His expression was serious and she gave a little laugh. ‘Then you’d better be getting back to her.’
Oliver laughed, too. ‘Glad to see that your sense of humour is returning.’
‘Returning?’ She lifted an eyebrow. ‘How do you know I have a sense of humour to return?’
His gaze slid over her face in slow motion. ‘Because you have smile lines around your eyes. Dead give-away.’
Helen’s smile faded and she felt her tummy tumble. Those compelling eyes locked with hers and tension hummed between them.
Sexual tension. It felt dangerous and deliciously unfamiliar.
As if aware of her thoughts, he stroked a warm hand down her back. ‘Just relax and have fun, Helen. Stop thinking. It’s a dangerous pastime.’
She stopped moving, trapped by the expression in his lazy blue eyes and by the feel of his strong hands on her body as he coaxed her closer still.
Close enough to feel the warmth and strength of his body against hers.
Close enough to feel the evidence of his arousal.
Desire curled low in her pelvis and she gave a little gasp and leaned her forehead against his chest, shocked by the power of her own response. Confused. Suddenly the dominant emotion she was feeling wasn’t pain.
Her fingers tightened on his shirt and she felt the steady thud of his heart through the thin fabric, felt the strength of his body against hers as he held her.
And then she caught a glimpse of Bryony across the dance floor.
The bride.
And reality came rushing back.
She wasn’t free to flirt with Oliver Hunter, however sexy he was. She was carrying too much baggage.
‘I’m really sorry but I have to go.’ She dragged herself out of his arms, cast a last look at Bryony and then fled across the dance floor.
CHAPTER TWO
OLIVER swore fluently and followed her, grabbing his jacket and car keys on the way out of the manor house.
Outside, snow lay thickly on the ground and it was easy enough to spot her footprints forming a pattern that led away from the house.
He gritted his teeth.
Where did she think she was going?
They were in the middle of nowhere and she was wearing ridiculous heels and a thin suit that wasn’t designed for winter weather. She was going to freeze to death. And so was he, if he followed her on foot dressed in this ridiculous suit. He glanced down at himself in disbelief, watching as snowflakes settled on his arms, merging with his white shirtsleeves.
Without bothering to put on the jacket, he sprinted to the car park and slid into his car. Switching on the headlights, he drove slowly, squinting into the darkness, until he spotted her halfway down the long drive.
He pulled up next to her and sprang out of the car. ‘Are you mad?’ He paced in front of her, blocking her path, forcing her to stop. He was still in his shirtsleeves, his bow-tie hanging around his neck. ‘It’s below freezing out here and you’re not even wearing a coat!’
She looked at him blankly, her cheeks pale in the glow of his headlamps. Snowflakes clung to her dark hair and dusted her suit and she was shivering violently. ‘I just want to go to the cottage.’
Oliver was about to shout at her for taking such a risk but then he took another look at her and realised that she seemed to be in shock.
And he was rapidly freezing to death.
‘You can’t walk there,’ he said gently, glancing down at her strappy high-heeled shoes with a mixture of disbelief and fascination. If it hadn’t been on her foot he wouldn’t have known it was a shoe. How did women ever walk anywhere in that sort of foot gear? ‘Have you any idea how far it is from here?’
Her teeth were chattering. ‘I thought I’d be able to get a taxi from the end of the road.’