Feeling more and more panicked, Tori decided she could sort her gear later. She gathered Rusty and headed out the drive.

She turned out the stone entrance-and almost hit Jake coming in.

She stopped. It was only courteous. She had to say goodbye.

She’d made love to this man. What had she been thinking?

She knew exactly what she’d been thinking.

He climbed out of the car and she was caught again by how good he looked. Yes, his pants were creased and when she looked closely there were a couple of grass stains on his shirt. He needed a shave. His hair needed a brush.

He looked incredibly hot.

He climbed out and smiled at her and hot didn’t begin to describe it. He made her heart turn over.

‘Where are you going?’ he asked, peering in her passenger-side window and Rusty practically turned himself inside out in order to reach him. Tori pressed the window button, the window slid down and Rusty was in Jake’s arms in a flash. Jake submitted to being licked, and even laughed as the little dog squirmed his ecstasy in finding his friend.

His friend. Her friend. This man was seriously, seriously sexy.

‘I’m going to see my new home,’ she said, frantically attempting to firm something inside her that felt very much in need of firming.

‘Can I come with you?’

Could he come? Um, no. Um, not wise.

But Rusty was licking his nose again, he was laughing and what was her head doing, saying no? Of course he could come. She could no sooner deny this man than fly.

‘Of course,’ she said, and he opened the door and climbed in. Uh-oh. Where was her escape plan now?

‘You don’t have anything else to do?’ she asked, half hopeful.

‘I need to be back at the hospital at five to collect Rob and Glenda. That’s four hours.’

‘You don’t need to sleep?’

‘I’ve slept.’

‘You’ve slept?’

‘For at least an hour. Any more is for wusses,’

‘Right,’ she said, thoroughly disconcerted, and restarted the engine and headed down the valley to her new home. With her man beside her.

Her man who wasn’t her man. A Manhattan doctor.

Jake.


The relocatables were set up as a village. From a distance they looked like rows of shoeboxes lined up side by side.

Even from the road Tori could see there was no use checking out the three she’d been offered and choosing between them. They’d be exactly the same.

‘What is this place?’ Jake demanded, staring around in dismay.

‘Home,’ Tori said resolutely, heading for Shoebox 86. The key was in the door. She pushed it open and bit back a gasp of dismay.

Home?

Not.

She’d need to make it home fast, she thought, or the resolution she’d decided on would fail her. Somehow what had happened last night had seemed the catalyst for moving on, but now… Staying near Jake any longer seemed dangerous. This was the sensible option.

But this was beige. And Jake was still here.

So… She’d use him again, she thought. She’d use his energy.

‘We need to shop,’ she said briskly, but Jake wasn’t listening.

‘You can’t stay here. It’s like a budget motel.’

‘It’s better than a budget motel,’ she snapped. ‘It’s new and it’s comfortable and it’s mine.’

‘So what will you do here?’

‘I’ve been offered a job in a pet clinic on the outskirts of the city.’

‘Was that what you were doing on the ridge?’

‘My father and I ran a horse clinic,’ she said, ‘with a small-animal practice on the side. There were scores of horse studs on the mountain. There’s not a lot of horses up there now, though, and there won’t be for years, so it’s pets only.’ A furrow appeared between her eyes and she shrugged. ‘No matter. Last night showed me I can move on and I will.’

She was looking around, taking careful assessment. ‘But you’re right, I can’t live here like it is now,’ she said. ‘I need to go shopping.’ She glanced at her watch, hesitating. ‘I should have come alone, but we have time before you’ve promised to pick up Glenda. If I wait until after then I won’t have stuff today, and I need this place to be cheerful tonight.’

‘You’re not staying here tonight?’

‘I am,’ she said, flatly and definitely, and then she smiled, taking the sting from her words. ‘Today’s the first day of the rest of my life. Do you want to come shopping?’

Did he?

‘There’s-’

‘Time,’ she said, refusing to be deflected by his dismay. ‘There’s a great Asian trading centre a couple of miles from here. I reckon I could get all I need there and more.’

He stared at her, stunned. The difference between the Tori of now and the Tori of yesterday was, quite simply, extraordinary. What had happened between them last night had shaken his world, but for Tori it seemed to have marked a turnaround, transforming her from grief-stricken victim to woman about to embark on her new life.

‘We should have brought the two cars,’ she said, but cheerfully, as if she wasn’t very sorry. ‘You’re welcome to stay here and wait. Or are you happy to watch me shop?’

She smiled and there was determination behind the smile. She might be transformed, he thought, but the grief was still with her. She was moving forwards, with shadows.

And the least he could do was come along for the ride.

‘Shopping’s my favourite thing,’ he lied.

‘Really?’

‘No, but it’s like hard work. I can watch it being done for hours.’

She chuckled, a lovely rich chuckle that had the power to transform this stark little apartment into something else. Tori’s home.

Bleak as a great man’s house without a fireplace in it…

The words came from…where? He hardly recalled the analogy, so why should they spring to mind now, dredged from literature or a play he’d once seen?

But he knew why they’d come. A house without Tori in it seemed the same. Unthinkable. She had the power to light from within, and that’s just what she was doing as she grabbed her bag and jingled her car keys.

‘Rusty’s due for a nap. I bought him a doggy chew so he’ll be happy enough staying here. You want to drive or will I?’

‘I will,’ he said faintly. ‘I kind of like the challenge of driving on the left-and you should save your energy for shopping.’

CHAPTER SEVEN

SO SHOP she did, while he stood back and watched in something akin to awe. She shopped with professional purpose.

Quilts, cushions, rugs, curtains, blankets, jugs, vases, wall hangings… There was little hesitation; she simply saw an item, beamed, picked it up, stuck it in her trolley, and when her trolley was full she used his arms instead.

‘You’re not leaving much time-or room-for milk and bread,’ he managed, muffled under rugs, and she balanced another rug on top and steered him towards the door.

‘I can get milk and bread after we’ve taken Rob and Glenda home.’

‘You’re definitely leaving the lodge tonight?’ he asked, and she started unloading onto the register and tried to locate her purse among pillows.

‘Of course,’ she said absently. ‘That’s what this is about. I need to get my own place but I don’t want to live with beige. It’s only one step better than grey, and I’m not going there ever again.’

‘It’d be good if you stayed at the lodge a bit longer,’ he said diffidently, but she’d handed over her money, her hands were free and she could respond now with her full attention. She turned and faced him square on, frivolity gone.

‘Good for whom?’

‘You need to rest.’

‘I wouldn’t rest if I went back to the lodge. We both know that. Not with you around.’

The cashier, a bored teenager with lavender spiked hair, looked suddenly less bored.

‘Well, maybe lack of rest has its advantages,’ he ventured, fighting an adolescent urge to blush-but Tori shook her head.

‘Any more than one night and I might get the wrong idea. No strings, Jake. You don’t seriously want them, do you?’

‘I…’ How had they got here, so fast. ‘No.’ Was there any other possible response?

‘There you go, then.’ She was piling stuff back into his arms, tucking a pillow under his chin. ‘Press down or we’ll have pillows all over the car park. Can you manage?’

‘Yes, of course.

‘Then we’re finished,’ she said. ‘Let’s go.’


Conversation finished. She steered the talk onto inanities while they drove back to her new home and unloaded.

He’d never seen colour used to such effect. Within fifteen minutes the drab little relocatable had become home. Outside it was still a shoebox but inside it was the sort of shoebox a man might walk into and smile, because it looked exactly what his vision of Tori’s home should be.

Even Rusty approved. He’d been staring dolefully at the door when they arrived, lying on the beige carpet. Now he was snuggled between two crimson and sky-blue cushions, with a purple throw-rug wrapped snugly around his injured lower half. He looked approving, Jake thought.

He approved as well.

‘It’ll take me a while to organise the curtains,’ Tori said, glowering at the beige Venetian blinds. ‘These might give us privacy but if anyone thinks I’m looking at them for more than a night they have another think coming. Now…’ She glanced at her watch. ‘Half an hour. I need flowers.’

‘Flowers?’

‘There’s a flower farm half a mile from here. You want to come?’

Watch Tori buy flowers or stay here and wait? Of course he wanted to come.

Rusty decided to come this time, so he drove them both to the flower farm and she bought half a dozen daffodils and then two dozen tulips and then about a hundred gerberas in about three minutes, and then she decreed she was finished.

The word sounded too stark. Finished.

She had such courage, he thought, as they loaded the car and set off again. She was amazing. And more and more the thought of her staying in that sterile little relocatable-despite her additions-was almost unbearable.