David was tired and still in a filthy mood. The last thing he’d wanted to see was the Aussie woman on his doorstep again. The last two days had been a total loss as far as rehearsals went. First, the electrical setup had failed and then the stage had collapsed and they’d had to pull the pin on a full rehearsal for the second day in a row. He was worried that they were going to look like fools at the concert on Saturday night. They were opening for Bowie and the crowd was predicted to be huge for this second festival.

Then Holly had presented him with that bloody newspaper. She’d jumped around in excitement, telling him what great media coverage it was, and how she couldn’t have set up anything better if she’d tried.

“It’ll pull the crowds in, Davy.” Her face was lit up in a grin beneath that stupid red hat she thought made her look like a hippie. “They so love a bad boy.”

Bear had glanced over at him and had shaken his head slightly, as if to say “don’t lose your cool,” but David had lost it anyway. Holly had opened her mouth to speak but he’d wrenched the paper from her hands and torn it in half.

“Get rid of it, and don’t encourage them. The only publicity I want is about how good our music is. None of that other gossip shite. Is that clear?” He’d glared at her and wasn’t aware he’d taken her arm until Slim came over and pulled her away from him. David dropped the torn pages onto the floor and kicked at them. “For Christ’s sake. They write lies, and all you can say is that it will pull the fucking crowds in?”

Holly had scurried away across the stage. “You want to sell records, Davy? You put up with it.” She’d looked at him defiantly as she stood at a safe distance, behind Bear and his drums. “Get over it. And all publicity is good. You want to make the big time or not?”

“I don’t care what they make up. It has nothing to do with our music.”

“Ah, a purist.” Holly’s voice was cynical. “You want truth and light, man. Maybe you’d better go and join a symphony orchestra and play classical music for the BBC.”

David shook his head and forgot all about Holly and her drivel as he moved across to the kitchen window to tip his coffee dregs into the sink. A movement next door caught his attention. His new neighbour was wandering around in her back garden. He’d dreamed about her all night. He’d been so wired, he’d gotten up early to do some writing. Rose-red lips, glorious hair, and a body begging to be loved; it was as if she’d bewitched him. The crazy dreams had stayed with him after he had woken up, dreams of touching her and his hands overflowing with her tears even as he held her breasts. She’d stared deep into his eyes and he’d felt as though his soul had been exposed to her. He’d still been thinking about her when she’d appeared on his porch this morning.

But she’d come back over to get her bag, not to connect with him. He’d forgotten all about it, or he would have put it on her porch last night. He’d gotten a jolt in his chest when he’d heard her out there. Despite the crumpled shirt and jeans she looked like something out of a fairytale. All that tumbling hair and those bright-red lips.

And she had attitude.

It was a shame he wasn’t interested. He frowned and shook his head.

I’m not.

After he’d strummed his guitar softly in the early hours, new words and notes had poured out of him and he’d written a great new song. The only reason he was unsettled was because of the rehearsal fiasco, nothing to do with his next-door neighbour. He was always on edge before a concert.

 But to stay safe, he’d ignore her presence next door. His cottage had been private for the past few years; the one she was in wasn’t rented very often and the owners never came near it.

The phone rang and pulled him out of his thoughts.

Clive, his banker, greeted him and he moved back to the window and watched the girl as she stood in the backyard. She stared out across the fields, sipping from the mug he had handed her. He realised he didn’t even know her name, but damn it, he was intrigued. It was the dreams that were getting him wound up, not her.

“David, are you listening to me?”

“Yeah, I’m listening.”

“You’re going to have to come to the city today and sign some papers.”

“I can’t. Rehearsal got messed up yesterday. I can’t come to London until after the festival.”

He leaned his head on the window and rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand.

Why was life always so bloody complicated?

“If you can’t come to London, I’ll meet you halfway. Or better still, I can try to get the documents expressed to a bank down where you are.”

“Send them to Taunton. I’ll drive across first thing in the morning. What’s so hell-fired urgent, Clive?”

“The latest transfer to the Caymans. There’s a new condition you have to initial before we can transfer the funds. I can’t do it for you.”

David sighed. “All right. If you can’t get it there by tomorrow, make sure you let me know. I don’t want to make a trip for nothing. We’re bloody short of time.”

“Yes, and I know what a perfectionist you are.” Clive ended the call and David glanced out the window again, but she was gone. It was time to head across to the farm for rehearsal. He’d spent more than enough time mooning around like a lovesick teenager.

Five minutes later, David had thrown on a T-shirt and grabbed his guitar. He opened the back gate, ignoring the woman who was now sitting in an alcove at the back of the cottage next door.

Shit. One of the reasons he stayed in this place for the festival was because it was so isolated. He could come and go as he pleased without being seen. If she made a habit of sitting there, he was going to have to be very careful.

Taking a different path than usual, he crossed the newly mown grass and walked along the path to the River Brue, before doubling back to the intersection of the ley lines to find the gate. The houses were in the distance and he raised one hand to shade his eyes and see if she was watching, but there was no sign of her. Finding the stone markers, he stepped to the line, and closed his eyes as the air shimmered around him.

***

Megan had tried to call Tony as soon as she woke up, before it was too late at night back home in Australia, but her phone had gone dead. She’d tried to charge it but she’d forgotten all about the different power outlets here. Hopefully, it wasn’t too far to the village because she’d need to buy an adapter. While she was there she would try to find a computer to check her e-mail because her laptop didn’t work either.

After she placed her suitcase inside the front door, she wandered out back with her coffee and found a lovely little nook covered in a vine with pretty pink flowers spilling along the back of the cottage. A small table and chairs were tucked into the sunny corner. She looked around with surprise. For a house that no one lived in, the garden was neat and tidy and the grass was clipped. The roses along the fence needed deadheading, but apart from that, the backyard was pretty.

With a quick brush of the dead leaves off the table, she settled down to a lovely view of the grassy fields. The fragrance of the roses and violets overlaid the aroma of the coffee and she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Truly a beautiful place.

Soothing for my soul.

It was much needed and she was so grateful to Beth’s family for letting her stay here for the duration of her visit. And even the Davy Morgan look-alike next door had shown some manners this morning.

Until he slammed the door in my face.

She tipped her head back to the bright morning sun. Nothing seemed as bad as it had last night. A good night’s sleep, despite being filled with bizarre dreams about a rock star with long black curls and deep blue eyes, had left her refreshed and with a strange warmth low in her belly. As she sat out in the fresh clean air, serenity stole over her. The sound of a lone tractor winding up and down around the field between her and the village was the only sound, apart from the birds. Glancing at her watch, she was taken aback to see it was almost noon. She was going to have to walk into Glastonbury to get the power adapter and some food, and find a plumber to sort this lack of water out. Leaning forward, she emptied the now cold coffee into the garden as a movement at the back of the cottage next door caught her attention. A tall dark figure slipped through the fence and walked across the field, with a guitar slung casually over his shoulder. The sun glinted off his jet-black hair and he glanced across but didn’t even acknowledge her with a wave.

Megan looked away and ignored him, and by the time she glanced back through the kitchen window as she put the mug in the sink, he had disappeared.

Fine. He’d kindly given her coffee but she’d ignore him from now on. If he wanted to be as rude and obnoxious as he’d been last night, she wanted nothing more to do with him. She might see him playing at the festival. As soon as she got to a computer, she’d Google him. As far as she knew, she’d never seen a mention of him in the lineup of bands. She knew her music inside out, but she’d never heard of Davy Morgan having a nephew who was well known enough to play at Glastonbury. And as far as she knew, her Davy Morgan, the idol of her teenage years, was still alive and had retired to the Cayman Islands.

##

“Sorry, love. No Wi-Fi, no phone, and cell service is spotty.” The grooves on either side of the woman’s mouth deepened as she frowned. “The magnetics have been on the rise more than usual this year. It’s the summer solstice coming on.”

Megan shook her head, not having a clue of what the crazy woman in the village shop was talking about. Clad in a bright-purple apron and bright-green leggings, with her steel-gray hair scraped back into a severe bun, she had been talking nonstop since Megan stepped into the dingy shop. All she wanted to do was call or e-mail Beth and Tony, and let them know she was settled in the cottage and to find out any more news about her suspension.

“What do you mean, the magnetics?”

The woman shook her arms and a jangle of coloured plastic bracelets clattered together on her wrists.

“The lines? Ye’ve not heard of the lines?” She leaned her arms on the counter of the dark, cluttered store.

Megan shook her head again. “No.”

“The ley lines are the connections between the ancient monuments.” She looked at Megan as though she was the crazy one. “When the summer and winter solstices arrive each year, they play havoc with everything. Phone, Internet, water.”

The shopkeeper wrapped up the packet of coffee, the bottle of milk, and the fruit Megan had brought to the counter. She placed it all in a brown paper bag along with the can of soup Megan had chosen for her dinner.

“Do you sell power adapters here?”

“No, love. You’ll have to go into Taunton for that.” The woman looked curiously at her as she passed her the groceries. “Just here for the festival, are you?” she asked.

“Yes, I am.” Megan handed over some money.

“Are you staying in the pub or camping out at the farm?”

“I’m staying at the McLaren cottage.”

The woman passed the package across the counter. “Say hello to Alice for me if you see her.”

“Alice?” Megan stared at her in confusion. “I thought she’d passed away?”

The woman nodded. “Yes, two winters back. But she loved her little cottage and she’s been seen there a few times since then.”

Megan gripped the bag of groceries and headed through the dim shop towards the door. It looked as though she wasn’t going to get a sensible conversation in here, but the woman kept talking as she came from behind the counter and followed Megan to the door.

“Well, you watch yourself getting to the festival. Make sure you take the road. Don’t go crossing those fields. There are mounds and marker stones scattered all the way from Alice’s cottage to the Pilton farm.” She followed Megan past the crowded shelves. “If you’re not careful, dear, you’re likely to find yourself who knows when. A lot of people have gone missing at this time of the year. God knows where they’ve ended up.”

The woman walked across to the shelf, shaking her head and muttering, as Megan headed for the door, and sunshine, and sanity.

Haunted cottages and ending up in another time? Was the woman demented?

Surely there was a post office in this little village. Or maybe the pub had a Wi-Fi connection?

“Oh, and dear?” The querulous old voice followed her to the door and she paused.

“How’s your water?”

“My water?”

What the heck is she talking about?

“Is the water still working in Alice’s cottage?”

“Ah, no. There’s something wrong with the pipes.”

“Don’t worry. It’ll come back on after the solstice. It’s all the witching rods they’re using down at the festival looking for the springs. In the meantime, you’d better buy up on the bottled water.” The woman bustled back around the counter and reached beneath and followed Megan outside. “Here’s a couple of bottles to keep you going. I’ll get Ned to drop a water container off when he comes back from his deliveries, so you can bathe.”

Megan reached into her purse but the woman shook her head

“No worries. If you are staying in Alice’s cottage, I’ll add it to the account and you can settle up when you go. Now you take good care, dear, and heed my words. I heard they found the spring at the farm for this newfangled stage and everyone on the southern line lost their water.”

Megan forced a smile onto her face as she backed out of the store. “Thank you, I will.” She couldn’t get out of there quick enough.

Crazy woman.

She’d go find some lunch and ask where she could find a plumber to sort out the water problem.

There was no sign of a post office, but a whitewashed pub was located on the other side of the village green. Megan wanted to pinch herself. This quaint English village was just as she’d imagined it would be. A couple of white geese wandered across the street, honking as they headed to the small brook running behind the shops. She pushed open the door of the old tavern building and was relieved to see it full of young people in casual clothes. After ordering her lunch, she picked up a drink from the bar and headed out the back towards the last vacant table. There was no sign of a computer or even a public phone, and thoughts of her appeal began to crowd into her head as the worry of not being able to contact home tugged at her.

She put her head back and closed her eyes, ignoring the sick feeling in her stomach. Taking a deep breath, she focused on the warmth of the sun on her skin, letting her mind drift to that place deep inside where she could ignore the problems waiting for her at home.

Focus on the present. Deep breathing.

The warmth on her shoulders suddenly increased, and she opened her eyes to a pair of deep blue eyes staring down at her.

Turning her groan into a cough, she stared back at him.

“Well?” David said. The look on her neighbour’s face indicated he expected some sort of an answer. She shrugged her shoulder and pushed away his hand but the pleasant warmth lingered even after his hands were back by his side.

“Well, what?” she asked primly.

“Can we share your table?”

Megan glanced behind him. Two other men who were engaged in a heated conversation were obviously the ‘we’ he referred to.

“It’s a big table for one person and the pub is packed. Unless you’re expecting company?”

She moved down on the bench and shook her head. “No, go ahead. I’m just having a quick lunch and then you can have the table to yourselves.”

“Don’t rush on our account, love.” The big man standing behind David slid onto the bench opposite her and held a beefy hand out. “Davy said you’re his new neighbour, so we didn’t think you’d mind us asking to share your table. Any friend of Davy is a friend of the band’s.”

Megan reached over and took the proffered hand as the guy kept talking. “I’m Bear and this is Slim. We play backup for Davy, here. Stage isn’t ready so we came to grab a bite before we start rehearsal this afternoon.” A tall guy with shoulder-length hair in a black T-shirt gave her a wave from the other end of the table. A frisson of familiarity ran through her.

Bear and Slim? She knew those names from somewhere. She racked her brain but couldn’t remember where. Maybe their names were on the program she’d read for the festival?

Holding her breath, she glanced to the side as her neighbour from next door slid onto the bench beside her. He looked at her without smiling and her breath caught. The uncanny resemblance to his uncle was striking and she felt like a star struck teenager with her mouth gaping open.

“All settled in?”

“Almost.” She turned away from him and tried to gather her composure. “I just need to get the water turned on and find a Wi-Fi connection.”

Bear threw his head back and laughed. “Good luck, sweets. Everything’s haywire here at the moment.”

David frowned at him and interjected. “Yes, a cable must have been cut when they were setting up the festival. Wi-Fi seems to be down all around the district.”

She looked at him curiously. “Do you live here all the time or are you on holiday?”

“I live here some of the time. Why?”

“I was wondering if you could recommend a plumber. There seems to be no water at the cottage.”

“No, I couldn’t.” His voice was terse and he obviously didn’t want to talk to her. Megan moved her leg away, trying to ignore the warmth of his jean-clad thigh close to hers.

Moody bastard. She’d shared her table on his request. If he couldn’t be civil, he could go find another table.

While he stared away in the distance, the other two men engaged her in conversation for a few minutes. To her relief all of their meals arrived at the same time.

She wouldn’t have to stay and be polite too long. The last thing she felt like was being sociable in a pub; even if it was an English pub and a beautiful afternoon.

“So you’re here for the festival?” Bear looked at her across his bowl of chips and she was aware of David pausing as she answered.

“Yes, I’m here to do some research for my thesis,” she replied.

“We can get you some backstage passes if you want.” Bear winked at her and took a swig of his second pint of beer.

“No, thank you. Mr. Morgan here has already made me a few offers, which I’ve rejected.”

Bear slapped his thigh and his booming laugh sounded around the garden, and a few heads turned. “Was he rude to you? He tries to keep this bad-boy rock star thing going.”

Megan looked at David to gauge his mood but his expression was inscrutable. “Let’s just say, I know that David doesn’t like having neighbours.”

“Well, that’s because—”

“Bear.” David’s voice was clipped and the other man stopped talking immediately. “Put a lid on it. You’ve had too much beer in the sun.”

After a moment, Bear dropped his eyes and muttered into his drink. “Sorry. Forgot when we were.”

“Where we were,” David said loudly.

“Yeah, where we were.”

Megan gathered up the paper her sandwich had been wrapped in and stood. “I’ll leave you to it. It was nice to meet you .”

Actually it was decidedly unpleasant; the friendly conversation had ceased and the atmosphere had become uncomfortable, but they could still help her out with a bit of local knowledge.

 “Do you know where I would find a phone that works or an Internet connection that hasn’t been affected by the cut cable?”

She was surprised to notice a furtive glance between the two men, who both turned to David.

“You really need to get access?” His voice was reluctant.

“I need to check my e-mail and call home. My cell is dead and I need to buy a power adapter.” She expelled her breath and continued. “It’s not life-threatening, but I do really need to check on a situation that I left at home before I left Australia.”

“Man trouble?” David stood and shook the crumbs from his shirt.

“No, I don’t have ‘man’ trouble.” Her voice was terse.

For goodness sake, was the man focused on sex?

“I have an issue at work to sort out.” Megan gathered up her grocery parcels and turned to him before she walked away. She lifted her chin and stared at him. “Luckily it’s only men who base everything on sex or the world would be in chaos.”

Bear and Slim burst out laughing and she nodded at them.

“Nice to meet you, gentlemen. I might see you on stage.”

They grinned and Bear shook his head.

“Not this year,” he said enigmatically.

##

As she walked around the corner of the pub back towards the green, a hand grabbed at her arm and she came to a sudden stop. Slowly turning around, she looked into a black T-shirt and raised her eyes to meet the deep blue gaze fixed on her. She waited as David stared at her.

He ran his other hand through his loose black curls and a shiver trickled down her back, contrasting with the warmth of his hand still gripping the top of her arm. Their gazes met and held, and the feeling intensified. Her blood hummed in response to his look and she swallowed, waiting for him to speak.

“Look, I’m sorry for being so rude last night.” His voice was deep. “I thought you knew who I was and that you’d come looking for me.” His mouth lifted slightly in a wry grin. “It sounds egotistical, but as strange as you might find it, it does happen, you know.”

“Well, you needn’t worry about me because I’ve never heard of you.” Megan still hadn’t forgotten the assumptions he’d made last night. She kept her voice cold as she fought the warmth rushing through her body. David still held her arm firmly, and the heat radiated from his fingers and ended up low in her belly.

“That’s good.” He ran his other hand through his loose curls. “Look, all I want is privacy. This time of the year with the festival brings all types of people into town. We’ve had a few journalists in the village trying to dig up some dirt on us. Anything to sell a magazine or newspaper.” He looked away and seemed to be talking to himself. “They never seem to let the truth get in the way of a good story.”

“I know what you mean.” But despite feeling a measure of sympathy, she looked pointedly down at his hand. He didn’t take the hint and Megan fought the desire to lean into his chest. His words had resonated with her and she clenched her fists. He was so close to her, his woodsy cologne enveloped her and she stepped back, catching her breath.

“Look, I can probably help you and be a bit neighbourly. I have to go into Taunton tomorrow morning, so if you want to come with me, the offer is there. There’s are a few cafés and a library with Wi-Fi. There’s nothing in the village. We’re a bit behind the times here.”

For a moment, Megan considered refusing his offer and then realised she couldn’t afford to. She had to see what was happening back in Sydney. How Tony was progressing with the appeal. And also checking that Kathy was okay.

And whether I’ll have a job to go back to. She could buy a power adapter while they were there, and then she could charge her cell phone and her laptop and not have to depend on him being neighbourly. She sensed he was already regretting the offer to help her out. David Morgan was a strange man.

“Thank you. That’s very kind.”

“Be ready at eight. I’m only going in for an hour or so. I have to be back for rehearsal. With all the problems we’ve had, we’re way behind.”

He turned on his heel and headed back to his band members, but not before Megan noticed how well his jeans fit to a set of powerful thighs.

She reached up and brushed her fingers across the top of her arm where he had gently gripped her.

Get over it. That’s the last thing I need. A holiday fling.

Just use him as an opportunity to find out more about Davy Morgan. What an opportunity had landed in her lap. Meeting the nephew of the man she’d been obsessed with since her teens.

What were the chances of that? She’d be crazy to let it go.

A smile tugged at her lips. As crazy as the woman in the grocery store.

 If nothing else, her first twenty-four hours in England had been far from boring.