Chapter 2

‘Jesse, Miss O’Shea, Rococo Union. ’ Big guy announces.

‘Perfect. Thanks, John. ’

I’m dragged from my awed like state, straight into high alert. My back straightens.

I can’t see him, he’s obscured by the big guy’s massive frame, but that raspy, smooth voice has me frozen on the spot, and it certainly doesn’t sound like it’s coming from a cigar smoking, overweight, wax jacket wearing Lord of the Manor.

Big guy, or John as I now know him, moves to the side, giving me my first glimpse of Mr Jesse Ward.

Oh good God. My heart crashes against my breast bone and my nervous breathing rockets to damn right dangerous levels. I suddenly feel light headed, and my mouth is ignoring my brains instructions to at least say something. I just stand there staring at this man, while he stares back at me. His husky voice halted me in my tracks, but the sight of him…well, that’s just turned me into a non-responsive, quivering wreck.

He rises from his chair, my gaze traveling up with him until he’s stood at full height. He’s very tall. His white shirt is casually rolled at the sleeves, but he still wears a black tie, loosely knotted and hanging down the front of a broad chest.

He makes his way around his massive desk and slowly walks towards me. It’s then that I take in the full impact of him. I gulp. This man is so perfect, I’m almost in pain. His dirty blonde hair looks like he’s half attempted to get it into some semblance of a style but given up. His eyes are sludgy green, but bright and way too intense, and the stubble covering his square jaw does nothing to conceal the handsome features beneath it. He’s lightly tanned and just…Oh God, he’s devastating. Lord of the Manor?

‘Miss O’Shea. ’ His hand comes toward me, but I can’t persuade my arm to raise and clasp his outstretched offering. He’s beautiful.

When I don’t offer my hand, he reaches forward and clasps both of my shoulders, then slowly leans in to kiss me, his lips brushing lightly over my burning cheek. I tense all over. I can hear my pulse throbbing in my ears, and even though it’s completely inappropriate for a business meeting, I do nothing to stop him. I’m all over the place.

‘It’s a pleasure, ’ he whispers in my ear, which only serves to make me moan slightly. He must feel my tenseness – it’s not difficult, I’m rigid – because his grip eases up and he lowers his face to my level, looking me directly in the eyes. ‘Are you okay? ’ he asks, one side of his mouth lifting into a semblance of a smile. I notice a single frown line across his forehead.

I snap myself out of my ridiculous inertness, suddenly aware that I’ve still not said anything. Has he noticed my reaction to him? What about big guy? I glance over, seeing the big guy stood motionless, glasses still in place, but I know his eyes are on me. I mentally shake myself and step back, away from Ward and his potent grasp. His hands fall to his side.

‘Hi, ’ I cough to clear my throat. ‘Ava. My name is Ava. ’ I offer him my hand, but he’s unhurried in accepting it, like he’s unsure whether it’s safe to, but he does…eventually.

His hand is clammy and slightly shaky as he squeezes mine firmly. Sparks fizz and a curious look flits across his stunning face. We both retract our hands in shock.

‘Ava. ’ He’s trying my name on his lips, and it takes all of my strength not to moan again. He should stop talking – immediately.

‘Yes, Ava. ’ I confirm. He’s the one who seems to be off in his own little nirvana now, while I’m becoming increasingly aware of my rising temperature.

He suddenly seems to come to his senses, shoving his hands in his trouser pockets as he shakes his head slightly, retreating backwards. ‘Thanks, John. ’ he nods to the big guy, who smiles slightly, softening his hard features, then leaves.

I’m alone with this man, who has rendered me speechless, motionless and pretty much useless.

He nods towards two brown leather couches, positioned opposite each other in the bay window, with a large coffee table sitting between them. ‘Please, take a seat. Can I get you a drink? ’ He drags his gaze from mine, walking towards a cabinet with various bottles of liquor lined up on top. He surely doesn’t mean alcohol? It’s midday. Even by my standards it’s too early. I watch as he hovers at the cabinet for a few moments before turning to face me again, looking at me expectantly.

‘No, thank you. ’ I shake my head as I speak, just in case the words don’t come out.

‘Water? ’ he asks, that smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

Oh God, don’t look at me. ‘Please. ’ I smile a nervous smile. My mouth is parched.

He collects two bottles of water from the integrated fridge and turns back towards me. It’s then that I persuade my shaky legs to carry me across the room to the sofa.

‘Ava? ’ His voice rolls across me, causing me to falter en-route.

I turn to face him. It’s probably a bad idea. ‘Yes? ’

He holds up a highball. ‘Glass? ’

‘Yes, please. ’ I smile. He must think I’m so unprofessional. I settle myself on the leather couch, retrieve my folder and phone from my bag and place them on the table in front of me. I notice my hands shaking.

Christ, woman. Get a grip! I feign making notes as he strolls back over, placing my water and a glass on the table. He sits down on the sofa opposite and crosses one leg over the other, his ankle resting on his thigh. He stretches back. He’s really making himself comfortable, and the silence that falls between us is screaming as I write anything and everything to avoid looking up at him. I know I’ve got to look at the man and say something at some point, but all standard enquiry questions have run, screaming and shouting, from my brain.

‘So, where do we start? ’ he asks, forcing me look up and acknowledge his question. He smiles. I swoon.

He’s watching me over the rim of his bottle as he raises it to those lovely lips. I break the eye contact, reaching forward to pour some water into my glass. I’m struggling to reign in my nerves, and I can still feel his eyes on me. This is truly awkward. I’ve never been so affected by a man.

‘I guess you should tell me why I’m here. ’ I speak! I look back up at him as I take my glass from the table.

‘Oh? ’ he says quietly. There’s that frown line again. Even with that, he’s still beautiful.

‘You requested me by name? ’ I press.

‘Yes. ’ he replies simply. He smiles again. I have to look away.

I take a sip of my water to moisten my dry mouth, and clear my throat before returning my gaze to his potent stare. ‘So, can I ask why? ’

‘You can. ’ He uncrosses his leg, leaning forward to place his bottle on the table, resting his forearms on his knees, but he says no more. Is he not going to elaborate on that?

‘Okay, ’ I struggle to maintain eye contact. ‘Why? ’

‘I’ve heard great things about you. ’

I feel my face burning up. ‘Thank you. So, why am I here? ’

‘Well, to design. ’ He laughs, and I feel stupid but slightly irritated as well. Is he making fun of me?

‘Design what exactly? ’ I ask. ‘From what I’ve seen, everything is pretty perfect. ’ He surely doesn’t want to modernise this lovely place. It may not be my forte, but I know class when I see it.

‘Thank you, ’ he says softly. ‘Do you have your portfolio with you? ’

‘Of course, ’ I reply, reaching into my bag. Why he wants to look at it is beyond me. It won’t reflect anything like this place.

I place it on the table in front of him and expect him to drag it over to his side, but to my horror, he stands in one fluid movement and walks around to me, lowering his lovely lean body onto the sofa next to me. Oh, Jesus. He smells divine – all fresh water and minty. I hold my breath.

Leaning forward, he opens the folder. ‘You’re very young to be such an accomplished designer. ’ he muses, slowly turning the pages of my portfolio.

He’s right, I am. It’s only thanks to Patrick for giving me free reign on the expansion of his business. In four years, I’ve fallen out of college, picked up a job in an established design company – that had the financial stability but lacked the new freshness in modern ideas – and made a name for myself on the back of it. I’ve been lucky, and I appreciate Patrick’s faith in my capabilities. That, coupled with my contract at Lusso, is the only reason I’m where I am at the age of twenty six.

I look down at his lovely hand, his wrist adorned in a beautiful gold and graphite Rolex. ‘How old are you? ’ I blurt. Oh, good God. My brain is like scrambled egg, and I know I’ve just blushed a sharp shade of red. I should just keep my mouth shut. Where the hell did that come from?

He looks at me intently, his green eyes burning into mine. ‘Twenty one. ’ he answers, completely pokerfaced.

I scoff mildly, and his eyebrows jump up questioningly. ‘Sorry. ’ I mutter, turning back to the table. I’m feeling flustered. I hear him exhale heavily as his lovely hand reaches back down to my portfolio to start turning the pages again, his left hand resting on the edge of the table.

I notice no ring. He’s not married? How can that be?

‘This, I like a lot. ’ He points to the photographs of Lusso.

‘I’m not sure my works on Lusso would fit in here. ’ I say quietly. It’s way too modern – luxurious, yes, but too modern.

He looks up at me. ‘You’re right, I’m just saying…I really like it. ’

‘Thank you. ’ I feel my colour deepen as he studies me thoughtfully before returning to my portfolio.

I make a grab for my water, resisting the temptation to chuck it down my front to cool me off, but very nearly do when his trouser clad thigh brushes against my bare knee. I shift quickly to break the contact, glancing out the corner of my eye to see a small smirk breaking at the edge of his mouth. He’s doing this on purpose. It’s too much.

‘Do you have a toilet? ’ I ask as I place my glass back on the table and stand. I need to go and compose myself. I’m a ruffled mess.

He rises from the couch swiftly, moving back to let me pass. ‘Through the summer room and on your left. ’ he says with a smile. He knows he’s affecting me. The way he’s smiling at me, knowingly, I bet he has this sort of reaction from women all of the time.

‘Thank you. ’ I edge out of the small gape between the table and the sofa, my task hampered as he makes no attempt to give me more space. I have to virtually brush past him, and that has me holding my breath until I’m clear of his body.

I walk towards the door. His eyes are on me; I can feel them burning a hole through my dress. I roll my neck to try and rid myself of the goose bumps jumping onto my nape.

Stumbling out of his office, I head down the corridor before wandering through the summer room and staggering into the ridiculously posh lavatories. I brace myself over the sink and look in the mirror. ‘Jesus, Ava. Pull it together! ’ I scorn my reflection.

‘Met the Lord, have we? ’

I swing around and find a very attractive business lady, faffing with her hair at the other end of the room. I have no idea what to say, but she’s just confirmed what I already suspected – he does have this affect on all women. When my brain fails to deliver on anything suitable to say, I just smile.

She returns my smile, amused and knowing of the reason for my flustered state, before disappearing from the toilets. If I wasn’t feeling so hot and nervous, I might be embarrassed at my obvious condition. But I am hot, and I’m very nervous, so I brush off my humiliation, take some steady breaths and wash my clammy hands with the Noble Isle hand wash. I should have brought my bag. I could do with some Vaseline on my lips. My mouth is still dry and my lips are suffering as a consequence.

Okay, I need to get back out there, get the specification and be gone. My heart is pleading for some let up. I’m completely ashamed of myself. I re-pin my hair and exit the toilets, making my way back to Mr Ward’s office. I don’t know if I’m going to be able to work for this man; I’m just way too affected by him.

I knock before I enter, finding him sat on the couch looking over my portfolio. He looks up and smiles, and I know now, I really have to leave. I can’t possibly work with this man. Every molecule of intelligence and brain power I possess has been zapped from my body by his presence. And worse of all, he knows it.

I give myself a mental pep talk, making my way over to the table, ignoring the fact that he’s following my every move. He leans back on the sofa in a gesture for me to squeeze past, but I don’t. I take a seat on the opposite sofa, perching on the edge.

He flicks me a questioning look. ‘Are you okay? ’

‘Yes, I’m fine, ’ I answer shortly. He knows. ‘Would you like to show me where your intended project is so we can start discussing requirements? ’ I force the confidence into my voice. I’m just following protocol now. I’ve absolutely no intention of taking this contract on, but I can’t just walk out – as tempting as it is.

He raises his eyebrows, clearly surprised by my change of approach. ‘Sure. ’ He gets up from the sofa, striding over to his desk to collect his mobile. I gather my things, stuff them into my bag and follow his gesture to lead the way.

He quickly overtakes me, opening the door and performing an exaggerated gentlemanly bow as he holds it open. I smile politely – even though I know he’s playing with me – and exit into the corridor, heading towards the summer room. I stiffen on a gasp when he places a hand at the small of my back to guide me.

What’s he playing at? I’m trying my hardest to ignore it, but you would have to be dead not to notice the affect this man’s having on me. And I know he knows it. My skin’s burning all over – almost certainly warming his palm through my dress – I can’t get my breathing under control and walking is taking every bit of coordination and effort I possess. I’m pathetic, and it’s bloody obvious he’s enjoying the reactions he’s drawing from me. I must be quite amusing.

Annoyed with myself, I walk a little quicker to break the contact of his hand from my back, stopping when I reach the point of two possible routes.

He reaches me, pointing out across the lawns to the tennis courts. ‘Do you play? ’

I actually laugh, but it’s a comfortable laugh. ‘No, I don’t. ’ I can run, but that’s about it. Give me a bat, racket or a ball, then you’re asking for trouble. The corners of his mouth twitch into a grin at my reaction, bolstering the green of his eyes and lengthening his generous lashes. I smile, shaking my head in wonder at this glorious man. ‘You? ’ I ask.

He continues through to the entrance hall, me following. ‘I don’t mind the odd game, but I’m more of an extreme sports kinda guy. ’ He stops, and I halt with him.

He looks ridiculously fit and toned. ‘What sort of extreme sports? ’

‘Snowboarding, mainly, but I’ve tried my hand at white water rafting, bungee jumping and skydiving. I’m a bit of an adrenalin junky. I like to feel the blood pumping. ’ He watches me as he speaks, making me feel scrutinised. You would have to anesthetise me before you got me doing any of his blood pumping pastimes. I’ll stick to a run every so often.

‘Extreme. ’ I say, studying this magnificent man of an age I don’t know.

‘Very extreme, ’ he confirms quietly. My breath catches again and I close my eyes, mentally yelling at myself for being such a loser. ‘Shall we continue? ’ he asks. I can hear humour in his voice.

I open my eyes to be met by his penetrating, green stare. ‘Yes, please. ’

I wish he would stop looking at me like that. He half smiles again and walks into the bar, greeting the men I saw earlier by clapping them on the shoulders. The woman is no longer here. The two men are very attractive, young – probably late twenties – and perched on bar stools, drinking bottles of beer.

‘Guys, this is Ava. Ava, this is Sam Kelt and Drew Davies. ’

‘Good afternoon. ’ Drew drawls. He’s a bit miserable. His appearance – he’s handsome in a rugged kind of way – and character, tell me he’s smart, confident and a business type. His black hair is perfectly styled, his suit pristine, his eyes shrewd.

‘Hi. ’ I smile politely.

‘Welcome to the pleasure dome, ’ Sam laughs, raising his bottle. ‘Can I buy you a drink? ’

I notice Ward shake his head lightly on an eye roll. Sam grins. He’s the polar opposite of Drew – all casual and laid back, in old jeans, a Superdry T-shirt and converse. He has a cheeky face, complimented by one dimple on his left cheek. His blue eyes twinkle, adding to his cheekiness, and his mousey brown, shoulder length hair is all over the place.

‘No, I’m fine, thanks. ’ I answer.

He nods at Ward. ‘Jesse? ’

‘No, I’m good, I‘m just giving Ava a tour of the extension. She’ll be working on the interiors. ’ he says, smiling at me.

I quietly scoff to myself. Not if I have anything to do with it. Anyway, he’s jumping the gun a bit, isn’t he? We’ve not discussed rates, briefs or anything, for that matter.

‘About time, there are never any rooms available. ’ Drew grumbles into his bottle. Why have I never heard of this place?

‘How was the boarding in Cortina, my man? ’ Sam asks.

Ward perches on another stool. ‘Amazing. The Italian way of skiing follows pretty closely to their laid back lifestyle, ’ He smiles broadly, the first proper full beam smile since I’ve laid eyes on him – all straight, white and lush. This man is a God. ‘I got up late, found a great mountain, ran the slopes until my legs buckled, had a siesta, ate late and started all over again the next day. ’ He’s addressing us all but staring at me. His passion for the slopes is demonstrated in his wide smile.

I can’t help but return his beam. ‘You’re good? ’ I ask, because it’s the only thing that comes to mind. I imagine he’s good at everything.

‘Very, ’ he confirms quietly. I nod my approval, and for a few seconds, our eyes are locked. I’m the first to break it. ‘Shall we? ’ he asks, pushing himself up from the stool and gesturing towards the exit.

‘Yes. ’ I smile. I’m supposedly here to work, after all. All I’ve achieved so far is a hot flush and an establishment of extreme sports. I feel like I’m in a trance.

From the moment I pulled up to those gates, I knew it wasn’t going to be an average day to day meeting, and I was right. In the four years I’ve been visiting people in their homes, work places and new builds, I’ve never come across a Jesse Ward. I probably never will do again. It’s undoubtedly a good job.

I turn to the two guys at the bar, smiling my goodbye, prompting them to raise their bottles before they continue with their conversation. I walk towards the door that leads back to the entrance hall, feeling him close behind me. He’s too close; I can smell him. I close my eyes, sending a small prayer to God to get me through this quickly, with at least a bit of dignity intact. He’s just way too intense and it’s throwing my senses in a million different directions.

‘So, now for the main feature, ’ He begins to climb the wide staircase. I follow him, gazing around the colossal void that leads to a huge gallery landing. ‘These are the private rooms. ’ he says, pointing to various doors that lead off of the landing.

I follow, admiring his lovely backside, thinking he possibly has the sexiest walk I’ve ever had the privilege of seeing. When I drag my eyes from his tidy rear, I see that there are at least twenty doors, evenly spaced and leading into rooms beyond. He leads me until we reach another grand staircase that stretches to another floor. At the foot of the stairs, there’s a beautiful stained glass window and an archway leading to another wing.

‘This is the extension, ’ He guides me through to a new section of the mansion. ‘This is where I need your help. ’ he adds, halting at the mouth of a corridor that leads to a further ten rooms.

‘This is all new? ’ I ask.

‘Yes, they’re all shells at the moment, but I’m sure you’ll remedy that. Let me show you. ’

I’m way past shocked when he takes my hand, tugging me down the corridor to the very last door. Inappropriate! His hand is still clammy, and I’m sure mine is trembling in his grip. The arched brow on a slight grin he flashes me, tells me I’m right. There’s some sort of super charged current flowing through us – it’s making me shudder.

He opens the door, directing me into a freshly plastered room. It’s vast, and the new windows are sympathetic to the existing property. Whoever built this did an excellent job.

‘Are they all this big? ’ I ask, flexing my fingers until he releases my hand. Does he behave like this with all females? It’s really off putting.

‘Yes. ’

I walk into the centre of the room, looking around. It’s a good size. I notice another door. ‘En-suite? ’ I ask as I wander over and enter.

‘Yes. ’

The rooms are huge, especially by hotel standards. A lot could be done with them. I would be excited, if I wasn’t so concerned with what’s expected of me. This is no Lusso. I exit the bathroom, finding Ward leaning against the wall, his hands in his trouser pockets, his eyes all hooded and dark as he watches me. My God, the man is sex on legs. I’m almost disappointed that traditional doesn’t feature in my design history. It’s of no interest to me at all.

‘I’m not sure I’m the right person for this job. ’ I sound regretful. That’s okay, because I am. I’m regretful that I can’t pull myself together. He looks at me, those sludgy eyes stabbing at my defenses, making me shift on my heels.

‘I think you have what I want. ’ he says quietly.

WHOA! ‘I’ve always dealt in modern luxury, ’ I look around the room again, slowly dropping my eyes back to him. ‘I’m sure you would be happier working with Patrick or Tom. They deal with our period projects. ’

He considers me for a second, does that head shake thing and pushes himself away from the wall by his shoulder blades. ‘But I want you. ’

‘Why? ’

‘You look like you’ll be very good. ’

An involuntary rush of breath escapes my lips at his words. I’m not sure what to make of that statement. Does he mean for my design skills or something else? The way he’s looking at me, tells me it’s the latter. He’s a bit bloody confident.

‘What’s your brief? ’ I ask, because all other words fail me. My colour is rising again.

A smile tickles the corners of his mouth. ‘Sensual, intimate, luxurious, stimulating, invigorating…’ He pauses to gage my reaction.

I frown. It’s not the usual brief. Relaxing, functional or practical were not mentioned at all. ‘Okay, anything in particular I should allow for? ’ I ask. Why am I bothering with these questions?

‘A big bed and lots of wall hangings. ’ he states on a husk.

‘What sort of wall hangings? ’

‘Big, wooden ones. Oh, and the lighting needs to suit. ’

‘Suit what? ’ I can’t help the confusion in my tone.

He smiles, and I dissolve on the spot in a hot pool of hormones. ‘Well, the brief, of course. ’

Oh God, he must think I’m something else. ‘Yes, of course, ’ I look up, seeing chunky beams spanning the ceiling. The building is new, but they are no faux beams. ‘Do all of the rooms have them? ’ I return my eyes to his.

‘Yes, they’re essential. ’ His voice is low and seductive. I’m not sure how much more I can take.

I grab my client briefing pad to start making notes. ‘Are there any particular colours I should work to or against? ’

‘No, knock yourself out. ’

I flick my head up to look at him. ‘Excuse me? ’

He smiles. ‘Go for it. ’

Oh, well, I won’t be knocking myself out on anything because he won’t be seeing me here again. But I should get as much information as possible so I can pass it to Patrick or Tom, with at least a bit of willingness.

‘You mentioned a big bed. Any particular type? ’ I ask, trying to remain professional.

‘No, just very big, ’

I falter mid-note, slowly looking up to find him watching me. It’s making me stupidly nervous. ‘What about soft furnishings? ’

‘Yes, lots. ’ He starts walking towards me. ‘I like your dress. ’ he whispers.

Holy shit, I’m out of here! ‘Thanks, ’ I squeak, making for the door. ‘I have everything I need. ’ I don’t, but I can’t stay here any longer. This man is like a sensory drain on me. ‘I’ll get some designs together. ’ I exit into the corridor, heading straight for the gallery landing.

Bloody hell, when I woke up this morning, this was the last thing I expected. Posh country mansion – with a painfully handsome owner to round the package off – is not part of my regular daily routine.

I find my way to the top of the stairs, bolting down at a stupid rate, considering the tan stilettos I have on. I hit the parquet floor, wondering how the hell I got here. I’m a mess.

‘I look forward to hearing from you, Ava. ’ His husky voice rolls over my flesh as he joins me at the bottom of the stairs, putting his hand out. I take it in mine for fear that if I don’t, he may well clench me and place his lips on me again.

‘You have a lovely hotel. ’ I say genuinely. I’m beginning to wish that my handbag contents consisted of spare knickers, a blind fold, ear plugs and some armor. I might have been more prepared.

His eyebrows shoot up as he keeps hold of my hand and slowly shakes it. The buzz travelling through our joined hands makes me tense all over. ‘I have a lovely hotel. ’ he repeats thoughtfully. The buzz transforms to a full on jolt of electricity, and I retract my hand under reflex. He looks at me questioningly. ‘It really was nice to meet you, Ava. ’ He emphasises the really.

‘You too, ’ I practically whisper.

I watch as his eyes dart briefly and he starts chewing his bottom lip. His shifting body eventually moves over to the centre table of the entrance hall. He pulls out a single calla lily from the huge spray that’s dominating the piece of furniture. He studies it for a few moments before he holds it out to me. ‘Understated elegance. ’ he says softly.

I don’t know why, maybe because my brain is mush, but I take it. ‘Thank you. ’

He puts his abandoned hand in his pocket, watching me closely. ‘You’re more than welcome. ’ His gaze travels from my eyes to my lips. I take a few steps back.

‘There you are! ’ A woman walks out of the bar and towards Ward. She’s attractive – all blonde, mid-length, layered hair and red, pouty lips. She kisses his cheek. ‘Are you ready? ’

Okay, I’m assuming this must be the wife. But there was no ring, so maybe it’s the girlfriend? Either or, I’m completely stunned when he doesn’t take his eyes off of me, making no attempt to answer her question. She turns to see what’s stealing his attention and eyes me suspiciously. I don’t like her instantly, and it has nothing to do with the man she’s draped all over.

‘And you are? ’ she purrs.

I shift uncomfortably, feeling like I’ve been captured doing something naughty. Well, I have. I’ve been having extreme unwelcome reactions to her boyfriend. An unreasonable pang of jealousy stabs at me. How ridiculous!

I smile sweetly. ‘Just leaving. Goodbye. ’ I turn, practically running to the door and scuttling down the steps. I jump into my car, letting out an almighty breath, and when my lungs have thanked me for the welcome air, I flop back in my seat and commence breathing regulating exercises.

I’m going to have to pass this to Tom. But then I laugh at my stupid idea. Tom’s gay. He’ll be just as affected by Ward as I am. Even knowing he’s taken, I still couldn’t work with him. I shake my head in disbelief and start my car.

As I drive down the gravel driveway, I look in my rear view mirror at the imposing Manor getting smaller and smaller behind me. And there, stood at the top of the steps watching me leave, is Jesse Ward.

***

‘There you are. I was just going to call you, ’ Kate exclaims, without looking up from placing a figurine on the wedding cake she’s decorating. Her tongue’s hanging out, resting on her bottom lip. It makes me smile. ‘Do you fancy going out? ’ She still doesn’t look up.

This is good. I’m sure my face will give away any attempt to feign coolness. I’m still slightly flustered after my lunchtime meeting with a certain Lord of the Manor. I don’t have the energy to get ready and go out.

‘Shall we save ourselves for tomorrow? ’ I try. I know this will mean a bottle of wine on the sofa, but at least I can put my PJ’s on and chill out. After the day I’ve had, winding down my racing mind is paramount. I’ve got a headache and lacked the ability to concentrate all day.

‘Absolutely. Let me finish this cake, then I’m all yours. ’ She swivels the fruit cake on the stand, dabbing edible glue onto the icing. ‘How was your day in the countryside? ’

Ha! What do I say? I expected a pompous country bumpkin, but I got a devastatingly handsome, suited God. He requested me by name, his touch turned me to molten lava, I can’t look in his eyes for fear of passing out and he liked my dress. Instead, I say, ‘Interesting, ’

She looks up. ‘Do tell. ’ she prompts, her eyes sparkling as she bends back down, her tongue popping out again.

‘It wasn’t what I expected. ’ I flick a piece of imaginary lint off of my navy dress in an attempt to appear casual.

‘Leave out what you expected and tell me what you got. ’ She’s stopped trying to fix husband and wife to the top of the cake. Instead, her eyes are narrowed on me. She has icing on the end of her nose, but I ignore it.

‘The owner, ’ I shrug, fiddling with my tan belt.

‘The owner? ’ she asks, her lips twitching.

‘Yes. Jesse Ward, the owner. ’ I flick more imaginary lint from my dress.

‘Jesse Ward, the owner. ’ she mimics me, pointing to one of the flowery tub chairs in her workshop. ‘Sit, now! Why are you trying to sound cool? You’re failing miserably, by the way. Your cheeks are the colour of that icing. ’ She points to a fire engine cake on the metal shelf stand. ‘Why was the owner, Jesse Ward, not what you expected? ’

Because he was steaming hot! I flop into the chair with my bag on my lap, while Kate stands tapping her palm with the handle of her spatula. She finally walks over, sitting in the chair opposite me.

‘Tell me. ’ she presses, knowing there’s something to tell.

I shrug. ‘The man’s attractive and he knows it. ’ I see her eyes light up as the spatulas taps become faster on her hand. She wants more drama. She loves it. When Matt and I split up, she was the first on the scene to soak up the spectacle as a supporting friend. She needn’t have bothered. It was mutual, very amicable and really rather boring. No plates were flying and no neighbours called the police.

‘How old? ’ she asks keenly.

Now, that one’s got me. I’m still mortified that I blurted such an inappropriate question during a business meeting. My embarrassment wasn’t even worthwhile as he was obviously playing with me.

I shrug. ‘He said twenty one, but he’s at least ten years past that. ’

‘You asked him? ’ Kate’s jaw hits her lap.

‘Yes, in a moment of pure brain to mouth filter malfunction, the question did slip. I’m not proud. ’ I mutter. ‘I made such a fool of myself, Kate. A man’s never done that to me before. But this one, well, you would have been ashamed of me. ’

A sharp shot of laughter flies from her mouth. ‘Ava, I need to teach you some social skills! ’ She falls back in her chair, starting to lick the icing from her spatula.

‘Please do, ’ I grumble, putting my hand out to her. She passes me the spatula, and I start licking at the edges. I’ve lived with Kate for a month and existed on wine, icing sugar and cake mixture. A loss of appetite after a break up, I don’t have. ‘He was very self-assured. ’ I say between licks.

‘As in? ’

‘Oh, this man knew he was sparking a reaction in me. I must have been painful to watch. I was pathetic. ’

‘That good? ’

I shake my head in dismay. ‘Ridiculously, ’

‘He’s probably shit in bed, ’ Kate muses. ‘All the hot ones are. What’s your brief? ’

‘Ten new bedrooms in the extension. I thought I was going to a country mansion, but it’s a mega plush hotel come spa. The Manor, have you heard of it? ’

Kate’s face screws up into a clueless expression. ‘Nope, ’ she replies, getting up to turn the oven off. ‘Can I come next time? ’

‘No, I’m not going back. I can’t work with that. Besides, he has a girlfriend. And I could never look him in the eye again, not after my performance. ’ I push myself up from the chair, throwing the spatula into the empty mixing bowl. ‘I’ve passed it over to Patrick. Wine? ’

‘In the fridge, ’

We make our way up to the flat and change into our PJ’s. I dump my bag on my bed and it flops open, the calla lily Ward gave me making an appearance. Understated elegance. I pick it up and twirl it in my fingers for a few moments, then dump it in my wastepaper basket. Forgotten...

Once changed into my slob out clothes, I load the DVD player with the latest offering from the local rental shop, jump on the couch with Kate and try to concentrate on the movie.

It’s impossible. My mind’s eye is trampled with a tall, lean, dark blonde, green eyed male of a certain age, with a dribble worthy gait and bag loads of sex appeal. I doze off with the words “But I want you” pin-balling around my head. Not so forgotten…

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