He did not seem to notice, he just kept herding her through the space and dropped his hand casually as they reached her car.

      First Holly dropped Jacob back to the Lincoln Holdings offices where he was planning to put in a few more hours. He hopped out of the car, then peered through the driver window.

      ‘Thanks for the lift.’