Holiday with a Stranger (5 page)

‘You look a lot alike.’

‘I know.’

He smiled. ‘And she
has
had her IQ tested?’

Josie snorted gently. There was a world of pain in that short exhalation of breath. ‘Yes.’

‘That must be a tough gig to compete with.’

‘I wish I could say I got the beauty and she got the brains, but it wouldn’t be true.’ It was obviously a line she wheeled out on a regular basis, and her attempt at flippancy was totally unconvincing.

‘You think you’re second best to your sister?’

She frowned. ‘We can’t all be exceptional.’

‘You think you’re not exceptional?’

She laughed—a low, tense chuckle. ‘I do okay.’

‘Jeez, no wonder you’re so strung out.’

Her gaze snapped to his. ‘You think I’m strung out because I have a successful sister?’ She leant forward in her chair, a deep scowl marring her beautiful face. ‘I’m stressed because my business is in jeopardy and I’ve been ordered to go on bloody
holiday
.’

The sudden flash of anger surprised him, but it left her face as quickly as it had come. There was that look again: the swiftly shifting gaze, the tensing of her jawline, the flicker of a frown. As if she was internally reprimanding herself for something. She’d done it the last time her tone had slipped into aggressiveness.

‘Who
ordered
you?’

‘Your sister.’

‘Why would she do that? And why the hell would you listen to her?’

There was a tense pause before she spoke again. ‘Because of a thing at work.’

‘A
thing
?’

She rubbed a hand over her eyes, then batted away his question. ‘I’ve been working fifteen-hour days for weeks and I’m exhausted. Abi thinks I need to step away from work for a while.’

Her whole posture had slouched, as if she’d drawn right into herself.

‘So she sent you here to do cold turkey?’

She didn’t look up. ‘I agreed to come here for a break.’

‘It’s a good job your laptop’s bust and you haven’t been writing tenders, then,’ he said wryly.

A muscle ticked in her jaw.

‘You okay, Josie?’

She looked up sharply. ‘I’m fine. Just tired. In fact, I think I’ll go to bed.’ She unfurled herself and stood up. ‘Goodnight.’

She didn’t look back as she left the room.

Interesting.

* * *

The next morning Josie came downstairs to find the sun pouring in through the patio doors in the kitchen, bathing everything in golden light. There was no sign of Connor and the door to the snug was firmly shut. The heavy tension that had built since she’d woken dropped down a notch.

She’d felt spun out last night, after their conversation about Maddie and work, and had tossed and turned for an hour before falling into a fitful sleep. He’d hit on some real bruises this time, and she didn’t like it one bit. She was going to have to be more careful about what she said around him from this point onwards. He was too perceptive for his own good and she’d already told him more than she was comfortable with.

Only a couple more days, Josie, then he’ll be gone.

Pushing him to the back of her mind, she moved about almost in a dream, making coffee and heaping cereal into a bowl. Even in the sunny calm of the kitchen she felt weirdly buzzed, as if she was anticipating something momentous but had no idea what.

Just as she was pouring herself another coffee Connor strode in, bare-chested, his hair rumpled with sleep, his eyes tired.

‘Morning,’ she said, turning to hide the blush that crept up her neck at the sight of him. Her heart slammed uncomfortably against her chest and she took a long, slow breath in an attempt to calm down.

‘Morning,’ he mumbled. ‘How was my bed?’

She forced herself to look at him, determined not to give away how flustered she was. ‘Very comfortable. How was the sofa?’

He grimaced and rubbed the back of his neck. ‘Short and lumpy.’

Stifling her smile, Josie grabbed another mug, poured in the remainder of the coffee and handed it to him.

‘Thanks.’ He took a long sip, wincing as he swallowed. ‘You like your coffee strong.’

She only just stopped herself saying
Like my men.
Where the heck had this one-track mind sprung from?

They ate breakfast together in silence, the tense atmosphere from the night before still hanging between them.

‘So, what are your plans for the day?’ he said finally.

She shrugged. ‘I don’t have any. A bit of reading, maybe. A short walk. Some relaxing...’ She noticed a smile playing around his lips. ‘What?’

‘I can’t imagine you sitting around relaxing, that’s all. You’re the least relaxed person I’ve ever met. You always look as if you’re itching to move on to the next thing.’

‘Yeah, well, I’m not used to sitting still.’

‘You’re a nervous breakdown waiting to happen. You know that?’

She gave him a tight smile, fighting down her irritation that he seemed to be picking up right where they’d left off last night. ‘I haven’t got time for a breakdown. My schedule wouldn’t allow it.’

He gave her a mirthful stare. ‘You plan everything?’

She straightened the skirt of her halter-neck dress. ‘I like to know what I’m doing.’

‘I’m surprised you haven’t got more of a plan for the day, then—or are you freestyling for the challenge?’

Josie tipped her head thoughtfully. She hadn’t got beyond thinking about what she was going to have for breakfast, taking the day one step at a time. But if she couldn’t work she was going to have to think of something pretty soon, before she died of boredom.

‘Something like that.’ She swept her hand around the stillness of the kitchen and the unbroken landscape that stretched away from them outside. ‘There’s not a whole lot going on around here, so I’m going to have to make my own fun.’

He looked at her then and their gazes locked. His pupils darkened, turning his eyes black. He held her gaze, drawing her into a world of fiery longing. What the hell was going on? A need to touch him almost overwhelmed her. Her stomach did a double flip and her fingers itched to run over his golden skin, tracing the swell of muscles over his arms, across his shoulders, down his chest...

Bad idea.

It had been such a long time since she’d been so attracted to someone it had thrown her into chaos. She’d forgotten how exciting it was, how much fun. Not that this could be any more than a passing whim. She should enjoy the novelty of it but give herself boundaries. Stay in control.

‘Uh...do you fancy another game of chess?’ she asked, pulling her thoughts back onto safe ground before she started drooling. It had been entertaining playing last night, especially when he’d been so disgusted when she’d beaten him.

He shook his head. ‘I can’t. I’m meeting a friend for lunch in Aix.’

‘Oh, okay.’ She kept her tone light, but was annoyed by how disappointed she felt.

‘You could always walk up to Guy’s farm and get some eggs. They’re great when they’re really fresh. Just head north-east. It’s a couple of miles away across the fields.’ He waved in the direction he meant. ‘It shouldn’t take you more than half an hour to get there.’

‘Yeah, okay. I might do that.’ Her wayward voice had taken on a childishly reluctant tone without her consent.

Connor didn’t appear to notice. ‘Want me to draw you a map?’

She shoved her shoulders back in defiance at his coddling behaviour—before remembering his comment about her ‘magnificent rack’ and adjusting her posture to make her stance less overtly aggressive. ‘No, thanks. I’m sure I can find it,’ she said coolly.

‘Don’t leave it too late to walk over there. The heat gets pretty fierce after midday.’ His face was blank of emotion but she was pretty sure he was deliberately winding her up again.

‘Okay,’ she said, gripping her mug hard.

She wasn’t sure why she was so cross with him. She almost felt as if he was abandoning her by going out, which was patently ridiculous. She was a grown-up who was perfectly capable of entertaining herself.

Wasn’t she?

The truth was she never had to do it at home, because she was either thinking about or totally engrossed in work. Being away from it left a big gap in her psyche.

‘Okay. Well, I’m making omelettes tonight, so we’re definitely going to need eggs from somewhere.’

She put her mug down carefully on the table before she threw it at his smug head. ‘You don’t have to feed me, you know.’ Her teeth were beginning to hurt from being clamped together so hard.

‘It’s just as easy to make food for two people,’ he said, shrugging. ‘What are you going to have if you don’t eat with me?’

That was a good point. There wasn’t exactly a lot of food in the house, and the meal he’d made last night had been delicious. She should consider it his fee for her agreeing to share the place; he wasn’t exactly the easiest housemate to live with and she should get some sort of recompense for it.

‘Want me to pick some up in town instead?’ he asked, obviously irked at her slow response.

‘No. It’s fine. I’ll go to the farm,’ she said through tight lips.

‘Great.’ He smiled and went to slap her on the arm, but stopped himself. Their gazes snagged and he gave her a curt nod. ‘Make sure you lock up properly when you go out. See you later.’

He turned and walked out, pulling the door shut a little too hard behind him so that it slammed against the frame.

* * *

After taking a rather circuitous route to the farm a couple of hours later, Josie finally arrived hot and frustrated.

The farmyard was deserted, so she knocked on the heavy oak door to the house. It was heaved open a few seconds later by a short, burly man with a thatch of wiry black hair.

‘Oui?’

‘Hello, Guy, I’m staying with Connor Preston in the farmhouse over there,’ Josie said in French. ‘I would like to buy some eggs from you.’

The man gave her a slow up-and-down inspection.

‘Oui.’

His gaze lingered on her breasts and she had to work hard not to cross her arms defensively in front of her.

Great—a pervy farmer. Just what she needed.

‘Come to the runs with me. I need to collect them,’ he said, gesturing to the side of the house, where a collection of ramshackle barns and pens stood.

She followed Guy at a distance and watched as he checked the nests for newly laid eggs.

Walking back to her with a smile, he stood a little bit too close for comfort as he carefully put the eggs into the bag she’d brought with her. He smelt of dirt and cigarettes and
wrongness
. Wrinkling her nose, she forced herself to stand still. She often found herself turned off people because they didn’t smell right, and he was definitely one of those people.

‘Thanks.’ She took a polite step away from him and handed over a five-euro note.

‘You want some change?’ he said, making it sound more as if he was asking her if she wanted a good seeing-to.

Her skin crawled at the thought.

‘No. Keep it,’ she said, backing away further and holding up a placatory hand.

‘How about a drink before you go?’ he asked.

She was feeling really uncomfortable now. It wasn’t as if she’d never been indirectly propositioned, but she was acutely aware of how alone she was here. He was probably just being friendly, she told herself, but she didn’t want to hang around and find out. Her heart was firing like a piston in her chest and she felt dizzy and disorientated in the heat.

‘No, thank you. I have to get back. Connor’s waiting for me.’ Nerves made her tone snippy.

Guy looked affronted by her rejection of his hospitality, but shrugged and turned and walked away, leaving her there feeling like the rudest woman on earth. Her people skills clearly needed some work.

Not that she didn’t already know that. Abi had made it abundantly clear that she was becoming increasingly difficult to work with. The heavy sinking feeling she’d been dodging for the past couple of days landed squarely on her shoulders. She shook it off. It would all be fine once she got back to London. She’d make sure it was.

She started walking back the way she’d come. The trouble with this place was it looked the same for miles around. There was a tree she thought she recognised in the distance so she made her way towards it, pulling off the heads of some lavender as she went and pinching them between her fingers to release the scent. Lavender was supposed to be good for helping you relax wasn’t it? She was going to need a tonne of it at this rate.

* * *

After an hour of stomping through the fields she began to regret not taking better notice of which way she’d come. She still hadn’t found the farmhouse and she was baking in the fierce heat of the sun.

There was very little shade—just the odd small olive tree dotted here and there. Her mouth felt uncomfortably dry, and the more she thought about it the thirstier she got.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d experienced such intense heat. Her last holiday had been a skiing trip three years ago, which she’d had to cut short because of a crisis at work. Her job had taken her abroad a couple of times, but she’d always been ferried from air-conditioned plane to air-conditioned office. There had never been time for any sightseeing, so she’d just been left with the impression of heat and humidity as an abstract concept.

In short, she was well out of her depth.

* * *

Connor knew there was something wrong as soon as he pulled up to the front of the farmhouse. The heavy oak door was ajar and when he cautiously pushed it open he was greeted by the sure signs of a robbery. All the drawers of the hall sideboard were lying tipped upside down on the floor, surrounded by their contents. It was the same story in the kitchen. The digital radio and a couple of his grandmother’s old ornaments were missing from the snug, but they hadn’t bothered with the ancient TV.

He stood listening for a few seconds, his heart racing from a mixture of anger and fear in case they were still in the house, but it was silent. Luckily there wasn’t anything much of value they could have taken, but he was furious about the violation of his property and the mess they’d made.