An Exception to His Rule(18)

                It was just before they were called into dinner that Charlie said thoughtfully, ‘There’s something about that girl, Damien. Easy to run onto the rocks there—take care.’

                Damien Wyatt opened his mouth to deny that there was any possibility of his running onto any rocks with Harriet Livingstone but he closed it.

                And he said musingly, ‘I’m glad to hear you say so because for the last few hours I’ve been wondering what on earth got into me. So what do you think it is?’

                Charlie shook his head. ‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘But some women just have an aura of...reserve, maybe, with a dash of vulnerability, a tinge of heartbreak perhaps, and that—’ he waved his tankard ‘—certain something you just can’t put into words.’

                ‘That je ne sais quoi,’ Damien murmured. He frowned. ‘And you sensed all this about Harriet Livingstone in—roughly two minutes?’

                Charlie looked wise. ‘I once decided to date a girl I saw riding past me on a bicycle. All I saw was the curve of her cheek and all this shiny brown hair floating out behind her but it was enough. I chased her in my car, persuaded her to pop the bike in the boot and have lunch with me. We dated for quite a few months.’

                ‘What broke it up?’ Damien enquired curiously.

                ‘The Air Force. I didn’t get to spend enough time with her. Anyway, getting back to you. After Veronica, well...’ Charlie shrugged as if he didn’t quite know how to go on.

                ‘Veronica,’ Damien repeated expressionlessly.

                ‘Your ex-wife,’ Charlie explained generously. ‘Gorgeous girl, of course, but—tricky.’

                Damien raised his eyebrows. ‘Good at hiding it, though.’

                ‘Met her match when she ran into you, however,’ Charlie declaimed. ‘I—’

                ‘Charlie,’ Damien said gently, ‘the only reason I’ve let the discussion get this far is because I’m feeling rather mellow on account of your promotion but that’s enough.’

                ‘Right-ho! Just don’t say I didn’t warn you!’

                * * *

                ‘Isn’t that the guy you ran into?’

                Brett Livingstone sat in a wheelchair in his pleasant room in the rehabilitation centre but his expression was troubled.

                Harriet sat in an armchair opposite. She’d come straight from Heathcote with the news of the job she’d got—she hadn’t told her brother anything about it before in case it hadn’t come off.

                ‘Yes. But that’s all in the past and it’s not only what I love doing, it comes with accommodation.’

                ‘Are you safe with him?’

                ‘Safe?’ Harriet stared at him. ‘Of course.’

                Brett looked angry. ‘He sounded like a thug and a bully.’

                Harriet bit her lip. ‘It was a very beautiful car. But look; his aunt lives there. So does his brother from time to time, and there’s staff. And he has this marvellous dog. Her name’s Tottie and she’s very highly bred.’

                Brett smiled reluctantly as he studied his sister’s bright expression. ‘Any kind of a dog could get you in, Harry.’