I didn’t like leaving things undone, but I knew Martin deserved the chance to deal with his family on his own. I wanted to race back down to the palace and tell Jeanette myself and then take her in my arms and kiss her. But I couldn’t, not yet anyway.

How would she take the news? I knew she wasn’t in love with Lord Cameron, but knowing that he was only pursuing her because of the money would be a hard thing to come to terms with. I had already glimpsed her lack of self-esteem and something like this was only going to make it worse. The woman deserved to be showered with love and instead she was being traded. Lord Cameron would make her a viscountess, more than I could ever do for her, but he was going to do it at the expense of more than just the money she would lose in the deal. He’d already started the slow erosion of her self-image and I knew it would only get worse. Lord Cameron needed her money, but he would resent her because of it. The man would feel emasculated by his inability to provide for her and in turn he would seek to tear her down.

It was an unacceptable situation and I was relieved that we had found out before things went any further. I was determined to act if Martin didn’t. I would not let her marry him without her knowing all the facts. If she still chose to marry him after the fact… I couldn’t even entertain the thought of her choosing that life over a life with me. I knew I was not a lord, but I had made a nice chunk of change working for Brooks and the salary Freddie was paying me would fill my coffers nicely. I could provide for her without touching a dime of her money - not the trust or the dowry.

I rode more sedately back down the winding, wet roads. My thoughts were full of the future, a future that looked a lot brighter now that I may have a chance with Jeanette. I would just have to bide my time and, patience not being a strong point of mine, I was going to find it interminable. Until Martin shared the news with her, I had to keep quiet. I promised him I wouldn’t say anything, but it was going to be a chore to do so. And I was only going to keep quiet for so long. If Martin failed to act within a reasonable time, then I would take the matter into my own hands.

A flash of pink caught my attention and then it streaked by me.

Jeanette.

I turned my bike and gave chase, a shot of adrenalin infusing my veins. Why was she out riding in this? Had Martin already rung her to break the news? She was travelling way too fast for the conditions and I increased my speed in order to catch up with her. I came around the bend and saw her pulled over on the side of the road. At least she had remembered to put her kickstand down this time. I pulled up beside her bike and she turned to me, surprised.

God, she was beautiful. The wet leathers hugged her body and her long hair tumbled messily about her shoulders. The woman never seemed to suffer from helmet hair. I pulled my own helmet off and stowed it before walking to her.

“Drew,” she said as I got closer.

“Jeanette,” I replied.

I stood close to her, invading her personal space, but not touching her. She was tall, even without heels, but I was taller and she still had to tilt her face up to look me in the eyes. The action stretched her neck and exposed the creamy length of her throat and my gaze dropped to the pulse that fluttered under the skin. I wanted to put my mouth there. I wanted to taste her skin and breathe in her scent. My eyes travelled back up to her face and the glossy pink of her lips caught my attention next. I’d had a brief taste of those soft pillows and it had not been enough. I wanted to kiss her, for real this time, with no interruptions. Her lips parted as if she read my mind and it took an effort not to lower my head to hers. Instead I dragged my eyes up, passed her nose and along the flushed pink of her cheeks to the elegant sweep of her eyebrow and finally I looked into her eyes. I saw forever in them, or maybe that was just the reflection of what was in mine.

“What are you doing here Drew?” she asked, her voice breathless.

“You passed me on the road,” I said, lifting a hand and fingering a tendril of her hair. I wrapped it around my finger, feeling the soft silkiness of it against the harsh callouses. “I was concerned about you.”

Her eyes fluttered for a moment and she took a breath. I was afraid she would step away from me, but she didn’t. Rather, her body seemed to drift closer to me.

“I was having a difficult day at work,” she said, her eyes dropping the zip of my jacket. She lifted her hand and fiddled with the silver pull tab on the zipper. “I needed to get out.”

“You were riding too fast,” I murmured, “You could have hurt yourself.”

“I know,” she whispered, still not looking at me, “That’s why I pulled over. Don’t drive angry, right?”

She looked up at me then and I couldn’t have stopped what happened next even if I’d wanted to. The pull between us was too strong. So, as the rain fell, soaking us both, I lowered my head to hers and kissed her.

His lips covered mine and he stole my breath. They were soft and plush and warm and my eyes rolled back in my head as they slid over mine. He was tentative at first, waiting for me to pull away, but I wouldn’t… couldn’t break the contact between us. His hand wove into my wet hair, cupping the back of my head as he increased the pressure on my lips and I felt my bones melt and my body go lax as I leant into him, giving him permission.

We’d been circling each other for days, months even. Ever since the first time he’d tried to kiss me on the dance floor. I knew I should pull away, but I didn’t want to. That first time had been rudely interrupted by my brother, but no one was going to interrupt us now and I would finally get to know what it felt like to be kissed by a real man. I’d been kissed before, but they had always been polite ‘English’ kisses by men who were timid and shy. Drew was neither of those and I felt it in the press of his lips and the strength of his fingers as they gripped my waist.

I didn’t care that it was raining or that we were on the side of the road. Everything about the moment felt perfect - preordained even. This was a moment to remember. An unforgettable kiss from a man who had been invading my thoughts for months. A man who, if the world was a perfect place, would be the man I’d want to spend the rest of my life with.

His tongue slid across my lip and my mouth opened instinctively, pushing the unwanted thoughts away. He didn’t devour me, although I would have been helpless to resist if he did. No, he took his time, exploring my mouth, tasting me. It was languorous, luxurious, slow. Time stretched, my hands curled into the supple leather of his jacket and a small sigh escaped my mouth. And that’s when the fantasy ended.

My eyes popped open, my body stiffened and instead of pulling him closer, I was pushing him away. I tore my mouth from his and stepped back, panting.

“You can’t do that,” I said, my voice shaky and uncertain.

“I think I just proved that I can.”

“I’m seeing someone—”

He snorted and he looked away from me, swallowing, his jaw bulging as he got his temper under control. He looked back at me, eyes flashing. “That spineless wimp? He could never make you happy, Jeanette.”

“He’s exactly what I want—”

“No,” Drew growled, “he’s only what you think you want.”

“Isn’t that the same thing?”

He stepped close to me, one hand on my waist, drawing me into his body, the other hand cupping my cheek. “Does he make you feel like this when he kisses you?” he asked before taking my lips again in another startling kiss.

No. He didn’t. Lord Cameron had never kissed me like that. Lord Cameron had never actually kissed me. His touch didn’t make me tremble, or my breath hitch or my body warm. My head swam as Drew continued to kiss me, his lips insistent, beckoning, urging. I wanted to give in to them, but I couldn’t. I had a plan. I wasn’t this woman who stole kisses from motorcycle riding, leather wearing men. I was a good girl who did what she was told and tried to keep her mother and her brothers happy. I wasn’t a rebel, despite the bike and the leathers and the rebellious feelings that had been teasing me lately. I had never wanted an alpha male or a bad boy. I had enough alpha males in my life that I didn’t need another one. But I couldn’t deny that Lord Cameron never had this effect on me. Which was a good thing, right?

“We can’t do this,” I said, pushing away from him, “I can’t do this.”

“Dammit Jeanette,” he said, his fists clenching at his sides. “Why are you running from me, from this, from what we could be?”

But he knew. I didn’t have to say the words, because he knew. Maybe it was selfish and shallow, but I knew what I wanted and as much as I was attracted to the very angry, very male man before me, he didn’t meet all the requirements for my future husband. My mother would never approve. My brothers wouldn’t let me be with a man like this.

I turned to go, but his hand clasped around my wrist, gently tugging me back against his chest.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into my hair, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

He turned me and I burrowed into his chest, his arms going around me and holding me close. We had become friends and I thought that’s all I wanted from him, thought that was all he wanted from me. The attraction between us had been simmering slowly and now it overflowed, no longer satisfied with being ignored. The irony was that being in his arms felt so right, like we were two puzzle pieces that fit together. It was completely absurd. He was a man who grew up on a farm before fighting his way to the top in business. I was a pampered lady without a title, but living the life of a peer. We came from two completely different and irreconcilable worlds. We shouldn’t fit.

“I’m sorry too,” I whispered into his chest. “If things were different…” I didn’t have to say anymore, because he knew.

With a sigh, he stepped away from me and I felt the loss keenly. It was just a physical stepping away, but I felt him pull away emotionally too. I felt the wall go back up between us, the wall that had so recently been smashed to pieces by his kiss. Brick by brick it went back up and I saw his eyes shutter even as he smiled ruefully at me.

“Friends?” he asked, sliding his hands into his pockets.

“Friends,” I replied before turning and fleeing from him.

I was wet and cold by the time I returned to the palace. I refused to think about what had just happened between Drew and I - steadfastly refused. I did not think about it as I rode through the wet streets. I did not think about it when I hurriedly changed clothes in my storage shed. And I definitely did not think about it while I was driven back to the palace.

With the tenacity of an Olympic weightlifter, I strode purposefully through the palace halls to my office and sat at my desk. I picked up the pile of résumés I had been looking through on behalf of Freddie and buried myself in work. I was absolutely determined to force the incident with Drew from my mind with whatever I could find.

I could still feel his lips on mine and his scent was in my nose. I shut down the part of my brain that wanted to replay the incident over and over again on a loop. I refused to acknowledge it, instead picking up a CV of a woman who smiled back at me from her picture. The blonde, blue-eyed beauty had an impressive curriculum vitae. Her work experience and education were extensive - she was almost too good to be true. Then I saw her address. Australia. I growled low in my throat. The last thing we needed in Merveille was another Australian.

I sighed and rolled my head in an effort to crack my neck. There was a tension headache building at the base of my skull and I knew from experience it would take my special combination of ibuprofen and paracetamol, a large glass of water, and twelve hours sleep to rid myself of it. The only problem with that plan was it meant I would be alone with little to occupy my mind and thoughts of Drew would be free to torture me.

I gave myself a quick head massage, concentrating on the pressure points where my head and my neck joined and then refocussed on the résumé in front of me. Elise Thatcher was Australian, but more than willing to relocate internationally. I had a brief thought that she and Drew might know each other and then dismissed it as ridiculous. Australia was a large, if not densely populated, country. There was no reason to think that the two of them would know each other.

I checked my watch and did the time difference calculations in my head. I lifted the handset of my desk phone and pressed the numbers. The phone rang on the other end two and then three times before the call was answered.

“Hello, Elise speaking.”

“Hello Elise,” I said, “My name is Jeanette Bower. I’m calling in regards to the application you submitted for media liaison with Monticorp. Is now a good time to talk?”

“Oh, Ms. Bower,” she replied and I could tell she was smiling, “Now is the perfect time to chat.”

“Excellent,” Jeanette said, “I just have a few quick questions for you and then we can set up a more formal Skype interview at a later date if this goes well.”

“Thank you for the opportunity,” Elise said.

“Tell me about the work you are doing now,” I said, wanting to get the preliminary questions out of the way.

I listened and made notes as she answered my questions. She was intelligent and friendly - I had no doubt that the Merveille press corps would love her. When we ended the conversation, I made a Skype appointment with her and then shot an email to Freddie giving my recommendations and the time for the interview.

This was not the first candidate that I had interviewed or the first one that I’d recommended to Freddie. Over the last week I had been setting aside a portion of my day to finding a media liaison for Monticorp and I felt we were getting closer with each one. Freddie would make the final call - he was hands-on when it came to employing his staff - but he would listen to my thoughts on the matter. So far, I felt that the top two candidates were a man by the name of Michael Danforth and this woman, Elise Thatcher.

Pain shot through my left eyeball and I knew it was time to leave my work behind and attend to the headache. I locked my computer and stood wearily from the desk. The darkness of my office as I switched off the light was a welcome relief. My office was one of the internal rooms with no window which I didn’t mind in the least. I locked my door and trudged the short distance to my room, not bothering to turn on any lights. I changed out of my clothes and pulled on a comfy, oversized t-shirt before lifting the phone by the bed and dialling my lady’s maids.

“I’m retiring for the night,” I said to Francesca when she answered. “I don’t want to be disturbed.”

I took the two ibuprofen and two paracetamol with a large glass of water and crawled into the large bed, burrowing under the duvet. It might be summer outside, but in my room the temperature was a climate controlled twenty-two degrees Celsius. Cool enough to still sleep with a cover, but not too cold that I had to rug up. I liked it that way. It helped me to sleep being cocooned in my bedclothes.

My pillow was soft and I sighed as I closed my eyes, drifting off to sleep. My last thought was of Drew and I smiled. I indulged one last thought of the way it had felt to be in his arms before I slipped into the numbness of sleep.