Pitch Imperfect(27)
To Halton Forest, man?
Despite “last orders” Ash often locked the pub and allowed the punters a few more drinks when Scotland won a game. Was Damien kissing Anjuli in there, this very second? He hadn’t stopped glancing at her during the game, and the expression on his face had said he was going to try it on, sooner rather than later. Not that Rob had been paying attention. Much.
Sarah stood and playfully shook his arm. “Heaverlock to handsome, are you going to answer me? Do you know why Anjuli Carver suddenly came back?”
No, but I’m going to find out. “She wants me to restore her manor.”
“Oh? Are you going to? It would make a great feature. Sulky Celebrity Seeks Safe Harbour in Heaverlock.”
“Sarah...”
“Just kidding. But I would love to interview her, even if only for a story on the house. I’d be on my best reporter behaviour and could endear her to the village. Just tell me when and where you’re meeting and I’ll do the rest.”
“Friday morning at the office, after eleven but probably before twelve.”
Sarah looked perplexed, then her face brightened. “I could come by earlier, show you what I’ve written up about you and get any additionals I need.”
“I’m not sure what else I’ve got that morning. Mrs. P. keeps my schedule.”
Sarah leaned into him. “And does she also keep your social diary? I’m in need of a partner for the ceilidh.”
Damn, his intuition had been right. “I’m meeting up at the Town Hall with Mac and Craig, but I’m sure I’ll see you there.”
Sarah heaved a put out sigh. “Everybody in this village is either married or paired up. Craig and Mac...Damien and Anjuli...”
“They’re not together,” he said sharply.
Sarah put her hand on his arm. “They soon will be. Trust me, I know when a woman fancies a man, and as for Damien, well, he’s on the prowl for his next ‘gorgeous’ conquest.”
Fury rushed through his blood. Men like Damien lumped the opposite sex into generic labels to get into their pants—beautiful, sexy, gorgeous—all true where Anjuli was concerned, but if any man called her those things it would be him. “Damien can go to hell,” he said in a growl.
Startled, Sarah blinked, then her face grew sultry and she laced her arms around his neck. “He can go to hell and you can go to paradise,” she whispered, then kissed him on the mouth.
Surprised, Rob forced himself to stay still. Maybe he was wrong, maybe he could feel something for Sarah, forget Anjuli and try to love the intelligent, warm woman in his arms. But it was no use. Sarah wasn’t the woman keeping him awake at night, making him drench his sheets with unfulfilled need. She wasn’t the woman whose voice he wanted to hear, whose body he ached to cover with his. She might have offered to take him to paradise, but it seemed he preferred to live in hell.
All he could think of was dark brown hair, hazel eyes and firm, full curves. Sarah’s body didn’t fit with his the way Anjuli’s did. Her mouth was the wrong shape, her hair the wrong texture. She wasn’t the right height to rest his chin on her head and cocoon her body with his.
Gently, he set her away. “I’m sorry, Sarah. I wish I could, but I don’t want to lie to you. It would never work.”
For a moment, Sarah looked crestfallen, then she shrugged her shoulders and pulled up her bodice. “Can’t blame a girl for trying.”
At the door, Rob didn’t know whether to shake her hand or kiss her cheek. To his relief, Sarah solved the problem for him, giving him her usual friendly peck. “I’ll wear something to the ceilidh that won’t clash with the Douglas plaid.”
“Sarah...”
Her brows lowered. “You cannot be so unkind as to let me go alone, Robert Douglas, not when the entire village will say I’m out to steal a boyfriend or three if I show up without a date. You have to come with me.”
He felt like a bastard, but he had to say it. “As friends.”
“Of course,” she said firmly. “And friends don’t let friends dance alone.”
Rob’s thoughts drifted to Anjuli. She wasn’t his friend and he didn’t want her to be but if he had his way she wouldn’t be dancing with Damien.
Chapter Seven
Damn Brendan to hell. Anjuli’s visit to Glasgow had been pointless. Brendan didn’t have the money and probably never would. He’d been apologetic, but that hadn’t stopped him from reminding her he hadn’t signed an IOU. If she sued he’d let his new wife tell the papers it was a desperate attempt to keep him at her side.
Bastard.