Perfect Strangers

‘It’s. . .not far from here. Just a mile or so along this road, as I said,’ she informed him slowly. The dark eyes were looking at the road ahead now and she was able to feel more composed. ‘There’s a turning off to the left. You can’t see that much of the cottage from the road, but it backs onto fields. There’s a stream and a public footpath which runs near by and both lead directly into the village.’ She was gabbling, and that was unlike her. She took a steadying breath. ‘It’s called—’

‘I know what it’s called. Honeysuckle Cottage.’

She tried to ignore the challenge in his eyes, but it was too strong, too infuriating. ‘So you live near?’ The question was out of her mouth before she could stop it.

He threw her an enigmatic look. ‘Not far.’

‘In the village?’

He looked at her thoughtfully for a moment. ‘Not in the village, no. I have a place a couple of miles from here.’ There was a slight pause. ‘So, you’ve decided to buy this quaint little cottage.’ He surveyed her with a curious expression. ‘I wonder why.’

His direct gaze unsettled her, but she fought hard and managed not to let that fact show. ‘I felt like a change.’

‘Some change.’

A silence fell. Olivia looked down at her lap and wondered again if she had made the worst, most foolish decision of her entire life. Hell! What if she had? No job. No friends. She thought of the winter, cold and isolated and desolate.

‘A penny for them? Or are highly paid executives’ thoughts worth far more?’

Olivia glanced up and cursed silently; how did he know the sort of life she had led? Why couldn’t that stupid taxi driver have driven more carefully? Why had she ever had to meet this man? ‘There’s no need to mock!’ she retorted. ‘Are you always this infuriating?’

‘Not often. In fact, I can’t think of the last time I was so tempted. It’s been months. . .years,’ he added quietly.

‘Well, do you think you could cease laughing at my expense?’ Olivia snapped. ‘I’m not in the mood.’

‘It’s been quite a day, I should imagine.’ Dark eyes speared her face. ‘A shock to the system,’ he murmured softly.

Olivia felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up on end. His eyes. His voice. She felt a lurch of awareness kick her in the stomach and worked hard at trying to ignore it. Such a desperately attractive voice. He knew it, of course; men like him always did. ‘I’m looking forward to my new life,’ she declared resolutely. ‘There are masses of things I plan to do!’

‘Such as?’

She wouldn’t tell him. Her ideas for using part of the orchard as a tea garden, and converting one of the outside sheds into a bric-à-brac-cum-junk shop were still only in the early planning stages. He would probably shoot the whole lot down in flames with some clever remark and she didn’t want that—not whilst she was feeling so fragile, anyway. ‘Oh, all sorts of things,’ she murmured vaguely. ‘Once the cottage is how I want it, I’ll be able to view all of my options.’

‘Does one of those options include finding a job?’ Jake enquired. ‘Or are you wealthy enough not to have to worry about that sort of thing?’

‘I’ll be OK for a while. Look, I did know what I was letting myself in for,’ Olivia added, noting the disbelief in his expression. ‘I made this decision. My reasons are sound and...and it’s going to work!’

‘Who are you trying to convince?’ he drawled. ‘So you’ve left London, in something of a hurry, I would say, and you’re here all alone out in the sticks.’

‘Yes. How...do you know that?’

Dark eyes surveyed the long, richly coloured woollen clothes, the large gilt bangle that hung from her right wrist, the expensive rings and professionally styled hair.

‘You’ve got that city look; a pallor that stems from too many hours spent in an air-conditioned office. The superficial gloss from a superficial life,’ he drawled. ‘Let’s just say us country folk can spot it a mile off.’

‘Well, congratulations on your perception, Mr Savage, but surely it takes one to know one—I can’t say I see a great deal of the country yokel about you!’ Olivia retorted angrily.

‘I hide it well.’ He swung the Range Rover around a bend and then took a turning on the right, which led to a tree-lined lane.

Another terse reply. Olivia scowled. God! How she hated arrogant, egotistical males!

‘What exactly did you do in London?’

They were pulling into the driveway now. Olivia pressed the switch for the electric window and felt a surge of excitement rising as she looked at her new home. ‘I was in publishing,’ she murmured, narrowing her eyes against the rain that spat in at her face.

‘And you left? Why?’

‘I don’t actually see that it’s any of your business?’ Olivia flashed.

He shrugged. ‘For some peculiar reason I find myself interested—isn’t that enough?’

Olivia forced a sweet smile that dripped with sarcasm. It was a famous weapon. At work she had been renowned for it. ‘Surprisingly, Mr Savage, no it is not!’ No effect. Olivia exhaled an impatient breath. ‘I happen to be a private and—’

‘Independent woman,’ he finished drily.

Olivia nodded, satisfied that he was at last getting the picture. ‘That’s right.’

‘I would hazard a guess and say that that last quality is extremely important to you,’ he murmured, watching her resolute expression. ‘Am I right?’

‘Of course! Independence and freedom of choice—the most important things anyone can ever possess!’ she declared with absolute authority.

‘You really think so?’

Olivia showed her surprise. ‘Don’t you?’

He shrugged. ‘Maybe.’

‘Just maybe?’ Olivia queried. ‘Only that?’

The attractive mouth twisted into a grim smile. ‘Freedom of choice—it’s not always the easiest of things to acquire.’

Olivia’s well-shaped brows drew together in query. ‘Isn’t it? Somehow I can’t imagine you ever having difficulty in that department!’ she responded tartly. ‘I would hazard a guess and say in your case that precious commodity money is not in short supply.’

‘You believe it all comes down to personal finance?’

Olivia glanced up at the glittering gaze, conscious once more of the derisive edge in his voice. What had she said? Why did he look so aggravated all of a sudden? ‘That has a lot to do with it,’ she murmured. ‘Well, yes, I do, as a matter of fact!’ she added, refusing to be put off by the disapproving vibes that were suddenly emanating from the powerful frame, determined to be perverse. ‘Money brings choice. There’s no question about that. Look,’ she added, angered by the now blatant look of steely dislike, ‘I was ambitious. I worked myself into the ground for eight years, made it to the top. I enjoyed the work, I was powerful, in my own small sphere, but the only solid thing I’ve got to show for it, the only thing that matters at the end of all that hard slog is the fact that I have a healthy bank balance and some good investments. Money brought me here,’ she added firmly, ‘it brought me this change of lifestyle, this pretty cottage in the country. The ability to choose.’

There was a strange, almost dangerous silence. ‘And what if choice is restrained by other limitations, other boundaries? What if you can’t bring yourself to just walk away? What then?’

Olivia frowned. This conversation was getting deep. She wasn’t sure she could handle it. . .she wasn’t sure she wanted to. ‘I. . .don’t understand,’ she murmured, playing dumb. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘Oh, I think you do,’ he murmured softly. ‘But it’s easier. . .you prefer to see things clearly—black and white; that’s right, isn’t it? No grey areas allowed?’

‘I try to.’ Olivia paused to consider and realised that this man, who was a virtual stranger, was far too perceptive for comfort. ‘It makes decisions a lot easier.’

Dark brows drew together. ‘Life isn’t always that simple, though, is it?’

Olivia hesitated and thought of Paul. ‘You can make it simple,’ she declared forcibly. ‘You can choose to make it simple.’ She saw the dark head shake in disbelief. ‘Obviously we see things differently,’ she declared. ‘I’m not trying to convert you. You were the one who pursued this line of conversation!’

He glanced across at her. ‘You’re nervous—why?’

Olivia lifted her head and stared defiantly at the assured, handsome face. ‘I’m. . .’ She had been about to deny it—pointlessly, of course, because they both knew she was as nervous as hell. But of what? That was the point. And why? ‘I. . .don’t know you.’ She shrugged awkwardly. ‘And yet I find myself drawn into deep conversations that. . .that disturb me. . .and. . .’ She closed her mouth abruptly and looked out of the car window. Honesty was falling out of her mouth at an alarming rate. What on earth had possessed her to be so frank. . .and to a perfect stranger?

‘And?’

‘It doesn’t matter.’ She lifted her head and glanced towards her new home. She took a deep breath and savoured the smell of the chill, damp air. This was it, the moment she had been dreaming about for weeks. ‘Honeysuckle Cottage—it’s a pretty name, isn’t it?’

The harsh mouth curved suddenly. ‘If you say so. Although there hasn’t been a strand of the stuff growing there in all the years I can remember.’

Olivia removed her gaze from the arresting profile and watched the windscreen wipers moving back and forth. ‘I’ll grow some,’ she announced.

‘You feel like giving it a try?’

The mocking tone wasn’t lost on her. Olivia looked sharply at the derisive mouth. ‘Is there something wrong with that?’ she demanded.

‘It deserves to be lived in for fifty-two weeks of the year, not just now and then when the flat in London needs decorating, or the weather’s fine.’ he remarked sharply.

Olivia turned briefly, a frown creasing her forehead. ‘I haven’t got a flat in London, not any more,’ she replied, registering the sharp disapproval of her companion’s face, ‘and even if I had, what business is it of yours how I live my life?’

She wrenched open the door as soon as the vehicle came to a halt and jumped down onto the crunchy gravel, conscious that she was in danger of allowing this disturbing man to mar the arrival she had so longed for. ‘Thanks for the lift,’ she continued stonily, rummaging in her roomy leather bag for the key. ‘If you’ll just open the back for me I’ll get my luggage and you can go.’

‘Here, take this.’ He reached into the back seat of the vehicle and tossed a large grey raincoat through the open doorway. ‘That wonderful but totally impractical dress is going to be ruined.’ He got out and walked around to the boot. ‘Go and open up and I’ll start bringing your luggage inside.’

‘There’s absolutely no need—!’

He halted her protestations with a look. ‘Go on! Do as I say! I was late before; I’m even later now. A couple more minutes of my time won’t make a lot of difference.’

She complied. For one thing it was too wet to stand outside arguing the toss over whether he should or should not carry her bags, and for another they were heavy and there were a lot of them and she would definitely ruin her outfit in the process.

Olivia ran for the front door. The wooden gate creaked a little as she opened it. Her soft black leather boots brushed against clumps of newly sprouted foliage, which she promised herself she would one day recognise, as she negotiated the narrow overgrown path.

The cottage had been empty for a little while now. Out of the corner of her eye she spotted drifts of blue forget-me-nots and pale yellow primroses and her heart lifted and soared because there were so many days ahead and so much to do.

There was a porch overhead, but it was in need of repair and too old and rickety to afford much shelter from the torrential rain. Dragging her gaze away from the front garden, Olivia thrust her treasured key into the lock and stepped across the threshold into her new home.

It was dark inside. The rain clouds had hastened the spring afternoon towards evening. Olivia searched blindly for a light switch and, unable to find one near the door, groped her way across the room, banging into unidentifiable objects on the way. There had been a few pieces of furniture here when she had last visited; old stuff that would have to be thrown out. Olivia added another job to the list she carried around inside her head as she tried to make her way towards the kitchen; order a skip to cart away all this rubbish, so that the decorators could get started as soon as possible.

Her foot scuffed into something soft, an unseen object on the floor that nearly sent her flying into the wall. Olivia grabbed hold of the back of a nearby chair and turned around to take another look. What was it? An old carpet? Olivia let out a sigh of disgust. For goodness’ sake! There had definitely been no carpet or rug here when she had visited before, she was sure of it. What a cheek!

‘People dumping their rubbish here!’ she muttered crossly, giving the object an irritated push with her foot.

It felt strange. Not a carpet or a rug. A prickle of alarm ran across Olivia’s skin. She took a deep breath and bent down to try to get a better look. Oh, goodness! What was it? Slowly, very slowly she reached out a hand, forcing herself to be brave. It would be a lot better if she could see more; this was like that awful game she had played at a party once, where you had to stick your hand into a bag and feel and try to gess whatever was inside.

Her fingers reached out gingerly and came into hesitant contact with something that felt disgusting; a mixture of fur and a wet, sticky slime.

Olivia gave a shriek, jumped up and half stumbled, half ran for the front door.

She cannoned into Jake Savage, overloaded with cases at the entrance, and clutched onto the lapels of his jacket.

‘Hey! What on earth’s the matter?’

Olivia closed her eyes and allowed herself the brief pleasure of pressing her face against the soft suede jacket. ‘There’s something. . .something horrible in there,’ she declared unsteadily, aware of her heart racing fit to burst, unsure whether it was entirely due to her sudden fright or the fact that she was in such close proximity to Jake Savage.

‘What sort of thing?’

‘I. . . I don’t know. It’s so dark and I can’t find the damn light switch, but—’

‘It’s frightened the hell out of you,’ he finished for her. His voice was calm. ‘Funny how appearances can be so deceptive, isn’t it?’ he murmured softly. She could feel the masculine hardness of his body, the warmth of his breath on her face. ‘Now what on earth made me imagine that the sophisticated Miss Hamilton could handle any situation, no matter how daunting? You’re shaking like a leaf!’

‘I. . . I don’t like the dark very much,’ Olivia admitted unsteadily. ‘But it’s not just that; there really is something horrible. I don’t know what it is, but it felt absolutely disgusting!’

‘OK, calm down.’ The deep voice was soothing and immensely reassuring. ‘I’m here.’ Olivia heard the suitcases fall to the floor and her heart increased its hammering tenfold as she felt the pressure of strong masculine arms around her shoulders. ‘There’s no need to panic.’ Firm fingers moved sensuously in a circular motion. ‘I can still feel your whole body trembling, do you know that?’ His voice trailed to a halt and Olivia sensed the change in him, so that when he spoke again it was no surprise to hear a softer, more intimate note to his voice. ‘Such a fiery character on the outside. . .’ he lifted a hand and tilted Olivia’s chin so that he could look down into her face ‘. . .but not quite so hard on the inside, eh?’

Their souls met and the feeling of knowing assailed Olivia once again. She didn’t understand what was happening, why she should feel this way about a man she had only just met.

She wanted him. Shock coursed through her body at the revelation and Olivia pulled away jerkily. ‘Do you think you could. . .take a look?’

Jake released her without a word, she heard a reassuring flick and instantly the room was bathed in the glare of a naked bulb. They were in a large, pleasantly shaped room. Low beams criss-crossed the ceiling; a big inglenook fireplace dominated one whole wall. Olivia swallowed and forced herself to get a grip, self-consciously taking several large steps away from Jake Savage’s broad frame. ‘It was over there,’ she murmured, hardly daring to meet the probing gaze, ‘behind that old sofa.’

She stayed by the door, watching as he crossed to the place she had indicated. There was a sharp intake of breath and then a sigh. ‘It’s OK, nothing to be frightened of.’ He pushed the sofa out of the way and Olivia tentatively moved forward. ‘Just a battered, bruised and half-starved mutt.’ Jake crouched down and placed seemingly knowledgeable hands onto the matted, blood-smeared fur. ‘Which, surprisingly, is still alive!’ There was a note of triumph in the deep tone. He turned suddenly and she saw the expression of urgency that accompanied it. ‘Hurry! Run out to my car and grab the black case that’s on the back seat.’

‘Right!’ Olivia wheeled around, not pausing to question or consider his order. She gripped his raincoat around her shoulders, dashed out into the pouring rain and returned in less than half a minute with the large black case as requested.

‘You’re a doctor?’ She couldn’t keep the note of surprise from her voice as she watched Jake flick open the case and pull out a stethoscope.

‘Vet.’ He nodded towards the unmoving, furry mass. ‘Pretty fortunate dog, huh?’

Olivia frowned, her eyes switching to the miserable-looking animal on the floor. ‘It doesn’t look very fortunate. You honestly think you can save it?’

He didn’t answer immediately. There was silence and immense concentration as he listened to the dog’s heartbeat. Finally he lifted his head. ‘Looks hopeful. There’s a reasonable beat, considering the state he’s in. He’s weak from lack of food, of course, and there are a couple of bad gashes.’ Jake carefully lifted a back leg and examined a septic-looking wound. ‘This one is pretty nasty. Stopped him from finding anything to eat in the last few days, I should think.’

‘But he looks so. . .so desperate,’ Olivia replied, gritting her teeth as a needle was swiftly filled and injected into the mangy body. ‘How do you think he came to be here?’

Jake lifted his broad shoulders in a shrug. ‘Who knows? Maybe he slipped in when your things were being delivered earlier.’ He glanced towards a couple of packing cases that were in the corner of the room. ‘I need some water, hot water. Can you see to it?’

Olivia straightened up, aware of the professional command in his voice. ‘Yes.’

‘Good.’ He began to roll up his shirt-sleeves and Olivia, despite her determined resolution to be as efficient as possible, found her gaze drawn to the powerful forearms, the strength of his hands as they lowered to examine the dog. ‘Are you going to get that hot water now,’ he enquired sharply as the seconds passed, ‘or do I have to get it myself?’

She turned quickly, cursing her wandering concentration, cursing the fact that this man could make her feel wonderful one moment and totally inadequate the next, with no more than a look and a few crisply spoken words.

By the time she came back into the living-room with a bowl full of warm water, another with hot water in it, a towel and some soap, determined to be Miss Efficiency, Jake had carried the dog over to the sofa. She watched as he clipped away sodden black fur from around several different wounds.

‘I don’t suppose there’s any chance of you lighting a fire, is there?’ Dark eyes flicked across to the large, blackened inglenook fireplace. ‘Only it’s pretty cold in here and this dog needs all the warmth he can get.’

Olivia shivered; her own woollen dress felt decidedly damp from the rain and she was having to grit her teeth to stop them chattering together as it was. ‘I’m not very organised,’ she murmured, frowning at the fireplace. ‘There isn’t any wood or anything yet. I was going to get that kind of thing sorted out tomorrow.’ She paused, glad that she didn’t have to admit that she had never lit an open fire in her life before. ‘But I do have a couple of fan heaters. I bought them specially for the move. They should be in a case upstairs. I’ll go get them.’

The room felt a lot warmer after half an hour or so, not cosy exactly but better than when they had first entered. Olivia had found a couple of bulbs for the wall lights and retrieved a large rectangular rug from one of the packing cases, which she had spread over the bare boards. The dog had been encouraged to eat a special nourishing concoction that had been mixed from a selection of packets carried in the Range Rover.

‘Right. That’s just about all I can do for now.’ Jake Savage flexed his broad shoulders and released a long-drawn-out breath. ‘Don’t worry, he looks a lot worse than he is; he’s going to be fine,’ he added, seeing Olivia’s anxious gaze. ‘He just needs rest and a lot of feeding up now, and daily attention to his wounds, of course. They should heal well, though; he’s a young dog and there’s no reason why he shouldn’t make a swift recovery.’

Olivia smiled her relief. ‘That’s good.’ She glanced down at the sleeping animal. ‘Would you. . .like a cup of tea before you go?’ Olivia made her voice sound as casual as possible, and she glanced up into Jake Savage’s face. He looked tired; it crossed her mind that maybe he hadn’t been sleeping well lately. ‘I realise you’ve stayed far longer- than you wanted to, but the kettle’s just boiled, so. . .’

There was a slight pause and then the lips curled into a brief, unexpected smile. ‘That would be good—thank you. I take mine white, no sugar.’

Olivia released a cautious breath and found that relief was flooding through her. Jake Savage had been tending to the dog for almost an hour and in that time she had become increasingly anxious that once his task was at an end he would pick up his bag and the animal and walk out of her life without another word.

Why? The question raced into her mind. Why did it matter that she might not see him again?

He stood up, rubbing the back of his neck in a gesture that communicated a deeply ingrained tiredness, unthinkingly stretching to his full height of six feet plus, and immediately cracking his head against one of the low blackened beams.

‘Oh, my goodness! Are you OK?’ Olivia winced at the sound of his skull meeting oak and rushed towards him, frowning in sympathy, instinctively reaching up and touching the dark, glossy head. ‘This ceiling is dreadfully low, isn’t it? You’ll have to be careful in future.’

She stilled, her whole being transfixed by the feel of his thick black hair beneath her fingers, by the close proximity of Jake Savage’s powerful body, by her words. She was overwhelmingly conscious of what she had just said—the future? Did she think they had one? Did she imagine she would see this man again after today? Did she want to?

She tried to snatch her hand away, but Jake Savage was far too swift for her. ‘It’s just here,’ he murmured. His large hand covered hers, moving her fingers across his head. Dark, dangerous eyes looked down into her face. ‘Can you feel that?’

Olivia’s fingers came into contact with a raised bump and she nodded. ‘Y. . .yes.’ Physical contact with this man meant she was whispering again, as if the effect of touching or being touched by him somehow diminished the power of her vocal cords. ‘It must hurt,’ she murmured, wishing she had the strength to pull her fingers free, knowing deep down that she didn’t want to.

His gaze was intense, focusing steadily on her increasingly mobile expression.

Olivia swallowed. A stillness settled over the interior of the room. He didn’t speak. He didn’t have to. There was no confusing this sensation of inevitability. Olivia ran her tongue nervously over her parched lips and waited, catching her breath a little as the dark head lowered very slowly, very deliberately.

This was what she had been waiting for all of her life. She hadn’t been wrong before.

This man called Jake Savage would mean something to her, meeting him, wanting him, loving him.