big marquee? Your thank-you speech?’
He stopped nodding. ‘Oh.’
She studied him carefully for signs he had been drinking. He was sweating a little, but so was she in the hot, confined space. He was upright and his speech was not slurred. Shy of sniffing the drink in his hand she had no idea if he had been ‘tippling’ as Ben had suggested.
‘I suggest we let Charlie finish his lemonade,’ Jacob said, ‘then we can all head down and listen to this great speech of his. What do you say, Ms Denison?’
Lemonade? Holly looked up into Jacob’s face in amazement. Gone was the smirk. In its stead was a raised eyebrow, an easy smile. How had he known?
‘Sounds fair to me,’ Holly said, sending Jacob a terse nod of thanks.
The colonel downed the remainder of his lemonade with one swift, practised flick of his wrist. ‘Off we go then.’
Holly turned towards the front of the bar and found she was confronted once more by a seething mass of white shirts and ties. She physically dreaded forcing her way through the hot, sweaty throng. But then Jacob’s voice bellowed from just behind her.
‘Clear the way, gentlemen! The colonel is coming through.’
All of the men nearby acquiesced, and once the Chinese whispers spread through the place a clear, snaking path, an amazing sort of honour guard, formed from their table to the door. The colonel smoothed down his suit and with head held high traversed the way.
Holly felt a warm hand land softly in the small of her back. She turned to find Jacob bowing gallantly towards her, his face mere inches from her own.
‘Shall we, Ms Denison?’ He removed his warm hand and offered his elbow. She looked into his quixotic hazel eyes searching for a trap. Unfortunately they were as inscrutable as he chose them to be.
Ahead of her the extraordinary meandering path was threatening to collapse back in on itself. For once Jacob’s company seemed the lesser of two evils, so she took his arm and walked at his side.
The back of Holly’s hand rubbed against Jacob’s shirt-covered bicep, the sensation heated, intoxicating, reprehensible. Thankfully the awareness of that tantalising touch was shortlived, as soon the peripheral heat was all that registered.
The room was stifling, her view filled with sweaty, leering faces. Somebody trod on her foot and spinning around to apologise, they spilt drink down her side. She leapt back, clutching onto Jacob’s arm with both hands. He immediately wrapped a protective hand over the top of hers, its warmth and tenderness calming her a little.
Feeling claustrophobic, she closed her eyes, and allowed herself to be led the rest of the way blind. Only once bright sunlight lit the inside of her eyelids blood red did she open them.
Finding they were now in the big open space at the top of the grandstand, she hungrily inhaled the fresh, cool winter air, her breath releasing on a shudder.
She turned to thank Jacob but he was in conversation with two of his men, pointing towards the track where Race Three had just begun. And Holly knew she would not get any sense from any of them until the event was over.
The first two races had been won by the favourites and Holly expected no different ending to this one. She remained silent, unmoved as the dogs rounded the final bend.
The sparse crowd in the grandstand rose to its collective feet and the men in her own party jumped up and down, yelling and screaming, and clutching their betting slips in tight, agitated fists. The favourite, Sir Pete, was a nose behind, and the possibility of an upset electrified the air.
‘I don’t know why they get so excited,’ Holly muttered under her breath, ‘Sir Pete will win.’
‘Don’t bet on it,’ Jacob said equally quietly, his eyes bright.
‘I never would.’
Then, in the last twenty metres, Sir Pete put on a phenomenal burst of speed and finished two body lengths ahead of his nearest competitor.
‘I hate to lose,’ Jacob said through comically clenched teeth as he ceremoniously tore up his losing bet. ‘So pick the favourite.’
A huge grin broke out over his face, its effortless brilliance surprising her, catching her unawares and sending a blissful rush from her neck to her toes.
‘You are one surprising woman, Holly Denison.’
Definitely time to go back to her party.
CHAPTER SEVEN
ONLY when Holly made to follow her departing group did she find herself still attached to Jacob’s arm. Flicking him an apologetic smile, she released her steel grip. But he pulled her back until she was flush against him.
‘Not just yet, Ms Denison. Before I let you go, I have a question I simply must have answered.’
His voice was low and husky. His face was in shadow, and his dark hair in a halo of sunlight as he stood with his back to the sun.
‘Ask away,’ she said, her voice reedy.
‘What on earth are you wearing on your feet?’
Holly blinked. Looked at her feet. And grinned. In all the confusion, she had plum forgotten.
‘Haven’t you even seen a pair of galoshes before, Mr Lincoln?’
‘Of course. I have even seen ones that yellow before. But not, I must admit, on a grown woman, otherwise dressed to the hilt as you are. Is this some kind of fashion statement?’
‘Hmm. You have been away too long, haven’t you? Bright yellow galoshes are Melbourne’s must-have fashion item this winter.’
‘Throw out the little black dress?’ he asked.
Holly brought her spare hand to her heart and gasped in mock shock. ‘Gosh, no. Never. But wear with the little black dress? Of course.’
Jacob nodded, his expression deadly serious, as though impressed by her wealth of fashion knowledge. He eased her into a slow ramble towards the grandstand steps.
‘Now you’ve answered the what, do I get to hear thewhy?’
Holly paused a moment for effect. ‘So my feet don’t get wet.’
Jacob glanced at her sideways and raised one unconvinced eyebrow.
‘Okay. After last night’s downpour, I arrived this morning to find the ground below my marquee ankle-deep in mud. Rather than have guests whose only memory of the day would be their wet feet, and without having to move the whole shebang up to a dreary old conference room with no view of the track, I brought in enough galoshes and warm socks to shoe my entire guest list.’
As her tale unfurled Jacob stopped watching the group ahead of him, and concentrated fully on her, his eyes growing bright with delight.
‘And besides you, did anybody actually dare to wear them?’
