or Ravi or me — any of us. Don’t feel you have to cope alone.’
‘What about when you’ve all gone and I’m still here trying to get to grips with this stupid machine?’ She flicked a contemptuous glance at the computer, and Leo laughed.
‘Does it still hate you?’
‘Does it ever,’ she grumbled.
‘You need a break — have supper with me tonight.’
She realised she was still standing in his arms, although she wasn’t crushed up against him any more, but she might just as well have been because she could feel the warmth of his body, could remember the feel of it, long and hard and lean, all sleek, solid muscle and sinew, terrifyingly, overwhelming male.
She stepped back a little further. ‘I don’t think that would be a good idea,’ she said as firmly as she could manage.
‘Why?’
‘I — I just don’t …’ she floundered.
His grin was wicked. ‘Not good enough. Come on, you’ve finished here for the night.’
He flicked off her terminal, stacked her books back on to the shelf and held out his hand. ‘Come.’
‘What if I don’t want to?’ she said defensively.
He sighed. ‘You’re lying again, Abbie,’ he teased in a soft, sing-song voice.
Her mouth firmed in defiance. ‘I have to study.’
‘Cobblers,’ he said rudely. ‘Come on. We’ll pick up a take-away.’
Her stomach rumbled loudly at the thought, and he chuckled. ‘Co-operation at last!’
‘Only from my involuntary muscles —— ’
‘That’ll do for a start. I realise that aggravating mouth of yours will take a little longer to tame. Come on — and say, Yes, Leo.’
She sighed. ‘Yes, Leo.’
‘Better. Now come on.’
She assumed they’d have fish and chips, or a Chinese at the outside, but the little town surprised her. Tucked away in a narrow alley off the main street was a tiny but immaculate kebab house owned and run by a Greek Cypriot who, Leo said, had come over from Cyprus at the time of the Turkish invasion in the early seventies and stayed ever since.
The shop, predictably, was called Spiro’s, and Spiro himself was almost circular, balding and grumbled constantly about the price of lamb and the rubbish at the market.
Leo, commiserating, bought shish kebabs in pitta pockets groaning with salad, and they ate them in the car looking out over a field because they were both too hungry to wait any longer. Despite Spiro’s complaints the quality was superb, and Abbie ate every last bit and even pinched a bit of Leo’s second one.
Then he drove her back to his house, a cottage on a quiet lane about two miles from the town centre, and the evening sun gleamed on the windows and on the glowing banks of perennials that flanked the path, the magenta of the crane’s bill, the green and white of the lady’s-mantle, the tall spires of the hollyhocks nodding at the back behind the white and yellow daisies.
‘Oh, how pretty!’ Abbie said, enchanted, and Leo let them in, retrieved a bottle of wine and two glasses and took her for a stroll round the garden.
The evening was much cooler than the day had been, and she was able to enjoy the mellow air and the sweetly scented roses that graced the soft pink walls.
‘How do you manage it all?’ she asked, incredulous, after he had finished his guided tour.
He laughed softly. ‘Me? I wouldn’t know a dandelion from a primula! I have a gardener who comes in twice a week and cuts the grass and keeps the beds in order.’
‘He does a wonderful job,’ she said admiringly, glancing round again at the riot of colour that filled every corner.
‘She. Yes, she’s excellent, I have to say. When I moved here the garden was a mess, but she’s worked wonders.’
‘She?’ Abbie said with a teasing grin. ‘I might have known.’
‘Of course. She’s tall, blonde and very, very lovely.’ He grinned back. ‘She’s also in her late forties and a grandmother. I swear she’s stronger than I am, and she’s definitely no competition to you, Abigail, my love, so you needn’t get all jealous.’
She looked away hastily. ‘I’m not your love, Leo, and I don’t intend to be. And I’m certainly not jealous!’ She glanced at her watch. ‘Look, I really ought to get on. I’ve got studying I should be doing, and I’m sure you’ve got better things to do ——’
He laughed softly. ‘Running, Abbie?’
‘Not at all,’ she blustered, but she was, and they both knew it.
He took pity on her, though, and drove her back to the surgery so that she could collect her car.
As she unlocked the door, she became suddenly, startlingly aware of his body close behind her. His hand, warm and hard, closed over her shoulder and turned her gently towards him.
‘Leo?’ she said breathlessly, and then her protest, such as it was, was cut off by his lips as they covered hers in a feather-light caress.
‘Goodnight, Abigail,’ he murmured softly, and then he turned on his heel and walked back to his car.
Shaken, she unlocked her door and slid behind the wheel, her limbs trembling. He was waiting for her to start the car and drive away, she thought dimly, so mechanically she turned the key, backed out and drove off.
After a moment she realised he was flashing his lights furiously at her, and she pulled over.
He leapt out of his car and ran towards her. She wound down the window just far enough to talk to him but not so far that he could kiss her again—just in case.
‘What do you want?’ she asked nervously.
‘Me? That’s an interesting thought.’
‘Leo ——’
‘You didn’t have your lights on.’
She blinked. ‘Oh — right. Thanks.’
His grin was infuriating. ‘My pleasure. I didn’t realise one little kiss would throw you so badly.’
‘It’s nothing to do with your kiss!’ she protested, and the grin widened.
‘You’re telling porkie-pies again, Abbie, darling,’ he murmured, and, slipping his hand through the partly-open window, he brushed her cheek with his knuckles.
It sent a shiver through her, as did his softly voiced, ‘Sleep well, princess. Dream of me.’
She closed her eyes. ‘Leo, go away,’ she said
