‘I believe you.’ Damien favoured the vehicle with a lingering look of malice then transferred his gaze to Harriet.
‘Well, enjoy your stay at Heathcote, Miss Livingstone.’ A tinge of irony entered his dark eyes. ‘Don’t go about kissing too many men at the same time as you’re happy to remain fancy-free. Oh, and watch out for Charlie. He is, not to put too fine a point on it, a womaniser.’
Harriet drew a deep breath. ‘Perhaps he takes after you?’ she said quietly, and climbed into her battered old vehicle.
He waited until she’d driven off before saying to Tottie, ‘What the devil do you make of all that? OK, I know you’re on her side, but I don’t ever recall kissing a girl I’ve—virtually—just met like that.’
Predictably, Tottie didn’t answer; she only yawned.
Damien Wyatt shrugged. In fact I haven’t kissed anyone quite like that for a while, he added to himself. Been too busy, been somewhat cynical about the whole tribe of women, to be honest. What I need, if that’s the case, is someone nice and uncomplicated who knows the rules of the game—doesn’t expect wedding bells in other words—rather than importuning an accident-prone, scholarly type who drives a horrible vehicle and has the nerve to suborn my dog!
‘That’s you, Tottie,’ he said severely but Tottie remained serenely unaffected.
‘Of course you could always kind of...keep an eye on her while I’m away,’ Damien added. ‘Heaven knows what “a left-handed syndrome” could lead her into.’
‘Permission to speak,’ a voice said and Charlie strolled onto the drive.
‘Don’t start, Charlie,’ Damien advised.
‘She’s gone, I see.’ Charlie came to a stop beside Tottie and his brother. He shoved his hands into his pockets. ‘Unusual vehicle. For a girl, I mean. Not to mention some kind of an antique dealer, according to Isabel.’
‘It’s her brother’s, apparently. Listen, Charlie—’ he explained Harriet’s background and the agreement they’d reached ‘—so leave her alone, will you?’
Charlie looked offended. ‘Acquit me! Would I try to steal your girl?’
‘Yes,’ Damien said flatly. ‘Not that she’s my girl—not that she’s my girl—’ He broke off and swore. ‘But she’s got a job to do here and the sooner it’s done, the better.’
Charlie frowned. ‘Why do I sense a mystery attached to Miss Harriet Livingstone? Smashing pair of legs, by the way.’
‘I don’t know,’ Damien said shortly. ‘How long are you here for?’
‘Relax, Bro,’ Charlie said cheerfully. ‘I’m due back at the base in a week. By the way, you are now talking to Flight Lieutenant Charles Walker Wyatt. Which is what I dashed into the dining room to tell you, incidentally.’
‘Charlie!’ Damien turned to his brother. ‘Congratulations!’ And he shook his brother’s hand then enveloped him in a bear hug.
‘I suspect I got it by the skin of my teeth but, yeah!’
‘Come in and I’ll shout you a drink.’
* * *