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‘Perfect,’ he repeated mockingly.
She could have no idea how perfect. In fact, it was exactly where he wanted to be. Staying in the area would mean he wouldn’t have to keep driving out there, could blend into the scenery more easily, and so not make himself quite so conspicuous to the locals. Certain locals in particular!
March looked a little less certain now. ‘The property I have in mind is on a farm in the area, not a cottage but a studio-conversion over a garage.’
‘Sounds good.’ He nodded. ‘When can I see it? I would really like to check out of the hotel and get moved in as quickly as possible,’ he added briskly at her surprised look.
She blinked at his decisiveness. ‘I’m not completely sure that the owners would be interested in a winter let, so I would have to call them first and check—’
‘Go ahead,’ he invited smoothly.
March looked totally nonplussed now. Obviously she wasn’t used to things moving quite this quickly. Well, she would have to get used to it, because Will didn’t have any time to waste, wanted to get the job done, and then get the hell out of Dodge City. Before anyone started baying for his blood!
‘Time is money, March,’ he prompted dryly.
She blinked, her expression suddenly becoming wistful. ‘My father used to say that,’ she explained huskily at his questioning look.
‘Used to?’ Will repeated softly.
March sat up straighter in her chair, that flush returning to her cheeks, as if she had said too much. ‘He died,’ she bit out abruptly, at the same time picking up the telephone. ‘I’ll call the farm now,’ she told him curtly.
Will watched March rather than listened to her conversation. She really was beautiful. Perhaps his time in Yorkshire wasn’t going to be quite as lonely as he had initially thought. If he could get past the prejudice she felt towards him because he had ‘usurped her parking spot’, that was!
‘Will one-thirty suit you for viewing, Mr Davenport?’ March looked enquiringly across the desk at him, her hand over the mouthpiece as she spoke. ‘Even farmers stop for lunch,’ she informed him dryly as he raised blond brows.
‘Fine,’ he snapped, knowing she was deliberately mocking him.
Was it so obvious that he had been born and lived in cities all his life? Probably. But he liked what he had seen of Yorkshire so far, and this part of the county was particularly beautiful.
Although he still had that niggling feeling that there was something not quite right about the property March was sending him to see. Perhaps the farmer had a particularly fierce bull he liked to set on strangers? Or perhaps a pack of hounds? Or perhaps she just found the idea amusing of placing Will, a man obviously used to the amenities of the city, on a farm?
It might be at that; as far as he was aware, he had never set foot on a farm in his life. But there was a first time for everything, and from the sound of it, the location was perfect…
‘That’s settled then, Mr Davenport,’ March told him briskly as she ended the call, writing an address down on a piece of paper before handing it to him. ‘I’m sure that either Mr Carter or Miss Jones would be only too pleased to accompany you—’
‘No, thanks,’ he cut in briskly. ‘I would rather find my own way around.’
She nodded. ‘But please feel free to call back and speak to either Mr Carter or Miss Jones if you find this particular rental unsuitable for your needs.’
Giving Will the clear impression that she already knew it wasn’t going to be!
Which only incited him into wanting to take that satisfied little smile off her beautiful face! ‘March, would you have dinner with me this evening?’
He almost laughed at the sudden stunned look on her face. Almost. Because even as he made the invitation he knew that he really did want her to have dinner with him…!
She was prickly and outspoken, absolutely nothing like a receptionist greeting the general public should be, but at the same time he liked her outspokenness, that sparkle in her eyes, and her beauty was indisputable.
She seemed to gather her scattered wits together with effort, straightening in her chair even as she began to shake her head. ‘I don’t think so, thank you, Mr Davenport,’ she refused tautly, those dark lashed grey-green eyes sparkling with indignation now.
He quirked blond brows. ‘No taking pity on a stranger in the area?’
Her mouth twisted derisively. ‘Being a stranger here, you may not have heard, Mr Davenport, but we had a stalker in the area until he was caught quite recently.’
As it happened, Will had heard—although he wasn’t quite sure he liked her implication!
‘As I recall, the man was a local,’ he reminded dryly.
‘Yes, he was,’ she confirmed abruptly, her cheeks pale now. ‘But that’s all the more reason to be doubly wary of strangers.’
He gave an acknowledging inclination of his head. ‘Maybe I’ll come back tomorrow and ask again—I won’t be a stranger then!’
March gave the ghost of a smile. ‘You can try,’ she challenged.
But he would be wasting his time, her words clearly implied. Pity. He would have liked to get to know her better.
‘Thanks, anyway, March.’ He stood up to leave. ‘I’m expected at one-thirty, you said?’
‘Lunchtime,’ she confirmed dryly.
Good, that would give him time to complete the other business he had in town. Although, so far, that was proving more difficult than he had imagined.
He turned back to March. ‘I don’t suppose—no,’ he answered his own question, shaking his head ruefully. ‘Sorry.’ He grimaced at her enquiring look. ‘I’m making enquiries about a friend of mine who was staying at the hotel until a few days ago, but as he was another stranger, I don’t suppose you would know anything about him, either!’
March eyed him mockingly. ‘I don’t suppose I would.’
Will grinned. ‘Never at a loss for words, are you?’ he said admiringly.
‘Only when invited out to dinner by a complete stranger,’ she mocked her own momentary lack of composure a few minutes ago when he’d made the invitation.
He chuckled softly. ‘It isn’t too late to change your mind about that…?’
‘I’ll pass, thanks,’ she returned smilingly, her attention distracted behind him at that moment as the bell rang over the door to announce a new arrival.
‘Thanks for this, March.’ Will held up the piece of paper with the address on it. ‘You can have my parking space now, if you want it,’ he added goadingly.
March gave him a look from beneath deliberately frowning brows. ‘I believe that was my parking space, Mr Davenport—and I won’t bother now, if you don’t mind.’ She laughed in spite of herself.
Will nodded politely to the man and woman who had just entered, deciding from their business suits, and general air of ownership, that they were probably the Mr Carter and Miss Jones that March kept referring to.
He glanced back inside before driving away, raising a hand in parting to March as he saw she was looking out of the window at him, too. Still with that self-satisfied smile curving her lips, the little minx.
Pity she had turned down his dinner invitation. Although, perhaps with the controversial circumstances of his being in the area, it was probably better not to involve her.
From what he had already been told, he was going to have enough trouble with certain members of the community, without becoming personally involved with another one of them.
As Max appeared to have done…
CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_f40fb204-9305-55a5-a64a-c58228a61516)
MARCH wasn’t in the least surprised to see the powerful red sports car still parked in the yard when she arrived at the farm that afternoon shortly before two. In fact, she had counted on it!
Will Davenport, with his good looks and air of sophistication—his lack of apology for taking her parking spot!—had totally rubbed her up the wrong way this morning. Well, the boot was on the other foot now—as he was shortly going to realize.
Wednesday was half-day at the agency, a fact she had been very aware of when she’d made the appointment for Will Davenport to view this rented accommodation at one-thirty.
‘You really didn’t have to bother to come all the way out here, you know,’ Will Davenport’s unmistakable voice drawled from behind March as she turned to get her bag from the back of the car. ‘I did tell you I would be able to manage for myself,’ he added with confident dismissal.
March slowly straightened before turning to give him a mocking smile. ‘And have you?’ she taunted.
‘Of course.’ Will stepped aside so that the person standing behind him was now visible. ‘Apart from signing on the dotted line, I believe May and I have settled everything.’ He grinned his satisfaction.
March turned to the young woman who now stood beside Will. ‘I don’t think we have a dotted line for Will to sign on, do we, May?’ she prompted lightly.
Her sister smiled. ‘Not that I’m aware of, no,’ she drawled, at the same time now giving March a quizzical look.
May, as the eldest of the three sisters, had always been the more level-headed one too; it didn’t need two guesses to know that she was not going to be pleased with March for the little trick she had played on Will Davenport today.
Never mind; it had been worth it—just to see the puzzled expression as his gaze moved frowningly between the two sisters!
‘“We”?’ he finally prompted slowly, his expression wary now.
March gave a satisfied grin. ‘I didn’t come here to check up on you, Mr Davenport—I happen to live here!’ she took great delight in telling him.
To say he looked stunned by this disclosure had to be an understatement; he looked as if someone had just punched him between the eyes!
Yes, he looked stunned—and something else, March realized as his expression instantly became guarded. She had thought, from the little she had seen of him, that once Will got over the surprise at learning that it was her family farm she had sent him to, he would laugh about the situation. But obviously she had misjudged his sense of humour, because he certainly didn’t look as if he felt much like laughing.
‘It was only a joke, Mr Davenport,’ she told him ruefully. ‘Not a very clever one at that,’ she allowed dryly.
‘After all, we do have the studio for rent, and you did say you were looking for somewhere in the area…’ She trailed off as she could tell that, far from seeing the funny side of the situation, he was now frowning darkly.
‘The two of you are sisters,’ he realized woodenly.
‘I don’t think you get any Brownie points for guessing that!’ March grinned as she moved to stand next to May, the likeness between the two women more than obvious, both tall and dark-haired, their features similar, only the eyes a different colour, May’s a clear emerald-green.
Will Davenport didn’t return her smile. In fact, he seemed momentarily at a loss for words.
‘Why don’t you come into the farmhouse and have a nice cup of tea, Mr Davenport?’ May briskly took charge of the situation, shooting March another reproving look as she took hold of Will’s arm to urge him towards the house.
March followed slowly behind them. Some people just didn’t have a sense of humour, she decided scornfully. It had only been a joke, for goodness’ sake. And he had seemed to like the studio well enough before he’d realized she lived here too.
Maybe that was his problem, she realized a little disgruntledly. Perhaps he thought she might try to follow up on his earlier dinner invitation? That she had done this for some hidden reason of her own?
Well, he needn’t worry, she had no intention of bothering him even if he did move into the studio for a couple of weeks; she was out at work all day, and busy with chores about the farm the rest of the time. Besides, she had the distinct feeling that Will Davenport was way out of her league…
‘Put the kettle on, March,’ her sister instructed firmly once they were in the warmth of the kitchen, Will Davenport still not looking any happier as he sat at the kitchen table. ‘You obviously had no idea that this was March’s home, too?’ May prompted as she sat down opposite him.
‘None at all.’ He seemed to rouse himself out of his stupor for a few seconds as he looked up at March. ‘You would be March Calendar?’
She grinned. ‘I certainly would.’
May frowned across at March before turning her attention back to their visitor. ‘My sister sometimes has a warped sense of humour—’
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake!’ March cut in impatiently.
‘It was only a little joke. What possible difference can it make that I live here too?’ she added irritably.
May sighed. ‘Well, if I were in Will’s shoes—’
‘Which you obviously aren’t,’ March taunted; Will Davenport’s shoes, indeed all his clothes, looked much more expensive than anything they could afford!
Her sister glared at her. ‘March, when are you going to learn that you just can’t do things like this? You’re twenty-six years old, for goodness’ sake, not six!’
Her cheeks became flushed at her sister’s rebuke. ‘It was a joke,’ she repeated incredulously.
‘It may have been—’
‘It really is all right, May,’ Will Davenport cut in lightly. ‘March was just settling a score from this morning. Right?’ He looked at her with narrowed blue eyes.
March shrugged. ‘Well, I thought it was funny,’ she muttered disgustedly.
And, no matter what May might say, it was funny. But March also knew the reason for May’s concern; the money they would receive from letting the studio for two weeks would come in very handy. Any extra money always came in handy on a small farm like this one!
Will Davenport seemed to visibly relax. ‘It was. It is.’ He nodded ruefully. ‘You see, May, I rather inconvenienced March this morning by “usurping” her parking space,’ he explained wryly, at the same time shooting March a derisive look. ‘This was obviously pay-back time.’ His gaze was mocking on March now. ‘Well, I’m afraid the joke is on you, March—because I have every intention of renting the studio for a couple of weeks. If that’s okay with you?’ He turned back to May.
‘Hey, I live here too,’ March defended ruefully.
‘I think we’re now all well aware of that fact!’ May bit out impatiently.
Will Davenport began to smile, the smile turning into a chuckle. ‘I think I’m going to enjoy my stay here, after all,’ he murmured appreciatively.
‘How could you have doubted it?’ March came back mockingly, more than a little relieved that he had decided to stay after all; May really would never have forgiven her if he had decided not to simply because of the joke she had played on him.
‘Only too easily, I would have thought,’ May snapped, but she was smiling too now.
‘I was thinking of moving in later this afternoon, if that’s okay?’ their new paying guest prompted lightly.
‘He hates staying in hotels,’ March put in derisively.
‘Of course it’s okay for you to move in today,’ May confirmed. ‘The studio should be thoroughly warm by this evening,’ she added apologetically.
Something it obviously wasn’t yet. Despite March’s prompt call earlier so that May could go over and switch on the heating for their visitor. The studio hadn’t been used since last summer, and so there hadn’t been any heating on over there, either.
‘Although you might prefer to come over and have dinner with us just for this evening?’ May continued frowningly.
Now that was just going too far in March’s opinion. The man was supposed to be renting the studio, completely independent of them and the farm, not moving in with them!
Will Davenport sat back in his chair to shoot her a knowing smile—as if he were only too well aware of what she was thinking. Which he probably was; she never had been any good at hiding her feelings! And with this man, someone who wouldn’t be around long enough to matter, she didn’t see why she should bother…
