excuse me, I have to go home and beat my chest before I book a taxi.’
‘You can’t cycle home in that dress.’ He looked at his wife and then at Daisy. ‘I’ll stick your bike in the back of the car and drive you.’
‘I can manage,’ Daisy said, with dignity.
‘Yes, but you don’t have to.’ He sighed. ‘You’re so ridiculously independent.’
‘Because I hate you treating me as if I’m a baby.’
‘Well, you are my baby sister. OK, OK, I know.’ He held his hands up in surrender again. ‘So what’s the business?’
She told him.
‘Are you sure about this? Because if this guy thinks you’re part of the deal…’
‘He doesn’t,’ she cut in gently. ‘And you don’t have to look after me, Ben. I’m a big girl now.’ She kissed him, leaving him a perfect lipstick-imprint on his cheek. ‘Though I appreciate you watching my back.’
‘Hmm.’ He looked faintly embarrassed. ‘Why don’t you borrow the MG, Daze? It’ll save you waiting for a taxi. I’ll drop your bike back at yours, and you can bring my car back tomorrow.’
‘You’d trust me with your car?’ She knew how her brother felt about his old classic car.
‘Sure. You understand what’s under the bonnet. You’ll treat her as she deserves.’
Daisy swallowed the lump in her throat. Was this Ben’s way of telling her that he saw her as an adult after all? ‘Thanks, Ben. I love you.’
‘Good.’ He smiled at her. ‘I would ruffle your hair, but then Lexy would kill me for messing up her hard work. Go knock his socks off, kid. And if he says a word out of line—’
‘I’ll tell him my favourite brother’s bigger than he is and will come and sort him out,’ she teased, and hugged him again, before hugging Alexis, too. ‘See you later. And thanks for the support. You two are wonderful.’
She drove to the coast. Ben was right, driving the MG did make her feel like a million dollars, but at the same time her stomach was tied in knots. Not just because so much depended on tonight: it was the thought of meeting Felix himself.
This wasn’t a date, she reminded herself.
But it felt weirdly like one.
Worse, she was looking forward to seeing him. Fencing with him. Which she really shouldn’t—not when the fairground was depending on her. She had to keep things strictly business. Even if Felix Gisbourne did have an incredibly sensual mouth that made her want to trace it with the tip of her forefinger, before reaching up to kiss him really, really slowly.
Which was utterly ridiculous, and she should know better.
She parked and walked into the hotel reception at five minutes to seven, remembering Alexis’s instructions to do the catwalk strut.
‘Mr Gisbourne is expecting me,’ she said.
‘Miss Bell?’
‘Ms,’ Daisy corrected with a smile.
‘Of course. If you’d like to wait over there, madam?’
Butterflies stampeded in her stomach as she sat down. Did it make her look too keen, being early? On the other hand, she’d failed to turn up for their meeting that morning, so maybe this would redress the balance. Would he make her wait, just to make the point about punctuality, or would he come down straight away?
The doors of the lift slid open and he walked out of the lift. He was wearing a dark grey suit—a slightly different cut, she noticed, so it wasn’t the one he’d worn to the fairground—teamed with a pristine white shirt and another understated silk tie. The butterflies in her stomach did a victory roll as he glanced over to her and she saw his jaw drop.
Willing her face to look calm and confident and completely belie how she really felt, she stood up and sashayed towards him.
No way could the pocket Venus in the hotel lobby be Daisy Bell.
Felix had to look twice, and then a third time.
But she strode confidently towards him and he realised that it really was her.
He would never have guessed in a million years that she’d scrub up so well. Her hair was the colour of a new conker, and just as shiny, falling in soft waves to her shoulders; it was a crime to keep it stuffed inside that oversized cap she wore at work. And that shapeless boiler suit had hidden a perfect hourglass shape. Her little black dress was demure and understated, no plunging neckline or clinging skirts, but it showed off her curves to perfection. If she’d worn elbow-length gloves and a big hat, she could’ve been a ringer for Audrey Hepburn.
Daisy Bell was utterly gorgeous. She was nothing like the women he usually dated, and absolutely nothing like the women that his mother was perpetually lining up for him. But she was pure energy, combined with a quick wit and a sassy mouth wrapped in a body that made all his hormones go straight into party mode.
Felix couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt an attraction this strong.
And he wanted. So badly that it shocked him to the core.
‘No jeans or boiler suits, you said. I trust this passes muster?’ she asked coolly.
His comment had clearly stung. Felix unglued his tongue from the roof of his mouth. ‘I apologise for that. I wasn’t having a go at you.’
‘No?’
‘Wrong phrase. I meant simply that there was a dress code, and I didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable if…’ He grimaced. ‘I’m digging myself into a bigger hole here.’
‘Indeed.’
He sighed. ‘Bill warned me you were touchy about sexism and could give as good as you get.’
‘Did he, now?’ she asked dryly.
He knew it was a rhetorical question, so he didn’t bother answering it; instead, he said quietly, ‘You look stunning.’
She looked utterly taken aback, and then she blushed. Right to the roots of her hair, giving Felix all kinds of thoughts that he had no intention of giving voice to. And intriguing him, too; it seemed as if she wasn’t used to compliments. Strange. Daisy Bell was seriously striking, when she wasn’t hiding behind her chief-mechanic clothes. Surely men told her all the time how beautiful she was?
And that look in her eyes, quickly masked, told him that the attraction was mutual—even though he was pretty sure he was nothing like the men she usually dated, either.
There was a definite connection between them.
So what were they going to do about this?
Mixing business and pleasure was a mistake he didn’t make. Ever. But Daisy Bell really tempted him to break all his rules. Tempted him to reach out and twirl a strand of her hair round his forefinger, to see if it felt as soft and silky as it looked. To kiss her, to find out if her sea-green eyes turned the colour of jade when she was aroused.
She looked at his mouth, and he knew from her expression that she was thinking exactly the same thing—wondering what it would be like. How he would taste. How electric it would be between them…
He needed to get this back on professional terms, and fast. He held his hand out to her. ‘Thank you for coming to meet me tonight, Daisy. Shall we go and eat—and talk business?’
Daisy let Felix take her hand, and it felt as if the blood had started to fizz in her veins. She knew it was the same for him, too, because colour slashed across his cheekbones. He blushed just as he’d made her blush all over with a compliment—one that she’d seen in his eyes was genuine, not just a line he was spinning her.
What on earth was happening? She never,