Blind Date Rivals

And then Sara tilted her head and looked up at the tall man whose eyes had rarely left hers for the whole time that they had been out on the terrace.

‘And how about you? How do you know Caspar? I noticed you chatting when you came in and, no offence, but you don’t look like a lawyer.’

The corner of his mouth turned up into a small smile which even in this light seemed to illuminate his face and soften the harsh contours, making it even more handsome than it was before.

‘None taken,’ he replied and pursed his lips. ‘Caspar used to date my younger sister. And I think it’s time for a twirl.’ He stepped back as the music soared to a crescendo and lifted his left arm high above her head, just far enough so that Sara could turn around in probably the worst twirl under the sun, but they were both laughing at the end of it.

Judging by the applause and cheers that burst forth from the party, they had not been the only ones who had tried to match the music with some dancing.

Instantly the music shifted to a loud song from a children’s cartoon sung by dancing kitchen utensils and her vampire looked at her and shrugged.

‘I agree,’ Sara murmured and shook her head. ‘I think that’s my signal to sit the next dance out. But thank you, kind sir. And now it is my turn for a question. Isn’t that a little awkward?’ she asked as his hands released her and she felt in desperate need of a distraction to fill the growing space between them.

‘Seeing Caspar with Helen? You do know that they adore each other?’

He raised an eyebrow and chuckled as he leant back against the railing. ‘I certainly hope so since I have been invited to their wedding. But no, it isn’t a problem. In fact I’m pleased for him. It was years ago, my sister is happily married and quite pregnant and Caspar has found someone who loves him. Good luck to them both.’

Then he turned sideways. ‘You dance beautifully. And in fact I should be thanking you for helping me to make a lucky escape.’

He chuckled loudly and thrust both hands deep into the trouser pockets of his tuxedo trousers. ‘The lovely Helen had set me up on a blind date! Can you believe it? I am sure her old school friend is absolutely charming but there is no way that I intend to date a country girl who needs Helen’s help to find an escort for the evening. Thank you but no. I don’t do country. Never have, never will.’

Sara very slowly and carefully moved closer to the handrail so that she could gaze out over the lawns without looking at the vampire. Was it possible? Was this the famous Leo that Helen was trying to set her up with? Caspar’s friend?

She almost groaned out loud. Of course! Who else would it be?

Sara’s cheeks burned with humiliation and embarrassment. How could she have been so stupid? She was never going to live this one down.

Now what did she do? Tell the truth? Try and laugh it off and save them both the embarrassment? What were the alternatives? After all, she already knew that he would be an usher at Helen and Caspar’s wedding, so there was no escaping him. But right now at this minute he had no idea that she was the country bumpkin in question.

She glanced up at him and instant regret fluttered through her.

Just when she was enjoying this man’s company, there was a sting in the tail. He was handsome, generous and a good listener. Those were good credentials for any date. Helen certainly did good work except for one tiny thing. This man had no intention of going out on a blind date with her, just as she had no intention of going out with him.

Suddenly all the enjoyment of her waltz in the moonlight seemed to drift away into the air like smoke in the wind. Every spark of energy and enthusiasm was extinguished, leaving behind a sad and pathetic girl whose friends took pity on her.

Dracula was right. She had become the country girl he so clearly despised, just as her mother had predicted she would. Clumsy, gauche, uncultured and unattractive. Destined for a life alone because no decent man would look twice at her. She could just hear her mother’s voice, drenched with disgust and disappointment, on the day after the funeral when her ex-boyfriend had dumped her and taken off back to London as fast as his sports car could take him.

Well, it looks like you were right, Mum.

Suddenly the enormity of everything that was happening in her life seemed to crash down on her, and Sara shivered in her sleeveless shift dress. There was no way that she could go back into the party now.

It was time to go home. And back to the insular life she had created for herself and all of the harsh realities that lay there—and definitely without this man who had treated her as an equal for an hour. He looked so handsome and clearly successful, while she was a walking advert for a mess.

‘Feeling cold?’ Dracula asked and, without waiting for a reply, he reached behind his shoulders and slipped off the scarlet-lined cape and draped it in a single swirl of his wrists around her neck so that it fell almost to her bracelets in a cocoon of body-warmed fabric. Sara inhaled the perfume of the man’s body and, despite her best efforts to resist, pulled the fabric closer around her so that his warmth penetrated her goose-fleshed arms and the shivering died away.

‘Thank you,’ she murmured but still could not look him in the eye. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll head home for the evening. It has been a long busy week. I’ll make sure that Caspar returns the cape to you before you leave. Thank you for your company.’

‘Hey, wait a moment, Cinderella,’ he replied as she lifted her head and tried to walk casually back to the side gate which led to her cottage. ‘Did you say that you were staying across the lane? Please allow me to see you home. It is the very least I can do, seeing as you gave me such a lucky escape.’

And, before she could accept or decline, Dracula stepped in place beside her and they strolled side by side across the lawns and away from the house in silence. Her throat burning with humiliation, her eyes stinging. Incapable of speech.

CHAPTER THREE

SOMEWHERE in her bedroom a full symphony orchestra was playing what should have been a soothing overture to a lovely ballet. Except, to Sara’s ears, the instruments sounded as though they had been tuned in a sawmill.

She stirred and tugged the duvet farther towards her chin, then yawned loudly. The first thing on her to-do list that morning would be to retune the radio to a popular music channel.

She tried to snuggle back to sleep, but there was something uncomfortable on her pillow.

She reached up until her fingers closed around a string of pearls.

Oh, no! She must have slept in them all night. There would probably be bobble-shaped marks all over her neck and chin.

Never mind. It was early. She still had plenty of time to recover from last night and get smartened up before her meeting at the hotel.

Last night! Ah, the party. That would explain why she felt so weary. She ran her tongue over her parched lips. Juice. She needed juice. Then tea would be good.

Her eyes flickered slowly open and both hands lifted the duvet as she glanced down.

Helen Lewis had a lot to answer for. It had been years since she had been so tired that she had crawled into bed in her underwear. Sara glanced around her bedroom and, sure enough, her black dress lay across the armchair at the foot of her bed.

Sara was still mentally shaking her head when an Abyssinian ball of fur and mischief launched itself onto the duvet and sashayed up, until Sara could scratch between his ears.

‘Oh, Pasha, you know that you are not allowed in here.’

She laughed as the rich golden brown cat purred with pleasure, then started nudging her face, the cute red nose pushing against her neck so he could play with the pearls that she was still wearing.

‘Ready for breakfast? Good. I’ll head for the shower and repair the damage before anyone sees me.’

Sara pushed back the covers and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. It took a second or two before her world stopped spinning, but at least she was on her feet and ready to get to work. She had a lot to do today and not much time to do it in.

She was still feeling dreamy and slightly dazed when her toes crushed down onto something round and hard on the soft handmade rug that had come with the cottage when she inherited it …

She dared not look down.

Oh, please, not something else her cat had brought in.

Sure enough, Pasha came sidling up to her and started rubbing himself up and down her legs.

‘Pasha, if you have been in the kitchen bin again, you are in so much trouble!’

Her grandmother’s old cat had a knack for finding something from the floor to play with. Loose screws, plant ties, paperclips—they all ended up being scooped out and played with. And Helen had brought bags of treasures with her when they played dress up before the party.

Sara knew from personal experience that all jewellery and shiny small items had to be locked securely away unless she wanted them to be redistributed around the cottage as cat toys.

‘Okay. Let’s find out what you’ve brought me this time!’

Sara moved her foot and glanced down at the floor.