Fraser,’ boomed a commanding voice from behind them. ‘Spare me a minute or two if you please.’
An alarming-looking woman with bright red hair, thick spectacles and a heavy jaw pushed her way next to Ally.
‘Oh, Phoebe. How are you this evening?’
‘Tolerable, dear. But I’ve deadlines to meet. Can you answer a couple of quick questions?’
Ally shot Fletcher a swift, mildly apologetic glance and nodded. ‘Fire away.’
‘What I want, darling,’ the redhead began, shoving a small tape recorder under Ally’s nose, ‘is for you to sum up in a nutshell...who you’re trying to appeal to...who you expect to wear your clothes...who is going to connect with them.’
‘But I’ve told you all that many times,’ Ally protested.
‘New show, new comments,’ the journalist shot back, her eyes hard and unsympathetic.’
‘Very well,’ replied Ally after only a moment’s hesitation. ‘I think my clients are people who are looking for value...for something contemporary, but with classical elegance as well...’
She felt a strong hand pat her heartily on the back and looked up to catch Fletcher winking at her.
There were more questions which Ally answered as best she could, but the whole time she was terribly con scious of the way Fletcher’s hand stayed there, resting on her bare shoulder. Her skin beneath the warm hand tingled deliciously in response.
‘And are you planning to launch a range of perfumes, like some of the other more successful designers?’ Phoebe was asking.
Ally wavered. This was something she had been considering, but it was too soon to talk about it.
‘Good question,’ cut in Fletcher. ‘And when we have the answer to that, you’ll be the first to know. We’ll give you an exclusive, but for now we have another engagement.’
‘Who are you?’ spluttered Phoebe, looking up at Fletcher, her red-painted mouth agape.
‘I’m Ms. Fraser’s public relations consultant. It was very nice of you to give us your attention, but I’m afraid that’s all we have time for.’
Ally gave a startled gasp, but the hand on her shoulder remained firmly in place as she felt herself gently but purposefully led away.
‘What do you think you’re doing?’ she cried, twisting around to face him.
‘Ssh. I’ll explain in a minute.’
Frowning, and with lips pursed, Ally walked quietly beside Fletcher until they made their way through the throng and reached the main door of the ballroom.
‘OK, now tell me what you’re doing,’ she demanded, still frowning and with her arms crossed over her chest.
‘I’m abducting you,’ he said quietly.
Then as she opened her mouth to retaliate, Fletcher placed a finger over her lips. ‘I’m taking you away, because you’re the most intriguing woman I’ve ever seen and I don’t have much time in Melbourne and...we don’t have time for all the social niceties.’
They stood staring at one another, his finger still warm on her lips. Ally was stunned.
‘But my career hangs on these interviews,’ she stammered.
‘Do you really think so?’
She hesitated. It was a question she’d asked herself many times. She had always tried to ‘do the right thing.’ It was the way she’d been brought up, but she knew that little of what she’d actually said to a journalist ever appeared in print and usually when it did, she was furious at being misquoted.
Fletcher continued. ‘These journos have already made their notes and taken their photographs. And they’ve already made up their minds about your clothes. Now all they want is free food and grog, to be seen with celebrities and to catch up on the hot gossip.’
Ally suspected that he was right. And, she reflected, she’d placed work before pleasure for so long now that she could hardly remember the last time she’d given in to capricious self-indulgence. If she hadn’t been so certain this man was going to be incredibly important to her, she might have wavered. But her mind was too distracted by the thrill of intense excitement and heady anticipation she’d felt from the moment she first saw him. And that simple touch of his hand on her shoulder had seduced her body more surely than the most concerted efforts of any of her previous admirers. She could have been making the biggest mistake of her life, but suddenly she didn’t care. Being with Fletcher Hardy became the only possible option.
‘Where would you like to go?’ she asked with a smile.
‘Do you like Thai food?’
‘Love it.’
They took a taxi to the best Thai restaurant in the city.
‘You know Melbourne well?’ Ally asked as their taxi wove through the traffic.
‘Only the inner city area. I usually only come down for conferences once or twice a year.’
‘And these cows of yours. Beef or dairy?’
‘Beef. I own a cattle property on the Burdekin River. Wallaroo Downs.’
‘The Burdekin? That’s in North Queensland, isn’t it?’
‘Sure is.’
‘A long way from here.’ Ally tried not to sound too bothered by this news.
‘About three thousand kilometres.’
‘And you like living up there?’
‘Yes. I do.’ He slanted her a slow smile and stretched his arm along the back of the seat. ‘And I like visiting down here.’
The restaurant was fairly crowded, but there were still some tables to spare. The gleaming timber furniture, soft cream wool carpeting and enormous ceramic urns of beautiful fresh flowers provided a formal enough atmosphere for them to feel at ease in their elegant evening wear.
‘It’s been too long since I dined out,’ Fletcher commented after they were seated.
‘Well, at least you have an excuse,’ said Ally. ‘I don’t suppose there are too many restaurants on your block, but I’m surrounded by them and I still don’t indulge much.’
‘So, tonight is a treat for both of us,’ smiled Fletcher, and Ally wondered if she had ever seen quite such a sexy smile.
It was ridiculous to feel so excited, so expectant, as if she were a child on her birthday surrounded by beautifully tempting, as-yet-unopened presents, or a skydiver on the brink of a thrilling leap into the unknown.
She willed her stomach to stop fluttering as they chatted about the menu, discussed the food and wine, their likes and dislikes. When the waiter came, Fletcher pronounced the Thai dishes with surprising fluency.
‘You’ve
