He shook his head and she let slip that new word she was finding all kinds of uses for, but it didn’t help. This went far beyond a slightly shocking expletive.
‘How could anyone do such a wicked thing?’ she asked.
‘For money, Annie.’ He made a move as if to put his hand on her arm in a gesture of comfort, but instead lifted it to push his fingers through his thick, dark hair. ‘This is going to totally screw up your plans, isn’t it?’
‘I didn’t actually have anything as organised as a plan,’ she admitted. ‘Just a general direction.’
‘Running blind is never a good idea.’ Then, almost, it seemed, against his will, ‘What will you do now?’
She lifted her shoulders in a resigned shrug. ‘Call a cab and go to the motel.’ She managed a wry smile. ‘Spend the evening working on a plan.’
‘Have something to eat first,’ he said.
‘Thank you. Both of you,’ she added. ‘I mean that. I’m really grateful that you were so thorough.’
‘George Saxon and Son might not look much at the moment, but it was the finest garage in the area for nearly a century.’
‘Until it ran out of sons.’
‘Until it ran out of sons who wanted to be a replica of their father.’
‘It’s an equal-opportunities world, George.’
‘Actually, when I asked what you’re going to do, I meant without a car.’
Then, as Xandra returned, he leaned back against the table and folded his arms, rather like a shield, she thought.
‘You’ll be stranded on the wrong side of the ring road at the motel,’ he said, ‘and taxis aren’t cheap.’
‘Isn’t there a bus service?’
‘One or two a day, maybe, but it’s a motel,’ he pointed out. ‘A motor hotel. There isn’t a lot of demand for public transport.’
‘Annie could stay here tonight,’ Xandra intervened, in just the same casual manner as she’d handed her the door key and invited her to make herself a cup of tea.
George looked at the girl with something close to exasperation.
‘What?’ she demanded. ‘There’s plenty of room and Gran won’t mind.’
That he did couldn’t have been more obvious.
‘I think your grandmother has quite enough to cope with at the moment without taking in a total stranger,’ Annie said, rescuing him. ‘But thank you for the offer.’
She took her cellphone from her back pocket but, before she could switch it on, he took it from her with a warning look.
‘Actually,’ he said, ‘it would be easier if you stayed here. I’ll need you to deal with the paperwork in the morning.’ Then, ‘I’ll have more than enough to do without driving over to the motel.’
She doubted that, but she knew better than to take advantage of a man who’d been put in an impossible position. Even if he had taken advantage of her and kissed her.
‘No, really. You’ve done enough.’
‘True,’ he said distantly, returning her phone, ‘but I’ve no doubt you’ll be the perfect guest and help with the washing-up.’
That really was too much.
‘Maybe you should be the perfect son and buy your mother a dishwasher,’ she replied, responding in kind.
‘Sorry. I flunked that one years ago.’ Then, as the door opened behind him, ‘You’ve no objection to Annie staying, have you, Mum?’
‘Where else would she go?’ Then, as Annie placed the pie and vegetables on the table and she sank wearily into a chair, the phone began to ring.
‘I’ll go, Gran,’ Xandra said, leaping up.
‘No…It might be the hospital.’
George followed her from the room but was back in seconds. ‘It’s one of my mother’s friends. She said to start without her.’
‘We can wait.’
‘The way she’s settled herself in the armchair, I suspect it’s going to be a long one. No point in letting good food spoil.’
She ducked her head in an attempt to hide the blush that coloured her cheekbones at the simple compliment and, despite everything, he felt an answering warmth as he watched her cut into the pie. She was such a mixture of contradictions.
Assertive, poised, innocent…
She handed him a plate, then, as he helped himself to vegetables, she served Xandra and herself before putting the dishes back in the warming oven for his mother.
Xandra made a deeply appreciative moaning noise. ‘Real food. This is worth getting grounded for.’
‘It is good,’ Annie said swiftly, presumably to stop him from saying something inflammatory. Then spoiled it all by adding, ‘For pastry like this I’d come home every week.’
‘Once a year would be nearer the mark,’ Xandra said.
‘Are you suggesting it’s up to the standard of all those smart London restaurants you’re used to?’ he enquired, pretending he hadn’t heard. ‘Always assuming they served anything as basic as meat pie and mashed potato.’
‘It’s absolutely delicious,’ she said quickly, in an attempt to rescue the blunder. ‘But then I can’t actually remember the last time I was this hungry.’
From the way she was tucking in, it was clear that her thinness wasn’t the result of a desire to be size zero and he wondered what, exactly, she’d been going through that had driven her to fly from home. And, more to the point, who she’d made that
The one with the desperate
He pushed away the thought, not wanting to go there.
For the moment there was colour in her cheeks and, as she laughed out loud at something Xandra had said, her face was animated, alive. Then, as if she could sense his eyes on her, she turned, looked at him over those ridiculous frames.
The impact was almost physical.
Forget the fact that she was too thin, that dark smudges marred the porcelain-fine skin beneath her eyes.
It wasn’t that instant belt-in-the-gut sexual attraction that normally grabbed his attention and he was honest enough to admit that if he’d passed her in the street, head down, he probably wouldn’t have given her a second glance.
But he didn’t believe for a minute that she’d ever walk along a street with her head down.
Despite that oddly disturbing vulnerability, she possessed a rare presence, an ability to look him straight in the eye, hold her own in a confrontation.
Not the kind of woman, he’d have said, to run away from anything.
He pushed back his chair the minute he’d finished eating. ‘I’d better go and put Mike Jackson out of his misery,’ he said, desperate to get away from Annie’s unsettling presence. He made a general gesture that took in the table. ‘Thanks for doing this…’
‘I was glad to help.’ She continued to hold him captive with nothing more than a look for what felt like endless seconds. ‘Can I get you anything else?’ she asked as he lingered.
What on earth was the matter with him?
Annie was the kind of woman that no man with an atom of sense would get entangled with, especially not one who, having learned his lesson the hard way, could spot trouble a mile off.
‘Coffee?’ she prompted.
‘If I need anything I’ll get it myself,’ he said, forcing himself to move.
CHAPTER SIX
ANNIE felt the tension evaporate as George left the room, but it felt
