tacks he was scared of losing.
Siena vaguely remembered the mention of a Norah from some of Laurie’s recent emails.
‘I thought Norah worked for Uncle Miles. Wasn’t she the housekeeper?’ mused Siena out loud which was stupid because the driver was hardly going to know.
Could a scowl get any deeper? ‘She still is. He’s dead obviously but she’s still the housekeeper at the house.’
‘OK,’ said Siena still doing her best to keep her smile up despite his quelling expression and the confusing information.
Siena felt she’d strayed into very dangerous territory but had no idea what had tipped it over into a fully operational minefield. Any minute now, this rather scary but gorgeous man, might blow. It unnerved her. People were usually nice to her. Most people. It seemed safest to keep smiling and not irritate him further by saying anything. Although her smiles didn’t seem to be having much effect on his mood. The silence stretched out between them until eventually with an exasperated huff, he spoke.
‘Norah is eighty-six,’ he said it slowly followed by a laboured pause, ‘Laurie said she couldn’t just abandon her.’
‘Yes, of course not.’ Siena’s cheeks were starting to hurt but she persevered.
‘So she asked me to pick you up.’
‘Ok, well … Hi, I’m – you know who I am. Laurie’s sister.’
‘I know exactly who you are,’ he replied dryly.
Did he have to make it sound as if she were so unsavoury? She was house trained.
‘Is that your luggage?’ He pointed to her cabin bag and the bulging duty free bag.
She nodded. The cabin bag did look a bit sad on its own but there’d been no time to pack properly. Luckily she’d been able to stock up on all the essentials in duty free.
‘Yes, it’s not much but I need to buy my spring wardrobe soon anyway, so I figured I might as well do it while I’m here. So, yes that’s it, I’m afraid.’
He gave her a dirty look. ‘It’s not a problem, I promise you.’ Without another word he set off, deliberately walking at speed as if to keep a healthy distance between them.
‘Er, excuse me?’ she called after him. He turned. ‘Haven’t you forgotten something?’ He might be a poor excuse for a driver but he should still do the basics. ‘My bags?’
Blue eyes burned bright with indignation and he shook his head, muttering under his breath. He snatched the bags up and marched off. No tip for him then. Oh hell, they used sterling in England didn’t they? There were only euros in her purse.
Following, she tried to keep up with his long-legged stride.
Maybe this had been a terrible idea. Her phone buzzed in her pocket and she snatched it up. Laurie? No, Maman. Her diaphragm tensed and for a minute she couldn’t breathe. Flash. Flash. Flash. Like a lighthouse, the beam on her iPhone pulsed with urgency. She stopped and stared down, her finger hovering over the screen.
Ahead of her the man had stopped and turned.
‘Going to get that? Or just stare at it all night. Some of us have places to be in the morning.’
She sighed and caught up with him. Once they got to the car, he would be driving and she could get in the back and sleep until they got to Laurie’s house in Leighton Buzzard. She had no idea what part of London that was or how long it would take to get there but it felt easier not to ask him.
Siena skidded to a halt but didn’t dare open her mouth. He had to be kidding. What sort of Mickey Mouse outfit did this guy work for?
‘Come on,’ he growled over his shoulder as he unlocked the boot of the mud-covered Land Rover. ‘It’s already after midnight.’
‘Seriously?’ She stared at the dirty green paintwork, unconsciously echoing his earlier phrase. ‘This is your car?’
‘Seriously yes. It’s my car. But don’t worry, there is an alternative.’
‘Thank goodness for that.’ She looked around the car park and spotted a pristine black Mercedes parked two bays along. ‘Where?’
He looked down, his eyes travelling the length of her legs to the floor. She followed his gaze.
‘What?’
‘You’re looking at them.’
She flushed. Tossing her head she crossed to the door of the car, with as much froideur as she could manage, opened it and hauled herself in. It was a long way up. Half way, she realised her mistake.
He stood by the door grinning holding a set of keys. ‘Missing something.’
She slid back out, refusing to look at him, keeping her face totally impassive and walked around the back of the car to the passenger seat. So, she was used to left hand drive cars, he didn’t need to be mean about it.
This horrible thing looked Spartan and uncomfortable. Unlikely she’d be taking a nap. Even climbing up was ungainly and her tight jeans protested, cutting sharply into her thighs. Immediately her feet were buried ankle deep in white paper bags, Coke cans and disposable coffee cups.
A pervading scent of manure and sweaty socks filled the vehicle. You couldn’t call it a car; it wasn’t civilised enough.
Years of being instilled with impeccable manners didn’t prevent her involuntary shudder. His eyes sharpened for a moment and she thought she’d offended him again. Although he seemed pretty easily offended.
‘Sorry about the mess. I wasn’t expecting passengers today.’
‘Were you ever?’ The words slipped out before she could stop them.
His head shot round and his dark eyes flashed with the closest thing to approval she’d yet seen. He gave her a rueful smile. ‘You got me there. No, this is my work horse.’ He patted the dashboard affectionately as he glanced down at her feet which she’d used to push the mass of litter to one side. There was a rustle as a couple of Coke cans tumbled together.
‘Ugh,’ she clutched her knees in her hand lifting her feet above the mess, ‘you haven’t got rats in here have you?’
A mischievous glint danced in his eyes and his face lit up with a sudden cheerful smile. ‘It’s a distinct possibility.’ And with that he started the engine, which coughed into life with a noisy, diesel fuelled rumble.
Siena sneaked a surreptitious look at his profile as he concentrated on manoeuvring the beast out of the car park. Now they were in the car his temper seemed to have abated. He seemed a tiny bit more human and, she had to admit, very good-looking in an unpolished way. Not that he was her kind of man. Too scruffy and masculine. Butch. Far too butch. Dark stubble shaded his chin and cheeks, emphasising the strong lines of his face and heavy jawline. Put him in a decent suit and he’d brush up nicely, although his arms and legs seemed rather muscular. Powerful. She tucked her hands under her legs and shrank into her seat.
Yves had a completely different
