in his chest at the sudden change in her. With him she was still the cool, confident, modern Melbourne woman, but in the company of the right person she blossomed into a completely different creature. Her smiles were softer, sweeter, with an abundant capacity for effortless delight.
‘Charlie. Are you having a good time?’ ‘Always, my pet.’
‘Are you ready for your speech? You are up in about ten minutes.’
‘No problem. You are a sweet girl.’ The colonel turned to Jacob. ‘Our little mascot she was, always running around underfoot. Long hair flying behind her as she ran about the grandstands collecting old tickets, looking for the one that got away.’
A snippet of conversation from the grandstand snuck back into Jacob’s consciousness. Not knowing how to fit the mismatched pieces into her story, he felt the fragment flutter away.
‘And look at that little scar.’ The colonel pointed at the bridge of Holly’s nose and, though she swatted his hand away playfully, Jacob thought he saw a moment of panic in her action. ‘Barely there now. All healed.’
Holly cut the colonel off, grabbing him around the middle and dragging him away, rolling her expressive blue eyes behind his back. ‘Anyway, Charlie, it’s all well and good taking us down amnesia lane, but it’s time to get you to the stage. Excuse us, Jacob.’
And this time when she smiled it was just for him. And he knew, despite his very sensible inner protests, he was not going anywhere any time soon.
The colonel’s speech went brilliantly. It was funny, sweet, and tender enough to have those listening make enough donations to run the old Hidden Valley Greyhound Course for another good year.
Jacob and Ben had waited for Holly. The other guys had gone back to the city to finish off their celebration, minus their guest of honour, and Holly offered to drop the two men home.
As the sun set over the all but empty racecourse they crossed the track in companionable silence. The ground had dried somewhat and they were all now in regular footwear. Though Holly, in her high heels, had a little trouble matching their long strides.
‘Isn’t this where you are supposed to lay down your coats for me?’ she asked the men.
‘I thought that was only for a queen,’ Ben said from a few steps ahead of them.
‘And we know you are only a princess,’ Jacob whispered against her ear, sending thrilling hot shivers down the back of her neck. Holly poked out her tongue, though inside she was feeling far from flippant.
No matter how often she reminded herself of her perfectly good theory, she was beginning to sense there was more going on behind Jacob’s taciturn gaze than she had at first thought. For instance, what sort of man would have the strength of personality to be able to persuade an alcoholic to drink lemonade in a public bar?
But maybe that was not the point. Maybe the theory just needed a little tweak. Maybe her archetypal Mr Standoffish was born with a conscience; just not with the commitment gene. He could be attractive as Adonis, and as intelligent as Plato, but would he be devoted as say, Ben?
That she very much doubted.
Jacob pressed a gentle hand to her back as they reached the gate to the car park. She leapt away from him as though his warm fingers were laced with fire. He did not seem to notice, he just kept herding her through the space and dropped his hand casually as they reached her car.
First Holly dropped Jacob back to the Lincoln Holdings offices where he was planning to put in a few more hours. He hopped out of the car, then peered through the driver window.
‘Thanks for the lift.’
‘No problem.’ She had left the engine running at the ready for a quick getaway.
‘And for the lovely afternoon. It was most … unexpected.’
She smiled, her lips tight, her hands clasping and unclasping the steering wheel. He was so close she could sense the remnants of his aftershave. Sweet and dry at the same time. Delicious.
He placed his hands on the bottom of the open window and leant in, his breath fanning her face as he spoke beyond her to Ben. ‘See you tomorrow, Benny boy.’
Ben cocked his hand like a pistol. ‘Shall do, boss.’
Jacob turned to Holly, his face still only inches from hers. It was all she could do not to close her eyes, drink in his delectable scent.
‘I’ll see you, Holly,’ he said, and by his tone she believed it. He leant in and brushed a fleeting kiss upon her cheek. His lips were warm, soft, and gone all too soon. ‘Promise me you will get Benny boy home to Beth in one piece.’
‘I promise. Goodbye, Jacob.’
And as soon as his hands left the window she sped away. Allowing herself one brief glance in the rear-view mirror she saw Jacob standing in the road, his hands in his trouser pockets, watching her.
She kept her focus on the road ahead though her mind was spinning in another direction. ‘Have you found anyone else to set me up with?’
Ben paused, as he seemed to absorb this question. ‘I’m sure I could rustle up a couple of possibilities.’
‘Then do it. As soon as possible.’
‘If that’s what you still want.’
‘It is.’ He was watching her but she ignored him. She had said all she wanted to say on the matter. ‘Consider it done.’
She nodded, then drove Ben home to his waiting wife.
CHAPTER EIGHT
THANK GOD it’s Friday, Holly thought as the drinks waiter handed over her champagne glass of lemon, lime, bitters, and a dash of honey. She savoured a long, thankful taste before looking over the room. All of the guests at the Arty Pants Modern Art Gallery Charity Evening were smiling, chatting, and paying a good deal of attention to the art. All was well.
Until one man in the corner smiled her way. A man in an expensive suit, blond hair thinning and styled to within an inch of its life, strong tan, perfect teeth. Holly’s smile faded.
Oh, boy, not another one. Do they pop out of an assembly line just to attend parties and openings and corroborate my theory?
The man raised his glass in salute. Holly gave him a short polite nod and then moved away.
Luckily Lydia had just arrived, back from a week assisting at a Star Trek conference in Sydney.
‘Hello, gorgeous!’ Lydia called out as though she were on the other side of the room, not leaning into Holly’s arms for a fond embrace. ‘Loving it all, Holl. Great food, fabulous music and a feast for the eyes. Speaking of which, that blond dish in the corner is eyeing you up.’
Holly shot a quick glance at the man. He was still watching her over his tumbler.
‘Sorry, Lydia. Not interested.’
Lydia raised a thin blonde eyebrow in disbelief. ‘Why?
