His Perfect Bride?. Louisa Heaton

compliment. ‘Thank you. I try to be. So …?’

      ‘So …?’

      ‘Will you drive in front? Show me where the cottage is?’

       Of course! Idiot! Stupid!

      ‘Sure. But let’s make sure your car starts first.’

      ‘Oh, she always does.’

      ‘She?’

      ‘Betsy.’

      ‘Your car is called Betsy?’

      ‘Betsy the Bug.’ She stopped in front of a red car with large black polka dots on it, like a ladybird.

      Once again Olly was left standing mute and blinking. After a moment he managed, ‘Cute.’

      ‘I think so. Here—why don’t you put that large one in the front? This small one can go in the boot.’

      Her engine rumbled into life straight away and he pointed out his four-wheel drive, further up the road. Lula said that she’d wait for him and he walked back up to his car, his boots crunching in the snow, muttering to himself.

       ‘Dad, I’m going to kill you … What on earth have you done?’

      As a choice of locum she was a tad … out there. Not the sort of locum he’d expected his father to hire. There had to have been plenty of other doctors he might have chosen from. Sensible, sedate people. The type to blend in with village life.

      Not this firecracker …

      His four-wheel drive started first time and he indicated to pull out, noticing her following him through the high street. He took a left and kept looking in his rearview mirror to make sure she was still there. Still following.

      He thought of his ‘perfect wife’ list.

      She didn’t match any of the items on it.

      But he felt mysteriously intrigued by her.

      Bewitching. That’s what she is.

      Lula followed Olly through the village roads, realizing she’d made a big mistake. When she’d come for her interview with Patrick, she’d known she was getting involved with a father-and-son team and that had seemed fine. But Patrick was a silver-haired fox, with sparkling, kind eyes, and she should have just known that the son was going to be drop-dead gorgeous. However, she hadn’t worried too much about it. She’d concentrated much more on her other reason for coming to Atlee Wold and assumed that Patrick’s son would be just another person to work with.

      But when he’d walked into that village hall … It had been as if a film star had walked in. She’d half expected to see paparazzi following him in. Gorgeous and sexy, yet a down-to-earth guy. She’d tried to ignore him so that she could carry on with her class. She’d even stumbled over her steps. But thankfully no one had seemed to notice.

      And now she was following him. Through the snowy streets. In Betsy. Following his old jalopy.

      Olly had pulled up outside a small thatched cottage surrounded by tall briar wood. It looked pretty, and she could only imagine how gorgeous it might look in the summertime, with its white walls and blue roses, butterflies and bees flitting about the place. There was an arched trellis over the front door, with what looked like an ancient Russian vine growing over it.

      It really wasn’t that far from the GP surgery, or the village hall, and she hoped that tomorrow she could try walking in to work. She had a pair of wellies somewhere in one of the boxes she already had in the car. A small removals lorry would drop off her other stuff tomorrow.

      He stood back so she could make fresh tracks in the snow to the front door, and then he passed her a key.

      Smiling, she took it and tried to reassure him. ‘Don’t worry—I’ll look after the place.’

      ‘I’m sure you will. Shall we get the lights on, the fire burning and then get your boxes in?’

      Lula nodded. ‘Sounds great.’ Though it might be a bit awkward, the two of them alone before a roaring fire …

      The key turned easily and she pushed open the door, wondering what to expect. Patrick had agreed to let the cottage out to her at a reduced rate and the price was very reasonable. She certainly wouldn’t be able to get a place in London at the rate he’d given her—not even a bedsit! And here she was with the key to a beautiful, thatched, two-bedroom cottage.

      Inside, she found the light switches and gasped in delight. The low roof created an immediate intimacy in the small rooms. The lounge furniture was covered in white sheets, but when she removed them she found old, chintzy chairs, with scatter cushions made from patchwork, and an old green leather sofa. The walls were whitewashed, with exposed dark beams, and there was a good-sized fireplace already stacked with logs.

      ‘Shall I start the fire for you?’ Olly said.

      Lula smiled. ‘That’s okay. I can do it. Why don’t you get me those boxes from Betsy?’

      He nodded, but she could tell he would have been a lot happier playing with the fire.

      Typical man.

      She liked Olly already. He was charming and old-fashioned and very English. He had classic good looks, with dark blond hair and bright blue eyes like Chris Hems-worth. Just my type. But, despite the handsome looks and the knockout body, she hoped she didn’t have to worry about there being an attraction between them whilst they worked. It wasn’t the sort of thing she was looking for. Not here. There were other reasons for her being in Atlee Wold and romance wasn’t one of them.

      The firelighters worked quickly and Lula soon had a bright orange flame licking at the wood. There was a stack of old newspapers to one side, and she screwed up a few and inserted them into gaps in the wood to help it. Soon the crackling flames had taken hold and the fire began to build. She stood warming her hands as Olly came barging in, carrying the larger of her two blanketed boxes.

      ‘What’s in this thing?’

      She took it from him, looked around and saw a table in the corner that looked suitable. Setting the box down, she freed the blanket and whipped it off. ‘Say hello to Nefertiti and Cleo!’

      She saw him take a step back, his mouth open in shock and horror. ‘Are they … rats?’

      Lula grinned and bit her lip as she stooped down to open the door of the cage and both rats—one dark brown and one pure white with pink eyes—climbed out onto her hands and ran up her arm to sit on her shoulder. ‘Dumbo rats. Aren’t they beautiful?’

      He looked carefully at her, as if judging her sanity. ‘They’re rats.’

      ‘They’re very intelligent animals.’

      ‘So are dolphins, but you don’t have two of those, do you?’ He watched the rats play around under the dark wisps of Lula’s hair, their noses and whiskers twitching. Then he had a sudden dreadful thought. ‘What’s in the other box? The one in the boot of your car?’

      Lula grinned. ‘Anubis. You’d better get him—he’s on a heat pad especially.’

      Olly put his hands on his hips. ‘What is Anubis?’

      She tilted her head to one side, amused by his reaction. ‘I’ll get him. Here.’

      She reached up and took hold of the two rats from under her hair and planted them on his shoulder. She could see how he froze and winced and twitched at each of their movements as they gave him a good sniff. Their little pink noses and whiskers tickled his ears.

      Olly stood frozen, as if rigor mortis had set in. ‘Please hurry.’

      Lula chuckled, threw her jacket on and rushed out into the snow. Pretty soon she came back with the smaller blanketed box and put it on the coffee table. There was a cable and plug for this one, and when she pressed the wall switch a small light came