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His mind whirling, Rory looked at Dessie’s departing figure as she raced back down the track. He could still feel the imprint of her soft lips on his mouth, her slim body against his, the light floral scent she wore still lingering on his clothes. She was so lovely, so seductive, with the black hair, those dark green eyes, and the dimple beside her mouth. But not only that, her quick mind, her sense of fun, and the way she had grown into an alluring mature woman during the ten years she had been away were truly enchanting.
He sat down on the rock again staring at the mountains, as if they could tell him what to do. It was a hell of a situation—falling for Dessie when he was involved with her sister. Not that they were in a proper relationship, physical or otherwise, but he had sensed it was about to happen, and he had welcomed it. He and Jules would be a good team, even if she was hard to figure out at times. Quick to anger and very judgemental, Jules could be unfair and downright nasty when she was in a bad mood. But who was perfect? He had been alone long enough, thanks to his mother’s meddling in his love affairs. Now that she was gone, he could make up his own mind. And he had. Until Dessie arrived. Rory sighed and got up, walking slowly down the path, feeling as if he had been hit by a natural disaster. A hurricane called Dessie.
***
Shit, shit, shit, Dessie thought as she raced down the path. This must not happen. I must not fall for Rory and make him break up with Jules. I wanted to make peace with her, not flirt with her boyfriend. I can never be alone with Rory again. But he’s so lovely, so solid and dependable. And sexy...She stopped dead, breathing hard. Sexy? Rory? She nodded. Yes, he was. That split second when he had kissed her had been amazing. His lips, his hot breath, his strong body and his... Stop it! she told herself. This must never, ever happen again.
Dessie shook herself and started walking again. She had to stay cool and professional, do her job and stay away from Rory. He had given her a great tip and she decided to call Marcus straight away. This could turn things around, and the auction could go ahead once they found the records or the marriage certificate. A brilliant piece of news, actually. She took the phone from her pocket and dialled his number.
“Gretna Green,” she said when he answered. “They were married there. Get back to that lawyer and tell him.”
“Are you sure?”
“Certain. Nearly a hundred percent. I’m sure there are records.”
“If that turns out to be true, I owe you again.” Marcus laughed. “It’ll be a weekend at The Ritz by the time I add up all your brownie points.”
“Put it on my slate,” Dessie replied and hung up. She resumed walking, glancing behind her to see if Rory was catching up with her. But the path was deserted, the cold wind whirling the dead leaves around and a lone crow flying overhead, its cry echoing eerily in the still landscape. The trees loomed over her, and the spits of rain felt like needles. Time to go inside and pretend it hadn’t happened. If that was possible. She shivered and put her finger to her lips, knowing it would take a long time to forget that kiss.
***
The events of the next few days helped turn Dessie’s mind away from romance. Marcus phoned his father in London about the Gretna Green lead. The lawyer got on the case, and they’d know if there was anything in the Scottish records in a few days. Martin Smythe was not thrilled with the news that Richard Hourigan had got away with some very valuable items from the house. Marcus was to contact him at once and get the items back or they would be in trouble with the law. Then, one evening, Audrey announced that Finola McGee was coming back early for Christmas with her twin daughters and that they’d be staying in the cottage on Jules’ estate.
“Not sure where she’s going to put everyone,” Audrey muttered as they tidied away after dinner. “She’s coming with two babies, a dog, and a nanny. More like a travelling circus.”
Dessie put the butter in the fridge. “Didn’t you say they had extended the cottage and added a bedroom and a bathroom?”
“That makes it two bedrooms in all. But I suppose the nanny will have to sleep with the babies, poor thing. How on earth will Colin fit into all that when he arrives from his latest movie set? He’s filming on location in Iceland. Some kind of sci-fi action thing. He’ll be exhausted and will want a little peace and quiet.”
“Maybe the babies are well behaved?” Marcus suggested from the kitchen table, where he was enjoying a glass of wine from the bottle they had shared.
Audrey laughed. “Well behaved? Nah, those girls are wild. If you consider what their parents are like, you’ll get the picture. Finola was home during the summer, and they had just started to walk. It was holy murder. Stay tuned for a lot of shenanigans.”
“Not that I’ll be seeing much of them,” Dessie remarked. “If they’re staying with Jules, I mean. She and I aren’t exactly on friendly terms.”
Audrey stared at her. “Really? Why is that?”
Dessie shrugged and picked up a saucepan. “Long story. Where do you want me to put this? Does it go in the dishwasher?”
Audrey nodded, still looking at Dessie with interest. “Yeah, shove it in. Thank God for dishwashers, eh?”
Marcus drained his glass and brought it to the sink. “I’ll be off. I have a date, so don’t wait up.”
Audrey made a funny face. “A date? Oooh, exciting! Would you care to share?”
“No, I wouldn’t,” Marcus drawled. “Not with a hot journalist anyway. I’d find myself spread all over the front page in the morning.”
“The front page?” Audrey chortled. “Aren’t we full of ourselves? No, you wouldn’t make more than a couple of paragraphs on page four in the social events section. I’ll get Mary on the case at once. She does all that stuff at the paper.”
“Very funny,” Marcus snorted. “I’m off. Have a nice evening, ladies.”
Audrey laughed and looked at Dessie when Marcus had left. “I wonder who he’s dating?”
Dessie turned on the dishwasher. “He isn’t dating anyone. I think he met some woman out hunting, and they were going to draw up a list of meets he could go to over the next few weeks, so he can book the same horse. Don’t worry.”
“Who’s worried?” Audrey said and picked up the wine bottle.
“He said you were hot, didn’t you hear him?”
Audrey shrugged. “Did he? I didn’t notice. There is nearly half of this bottle left. You want to help me finish it?”
“Why not?” Dessie took two clean wine glasses from the china cabinet and sat down at the table. “Let’s drink it in here, where it’s warm and cosy. If we go into the living room, we’ll have to light a fire. It’s cold out tonight.”
Audrey joined her at the table. “It’s November. Not my favourite month.” She poured wine into both glasses, pushed one across the table, and then lifted her own. “Cheers.”
Dessie clinked glasses with Audrey. “Cheers, Audrey.”
They sipped wine and chatted about the weather until Audrey fixed her gaze on Dessie. “So, what’s this all about? This old scandal? I have heard rumours but not much that I can get a handle on.”
Dessie widened her eyes. “Old scandal? What do you mean?”