about how long Saffy intended to stay out of sight. Always assuming she was thinking that rationally.
‘Adam!’ she protested as she turned the carton over, searching for instructions.
‘I’m sorry. I can plan a takeover bid to the last millisecond, but I’m out of my depth here.’
‘Then get help.’
‘I’m doing my best,’ he replied. ‘If you’d just cooperate we could both get on with our lives.’
May was struggling to keep up a calm, distant front. She’d been struggling ever since he’d stood beneath the tree in the park. Used that ridiculous name.
Inside, everything was in turmoil. Her heart, her pulse were racing.
‘Please, Adam…’ Her voice caught in her throat. He couldn’t mean it. He was just torturing her…‘Don’t…’
He lifted his hand, cradling her cheek to still her protest. His touch was gentle. A warm soothing balm that swept through her, taking the tension out of her joints so that her body swayed towards him.
‘It wouldn’t be that bad, would it, Mouse?’
Bad? How much worse could it get?
‘It seems a little…extreme,’ she said, resisting with all her will the yearning need to lean into his palm. Surrender everything, including her honour.
‘Losing your home, your business, is extreme,’ he insisted. ‘Getting married is just a piece of paper.’
Not for her…
‘A mutually beneficial contract to be cancelled at the convenience of both parties,’ he added. ‘Think of Robbie, May. Where will she go if you lose the house?’
‘She’s got a pension. A sister…’
‘Your business,’ he persisted.
The bank loan…
‘And what about your animals? Who else will take them in? You know that most of them will have to be put down.’
‘Don’t!’ she said, her throat so tight that the words were barely audible.
‘Hey,’ he said, pulling her into her arms so that the three of them were locked together. ‘I’m your trusty sidekick, remember? As always, late on the scene but ready to leap into action when you need a helping hand.’
‘This is a bit more than a helping hand.’
‘Hand, foot and pretty much everything in between,’ he agreed. ‘Take your pick.’
He was doing his best to make her laugh, she realised, or maybe cry.
Either would be appropriate under the circumstances. What would her mother have done? Spit in the devil’s eye? Or screw the patriarchal system, using it against itself to keep both her house and her freedom?
Stupid question. Heaven knew that she was not her mother. If she’d had her courage she’d be long gone. But all she had was her home. Robbie. The creatures that relied on her. The life she’d managed to make for herself.
As for breaking the promise to her grandfather, her punishment for that was built into the bargain of a barren marriage with a self-destruct date.
‘May?’ he prompted.
Decision time.
What decision…? There was only ever going to be one answer and, taking a deep breath, her heart beating ten times faster than when she’d climbed that tree, her voice not quite steady, she said, ‘You’re absolutely sure about this? Last chance.’
‘Quite sure,’ he replied, his own voice as steady as a rock. No hint of doubt, no suggestion of intestinal collywobbles on his part. ‘It’s a no-brainer.’
‘No…’ she said, wondering why, even now, she was hesitating.
‘No?’
‘I mean yes. You’re right. It’s a no-brainer.’
‘Shall we aim for something a little more decisive?’ he suggested. ‘Just so that we know exactly where we stand?’
‘You’re not planning on going down on one knee?’ she demanded, appalled.
‘Heaven forbid. Just something to seal the bargain,’ he said, taking his hand from her back and offering it to her.
‘A handshake?’ she said, suddenly overcome with the urgent need to laugh as she lifted her own to clasp it. ‘Well, why not? Everything else appears to be shaking.’
As his hand tightened around hers, everything stilled. Even Nancie stopped nuzzling and grumbling. All she could hear was her pulse pounding through her ears. All she could see were his eyes. Not the bright silver of the boy she’d known but leaden almost unreadable. A shiver ran through her as he closed the gap between them, kissed her, but then she closed her eyes and all sense of danger evaporated in the heat of his mouth, the taste of him and the cherished bittersweet memory flooded back.
It was different. He was different.
The kiss was assured, certain and yet, beneath it all, she recognised the boy who’d lain with her in the stable loft and kissed her, undressed her, touched her. And for a moment she was no longer the woman who’d subjugated her yearning for love, for a family of her own into caring for her grandfather, creating a business, building some kind of life for herself.
As Adam’s lips touched hers, she was that girl again and an aching need opened up before her, a dizzying void that tempted her to plunge headlong into danger, to throw caution to the winds and boldly kiss him back.
‘Oh…’
At the sound of Robbie’s shocked little exclamation, May stumbled back, heat rushing to her face.
That girl reliving the moment of guilt, embarrassment, pain when they’d been discovered…
‘Robbie…’
‘I thought I heard you come in earlier,’ she said.
‘I had a fall. In the park. Adam came to my rescue.’
‘That would account for the kitten, then,’ she said stiffly. ‘And the trousers hanging over the Aga.’
‘We both got rather muddy,’ Adam said.
‘I’m sure it’s nothing to do with me what you were doing in the park,’ Robbie said, ignoring him. ‘But Jeremy is here.’
‘Jeremy?’ she repeated, struggling to gather her wits.
‘He’s brought the designs for the honey labels.’
‘Has he? Oh, right…’ Expanding honey production had been part of the future she’d planned and Jeremy Davidson had volunteered to design the labels for her.
‘He’s
