The Billionaire's Marriage Mission. Helen Brooks
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Someone was driving down the lane leading to the cottage!
Jumping up, she dashed past her car and the small area of lawn which made up the front garden and opened the big swing gate, holding Harvey’s leather collar as she waited for whoever it was to reach them. She shone the torch anxiously into the road, hoping the vehicle owner wouldn’t just drive straight past. It wasn’t as if she looked as though she might be a dangerous mugger or something, she reasoned frantically, not in her pyjamas. But for that same reason she wanted any potential rescuer to see Harvey and know she had the sort of guard dog it wasn’t wise to ignore. You heard such horrible things these days about women being attacked when they asked strangers for help.
It seemed an eternity before the car reached them but it could only have been a minute or two. Then brilliant headlights lit up the darkness, swallowing the meagre light from the torch. A large estate car swept by before Beth could blink. For an awful moment she thought the driver hadn’t noticed them standing on the grass verge, but then she heard the screech of brakes after the car had disappeared from view round a bend in the road. A few seconds later it reversed and came to a stop at the side of them.
The window wound down and a deep male voice, in tones of mingled amazement and amusement, drawled, ‘What the dickens are you doing out here dressed like that?’
Enjoying myself? For a moment she almost let her tongue rule her brain before logic told her she had to get this guy on her side, whoever he was. Biting back the caustic retort which had sprung to her lips, she said evenly, ‘I appear to have locked myself out when I was seeing to my dog. I don’t suppose you’ve got anything in the car I could force the door with?’ She swung the torch in the direction of his face as she spoke and saw him flinch as the bright light hit his eyes. ‘Sorry.’ She lowered it immediately but the brief glimpse had been enough to tell her the man was dark-haired and youngish; beyond that she hadn’t been able to see.
‘You’re asking me to do a bit of breaking and entering?’
Amusement was definitely paramount now and Beth had to take a deep breath before she could say sweetly, ‘I suppose so, yes. Can you help?’ She was shivering from head to foot and in a minute her teeth would being to chatter, and this clown found the situation funny. The unfeeling so-and-so.
‘You’re cold.’
She hoped it was her shaking he had noticed and not the way her nipples were standing out like chapel hat pegs against the thin silk of her pyjama top. Not that she could do anything about it; she couldn’t even cross her arms over her chest with one hand holding Harvey’s collar and the other clutching the torch. ‘A bit,’ she said steadily. ‘Which is why I’d like to get back in as soon as possible.’
The engine was turned off and the driver’s door opened, a big figure uncurling itself from the dark depths of the vehicle. The next moment she was being handed a bulky jacket which must have been on the passenger seat beside him. ‘Here, put this on,’ he said easily, glancing down at Harvey who had begun a low rumbling growl in the back of his throat.
Beth didn’t try to stop the dog; in fact she made a mental note to give him an extra handful of his favourite biscuits once they were inside. The man was tall—very tall—and intimidatingly broad-shouldered and muscular from what she could ascertain in the dim light. She didn’t like to shine the torch up into his face again to get a good look at him but she was feeling distinctly nervous, being so scantily clad.
The next moment the stranger crouched down so that his head was in line with Harvey’s powerful jaws, his voice relaxed and soothing as he said, ‘Steady, boy. No one’s going to harm your mistress,’ and offered a hand for the dog to sniff.
There was a brief pause and then the rumbling stopped and a large pink tongue licked the man’s hand as Harvey’s tail wagged a greeting. Beth wondered if Harvey would look quite so pleased with himself if he knew he’d just blown the extra biscuits.
‘Nice dog.’ The man stood up and stretched out a hand, saying, ‘Give me the torch while you put the coat on.’
Beth didn’t see any point in arguing. If he was going to hit her over the head with something and have his wicked way with her, it might as well be the torch as anything else. Clearly Harvey was going to be no help whatsoever.
The man pushed past her and walked to the cottage door as she slipped the jacket on. It drowned her, but right at this moment that was very welcome. She followed him, Harvey trotting at her side, and watched as he first tried the door and then walked round the building checking each window as she’d done. Of course he didn’t end up sitting in fox or badger dung.
When he re-emerged from the back of the cottage Beth said a little testily, ‘I’d already tried all the windows.’
He didn’t comment on this. What he did say was, ‘What’s that terrible smell? Raw sewage?’
‘I slipped over at the back of the house. I think an animal had been there.’
‘And how.’ He didn’t bother to try to hide his amusement.
She wasn’t about to stand in the wind and cold discussing how she smelt. And he hadn’t exactly been a gentleman to mention it in the first place. ‘So, can you get me in?’ she asked shortly. ‘It’s freezing out here.’
‘Probably, but I don’t intend to. There’s no point in forcing the door or a window and causing a considerable amount of damage when you can contact the agent in the morning and ask them to call by. This place is rented by Turner & Turner, isn’t it? The local estate agent?’
‘Yes, but—’
‘So I suggest you come back to my place and get a good night’s sleep and we’ll sort it in the morning. You haven’t got anything on the stove in there, have you? Nothing’s going to cause a problem?’
Was he mad? She would no more think of going back to ‘his place’ than flying to the moon. Stiffly now, Beth said, ‘I lit a fire. I can’t leave it.’
‘You already have,’ he pointed out silkily.
‘The guard wasn’t in front of it.’
‘There’s hardly any smoke coming out of the chimney so it’s probably dying out already. It’ll be all right.’
So now he was an expert on fires? ‘I can’t possibly just walk away; you must see that?’
‘Of course you can.’ The comment about the estate agent had told her he must be a local, and this was confirmed now when he added, ‘I know John Turner; I’ll call him myself in the morning and explain the situation. You’ll be back in by ten o’clock. He’d prefer that than breaking and entering, I’m sure.’
She didn’t want to be back in by ten o’clock, she wanted to be back in now. ‘If you know him, can’t you phone now?’
She could see the silhouette of his head shaking as he said, ‘No can do. Friday night is John’s snooker night with the lads. Nothing gets in the way of that.’
This was absolutely ridiculous. ‘I couldn’t possibly go home with you, Mr…?’
‘Black. Travis