will introduce myself.’
‘But I can’t let you pay for my ticket … I really can’t.’
‘You have already stated that it is very important you get to London today. Is it wise to refuse help when it is offered?’
There was no doubt she was in a fix and the handsome stranger knew it. But Natalie still resisted. ‘Yes, I do need to get to London. But you don’t know me and I don’t know you.’
‘You are wary of trusting me, perhaps?’
His somewhat amused smile made her feel even more gauche than she felt already.
‘Do you want a ticket or not, madam?’ The guard was understandably exasperated with her procrastination.
‘I don’t think I—’
‘The lady would most definitely like a ticket. Thank you,’ the stranger immediately interjected.
Her protest had clearly landed on deaf ears. Not only did he have the chiselled good looks of a modern-day Adonis, the timbre of the man’s voice was like burnished oak—smoky, compelling, and undeniably sexy. Natalie found her previous resolve to be careful dangerously weakening.
‘Okay … if you’re sure?’
Her need to get to London was paramount, and it overrode her reservations. Besides, her instinct told her the man was being utterly genuine and didn’t pose any kind of threat. She prayed it was a good instinct. Meanwhile the train guard was staring at them in obvious bewilderment, as though wondering why this handsome, well-heeled male passenger would insist on paying for a complete stranger’s ticket. After all, with her bohemian clothing, casually dried long brown hair with now fading blonde highlights, and not much make-up to speak of, she knew she wasn’t the kind of ‘high-maintenance’ woman who would attract a man as well-groomed and wealthy as the golden-haired male sitting opposite her. But if the smoky-coloured pencil she’d used to underline her big grey eyes with helped create the illusion that she was more attractive than she was, then at that moment Natalie was grateful for the ruse. For she knew she had no choice but to accept the man’s kindness. It was vital that she met up with her dad.
She could hardly shake the memory of his distressed tone when she’d rung him to confirm that she’d received the train ticket and once again he’d reiterated his urgent need to see her. It was so unlike him to admit to a human need, and it suggested he was just as fallible and fragile as anyone else—she had guessed all along that he was. Once, long ago, she had heard her mother angrily accuse him of being incapable of loving or needing anyone. His business and the drive to expand his bank account was the real love of his life, she’d cried, and Natalie didn’t doubt his obsessive single-mindedness had been a huge factor in their break-up.
When, after their divorce, her mother made the decision to return to Hampshire, where she had spent much of her youth, Natalie, then sixteen, had elected to go with her. As much as she’d loved her dad, and known him to be charming and affable, Natalie had also known he was far too unreliable and unpredictable to share a home with. But in recent years, after visiting him as often as she could manage, she’d become convinced that in his heart he knew money was no substitute for not having someone he loved close by.
From time to time she’d seen loneliness and regret in his eyes at being separated from his family. His tendency to try to compensate for the pain it caused him by regularly entertaining the company of young attractive women was clearly not helping to make him any happier. Several of her visits over the past two years had confirmed that. He seemed disgruntled with everything … even the phenomenally successful chain of small bijou hotels that had made him his fortune.
‘I just need a single,’ she told the arresting stranger, who didn’t seem remotely perturbed that she’d taken so long to make up her mind about whether to accept his offer or not. ‘And it doesn’t have to be in first class. My dad sent me the ticket, but I’m quite happy to travel as I usually do in second.’
She couldn’t disguise her awkwardness and embarrassment as she watched the man hand his credit card over to the guard. She felt even more awkward when he deliberately ignored her assertion and went ahead and requested a first-class ticket. Natalie hoped to God he believed her explanation about her dad sending her the ticket. After all, she was sure she didn’t resemble a typical first-class passenger.
Trust her dad to unwittingly add to her discomfort by making such a needlessly overblown gesture. He always travelled first class himself, which was why he’d automatically paid for his daughter to do the same. Now she really wished he hadn’t.
When the satisfied train guard had sorted out the necessary ticket, then wished them both an enjoyable journey, the impeccably dressed stranger handed it over to her and smiled. Natalie was very glad that the compartment was occupied by just the two of them right then, because if anyone else had witnessed the man’s astonishing act of chivalry she would have wanted the floor to open up and swallow her.
Accepting the ticket as her face flooded with heat, she prayed her see-sawing emotions would very soon calm down. ‘This is so kind of you … thank you … thank you so much.’
‘It is my pleasure.’
‘Will you write down your name and address for me so that I can send you what I owe you?’ She was already rummaging in her voluminous red leather tote for a pen and notepad.
‘We will have plenty of time for that. Why don’t we sort it out when we get to London?’
Lost for words, and somewhat exhausted by her growing tension, Natalie lowered her bag onto the seat next to her by the window and exhaled a heavy sigh.
With a disarming smile, her companion suggested, ‘Why don’t we help ease any awkwardness between us by introducing ourselves?’
‘All right, then. My name is Natalie.’
It was a mystery to her why she didn’t give him her full name. The thought that it was because she was momentarily dazzled by his good looks hardly pleased her. What did she think she was playing at? How often had she groaned at a friend who seemed to lose every ounce of common sense whenever a fit, handsome man engaged her in conversation and became convinced he must think her the most beautiful girl in the world? Such embarrassing silliness was not for her. She’d rather stay single for the rest of her natural life than delude herself that she was something that she wasn’t …
‘And I am Ludovic … but my family and friends call me Ludo.’
She frowned, ‘Ludovic? How unusual.’
‘It’s a family name.’ Beneath his immaculate tailoring the fair-haired Adonis’s broad shoulders lifted and fell as if the matter was of little concern. ‘And Natalie? Is that a name you inherited?’
‘No. Actually, it was the name of my mum’s best friend at school. She sadly died when she was a teenager and my mum called me Natalie as a tribute to her.’
‘That was a nice gesture. If you don’t mind my saying, there’s something about you that suggests you are not wholly English … am I right?’
‘I’m half-Greek. My mother was born and raised in Crete, although when she was seventeen she came to the UK to work.’
‘What about your father?’
‘He’s English … from
