Appointment at the Altar

That’s what I call a real job.’

‘What, like working in a family bank? How stretching can that be?’

‘You’d be surprised.’ Guy was unfazed by her sarcasm. ‘I spent most of my twenties messing around like you. It wasn’t easy to settle down and learn to take work seriously, but I’ve learnt a lot.’

‘We don’t all want to be tied down to nine to five. Some of us are free spirits,’ she said grandly. ‘I deliberately choose short-term jobs that mean I can go where I want, when I want. It’s called being independent.’

‘Or is it called always taking the easy option? After all, nobody expects a temp to tackle anything very difficult, do they?’

Lucy’s blue eyes narrowed dangerously. ‘Are you suggesting that I’m lazy?’

‘Are you?’

‘No, and I resent the implication that I am! I worked really hard at Wirrindago.’

‘That’s true,’ he conceded. ‘But it wasn’t difficult. You didn’t try and do anything that you hadn’t done before. You’re a good cook, but turning out roast dinners and cakes isn’t exactly a challenge for you, is it? I doubt if you learnt anything more about yourself and what you’re capable of at Wirrindago,’ he said.

Lucy hunched a shoulder. ‘Why would I need to learn about myself? I know who I am.’

‘Do you?’ Guy didn’t bother to hide his scepticism. ‘You were very quick to issue challenges at the rodeo, Cinders, but have you ever thought about challenging yourself?’

‘Oh, please!’ She rolled her eyes extravagantly. ‘You sound like Meredith!’

He pointed his fork at her. ‘Or is the truth that you avoid challenging situations because you’re scared?’

‘What have I got to be scared about?’

‘You might be scared in case all this being a free spirit and choosing to be independent is really about running away from responsibility, about being afraid in case you can’t do anything more than mess around.’

‘That’s rubbish!’ said Lucy furiously. ‘I’m not scared of anything!’

Guy studied her face for a moment, and then he put down his fork with a faint smile as he leant across the table towards her.

‘Prove it,’ he said.

Prove it. Lucy stared back at him, hearing the echo of her own words at the rodeo. Prove it, she had said to him as they’d stood by that fence, surrounded by the heat and the noise and the smell of dust and horses, and he had.

‘I can’t just embark on a career just to prove to you that I’m not scared of responsibility,’ she said. ‘I’m going back to Australia as soon as I can, so the only job I can commit to is a temporary one. And I won’t need a fancy CV to get one either,’ she added, stung by his lack of belief in her. ‘I can get a job wherever and when ever I want,’ she declared and snapped her fingers between them. ‘Just like that!’

‘OK, then, let’s make it a different challenge.’ Guy rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. ‘Let’s see, it’s Thursday today. If you put your mind to it, you could get yourself a job tomorrow and start work on Monday.

‘And I don’t mean asking any of your friends to find you something,’ he warned as Lucy opened her mouth. ‘You have to do it on your own, and try something you’ve never done before, in a reputable organisation. No wacky outfits or off-beat cafes. I want you to prove to me that you can get a job and take it seriously.’

‘Even if it’s just a temporary job?’

‘Yes. How long do you think you’ll be here-a month? That’s long enough to prove that you’re not afraid to push yourself a bit harder.’

Lucy bit her lip. ‘You know, it would be a lot easier if you’d just take my word for it,’ she quoted, and Guy smiled, recognising his own words.

‘But then it wouldn’t be a challenge, would it, Cinders?’ The blue gaze held hers. ‘Well? Are you going to stick with what you know, or are you going to show me what you’re made of?’

‘I’ll do it if you promise never to call me Cinders again,’ she said grouchily.

Guy clicked his tongue in mock gentle reproof. ‘I’m the one setting the terms of the challenge here. You’ve had your go, and I don’t remember me being given any option to negotiate!’

‘Oh, very well.’ Lucy lifted her chin. ‘I’ll take your challenge. I need to get myself a job anyway, to keep me going until I know what’s happening with Richard. I can do that by Monday.’ Draining her glass, she met his eyes squarely. ‘You’re on!’

It had felt good to accept Guy’s challenge, but how exactly was she going to do it? Lucy wondered as they walked back to his apartment, having taken an extravagant farewell of Joe, the waiters and even the football fans who had come up after the match to enjoy a boisterous meal on the next table.

In spite of her confidence, she knew that serious jobs, even temporary ones, weren’t that easy to come by when all you really had going for you was charm of manner. She would find something though, Lucy vowed. Guy clearly thought that she was feckless, silly, lazy and spoilt-which was pretty good coming from someone who had apparently walked into a job in the family firm and didn’t appear to take anything seriously! Not everyone was lucky enough to have a handy bank in the family when it came to getting a job.

Well, she would show him. Lucy’s mouth set in a stubborn line. She would get herself a job at Dangerfield & Dunn itself. That ought to be a reputable enough organisation for him. The name of the family bank was emblazoned on message pads and stray pens and cards around Guy’s flat. It would be no problem to find their address on the Internet, and then all she would need to do was persuade someone there to give her a job.

Starting Monday.

Mentally, Lucy waved that aside as a minor detail to be dealt with at a later stage. Somehow she would get herself a job at Dangerfield & Dunn, she promised herself, and not only that, she would be the best employee they had ever had. Guy would be down on his knees begging her to stay before she left.

They were walking along the old quays of London’s docks, lined now with aggressively modern apartment blocks. The Thames gleamed dully, and the ghosts of the great ships that had once been tied to the massive bollards that were all that survived of those times seemed to shimmer in the fuzzy yellow light that was the closest London ever got to darkness.

Lucy shivered and pulled her jacket closer around her.

‘Cold?’

‘It’s not the outback, is it?’ she said by way of a reply. Pausing by one of the bollards, she looked out over the river. ‘At Wirrindago, the stars are incredible. So many of them, and so clear…’ She sighed a little, remembering. ‘You can’t see the stars at all here.’

‘It doesn’t mean they’re not there,’ said Guy. ‘But you’re right, a London night always seems a bit murky in comparison to Wirrindago. It’s a special place,’ he said, his voice warm with affection. ‘I do understand why you love it so much. I do, too.’

‘But you can go whenever you want,’ she pointed out. ‘Your mother’s Australian, so presumably you wouldn’t have any problem getting a visa,’ she added enviously. ‘You could live there if you wanted to.’

‘I could, but my life is here,’ he said. ‘My home, my work, friends, my mother…and, of course, my new girlfriend.’

New girlfriend? Lucy was alarmed by the way her heart plummeted at the thought. ‘I didn’t know you had a new girlfriend,’ she said as casually as she could.

‘Oh, yes, she’s very pretty.’ His smile gleamed in the darkness. ‘A little contrary at times, but she’s got the bluest blue eyes full of sunshine, and her hair is beautiful.’

Reaching out, he wound a stray tendril of Lucy’s hair around his finger, and she couldn’t prevent a treacherous shiver at the warm brush of his hand against her neck. ‘Some people might say it was blonde,’ he went on, his voice deep and rippling with laughter, ‘but it’s much more than that. It’s shot through with silver and spun gold, with amber and honey and sunlight, and it looks so silky that all you want to do is let it down and tangle your fingers in it.’

Half mesmerised by his voice and his smile and his nearness, it took Lucy a moment to realise that she could step back quite easily. ‘I’m not your girlfriend,’ she said, appalled at how breathless she sounded.

‘Well, that’s not what you were telling Richard’s parents earlier this evening!’ Guy clutched at his heart, pretending that he was wounded, and Lucy sucked in her breath, torn between intense irritation and a rather