With an effort, she jerked herself back to the task at hand. Her appearance was the least of her worries, and why she should care what she looked like when she would never set eyes on this man again was beyond her. By nature, she was calm and collected too.
"Hardly." She shot him a withering look. "This key's faulty. Either that or they've given me the wrong key."
"Or you've got the wrong car?" he suggested mildly.
She glared at him. "I don't think that's likely, since this is the only red one here."
"Apart from that one down there, perhaps?" He pointed down to the far end, and when Laura stepped back a few paces to see right to the end of the row, sure enough, there was another red car hidden beyond a van.
"But I checked the licence plate!" she declared, already doubting herself as she glanced down at her papers. With something bordering on despair, she realised that in her hurry, she hadn't checked properly. This was so unlike her! Furious with herself, she walked back to the car door and pulled at the key, but it was stuck fast.
He moved to her side. "Allow me."
"Thank you, Mr. Stone, but you don't have to trouble yourself. This is my problem. I created it and it's up to me to fix it."
"Actually, it's my problem, too. It's my hire car you're breaking into."
Laura closed her eyes in exasperation. Of course it was. She stood to one side. As he moved past her in the narrow space between the parked cars, his light woodsy aftershave sent a frisson of . . . something along her nerve ends. Alarmed, she surreptitiously shifted away from him.
With long, deft fingers, he fiddled patiently with the key until he released it. Straightening, he handed it to her, took his own out of his pocket, and opened the door with ease.
Gathering her handbag and trolley, Laura opened her mouth to apologise, but once more she was thwarted.
"I sincerely hope you get to wherever you're going without further mishap," he said. "Although somehow I doubt that's possible." And with that, he climbed into the car, closed the door, and started the engine, leaving her standing there with her mouth gaping open.
Unable to think of a response that would be remotely ladylike, Laura stalked down the row to her own car, unlocked it, climbed in, and opened the windows to let air into the stifling vehicle. Adjusting the rearview mirror, she pulled a face. It had been a long day and it showed. Her violet-blue eyes were tired and shadowed, her hair had escaped from its clips and stuck to her hot forehead, and any trace of makeup she'd applied that morning had long since disappeared. She was desperately in need of an early night, but a quick shower when she arrived would have to do, and then straight into helping out as promised.
Despite her impatience to be on the move and get some air circulating, Laura waited a few minutes before setting off. She needed to calm down before she attempted to join the heavy traffic, and she wanted to be sure Daniel Stone was well out of harm's way. The last thing she needed was to run into the back of his car on the way out.
Finally leaving the airport, Laura confidently headed north. The first time she'd driven over here, she'd found it challenging. Since this was now her fifth summer in Portugal, it didn't worry her anymore, which was more than she could say about her encounters with Daniel Stone. She'd been in the wrong, she knew that, and she supposed she hadn't been gushingly polite about it, but anyone could make a mistake. Or two.
Except Laura didn't usually make mistakes—she was rarely anything other than organised and capable. Over the years she'd had no choice but to get it down to a fine art, and nowadays it was the only way she knew how to be. As a teacher, it was the only way to be. The fact that Mr. Stone obviously thought she was a bumbling idiot annoyed her, although why she should care what a complete stranger thought, she had no idea. Their paths were hardly likely to cross again.
Laura made a deliberate effort to blot him from her mind. Her trip might have had a shaky start, but she had three glorious weeks ahead of her. All she had to do was take care of guests on arrival and departure, and be in reception for a couple of hours each morning and evening. In return, she had a room to herself, use of the pool and grounds, and plenty of time to enjoy them in. Paulo even insisted on paying for her flight and hire car. What more could she ask for?
As the outskirts of Porto gave way to the green countryside of the Costa Verde, Laura eased up on her speed. It stood to reason that any guests due tonight would also be late, since they must have been on the same flight as her, and she had the advantage of knowing the way. By six o'clock, she was skirting around the busy town centre of Viana do Castelo to head north through green farmland and forest. Taking the turn to the Quinta Maria, her car bounced down a country lane past fields and farmhouses until she drove through the stately stone gateway that led into the grounds.
Laura barely had a chance to climb from the car before Rachel ran up and caught her in a tight hug. Paulo wasn't far behind, closely followed by his mother and sister. Overwhelmed by their affectionate greetings, she fought back tears.
"You look worn-out!" Rachel exclaimed. "Bad journey?"
"I'm okay." Laura failed to hide the weariness she felt. "There was a mix-up over my luggage and another over the hire car. Still, I'm here now."
Just mentioning the incidents immediately conjured up a picture in her mind of Daniel Stone's face, and
