One Reckless Night. Sara Craven

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      CHAPTER THREE

      ALL the way across the green, Zanna could hardly believe that she was doing this.

      I make my own plans, she thought. I’m the one in control. So how the hell am I on my way to some village hop, with a rustic grease monkey who has far too much to say for himself?

      And who, whether she wished to acknowledge it or not, had far more than his fair share of sexual charisma, a voice in her head warned acerbically.

      The kind of man that Suzannah Westcott would have shunned by miles.

      But tonight, just for a few hours, she was leaving Zanna Westcott behind her. She was going to be Susie Smith instead, and find out, maybe, how the other half lived. And where was the harm in that? she argued with herself as she looked up at the velvety sky.

      With the man walking at her side, that was where, returned the voice in her head, which refused, stubbornly and annoyingly, to go away.

      Above the dark roofs the stars seemed close enough to touch, and a sliver of new moon was peeping round the church tower. Ahead of them, the hall was festooned with coloured lights, and music drifted on the faint breeze.

      It was, to all intents and purposes, a night for lovers, she thought with unease. And if Jake had tried to take her hand, or put an arm round her waist, she knew she would have turned tail and fled back to the sanctuary of her solitary room at the pub. But he didn’t attempt even the most casual physical contact. For which, she told herself firmly, she was sincerely thankful.

      And then they were inside the hall and people were calling greetings, their welcoming smiles mixed with friendly speculation as they looked at Zanna, and imperceptibly she began to relax. After all, she reasoned, there couldn’t be much danger in a room full of other people.

      She hardly recognized the hall itself. In the space of a few hours all traces of the exhibition had been removed and the entire room decorated with more lights and swathes of silk flowers. Tables and chairs had been set out round the perimeter of the dance floor, and a three-piece band was playing on the platform.

      It was like stepping back through a time-warp into another era—another planet, she thought, staring round her.

      ‘What were you expecting—the latest disco sounds?’ He didn’t miss a thing.

      ‘No—oh, no,’ she denied hastily. ‘It’s—quite a transformation, that’s all.’

      Jake’s brows rose. ‘Then you did come to see the exhibition?’ He sounded surprised.

      ‘Of course,’ she countered lightly. ‘What else?’

      He shrugged. Suddenly that hooded look was back. ‘I was hoping you’d tell me.’ He paused. ‘Did you actually buy any paintings?’

      ‘No—the one I wanted wasn’t for sale.’ She hadn’t meant to say that, she thought with vexation, and went on hurriedly, ‘In fact, most of them had been sold. The standard of work is absolutely amazing for such a small village. They must have a very good teacher.’

      ‘several. I believe.’ His tone was almost dismissive. ‘They also have a drama group, a gardening club and a choir, so you won’t go short on cultural activities.’

      ‘I won’t?’ She looked up at him, puzzled, and saw his mouth slant in a grin.

      ‘When you come to live here.’ he explained gently. ‘I thought you were planning to buy a house?’

      ‘Well, yes.’ She could have kicked herself. ‘But I gathered I was on a hiding to nothing over that.’

      Jake shrugged again. ‘I suppose there’s always a chance—if you make the right offer,’ he returned. ‘As I said, the caretaker for Church House will be around later. You could always have a word with him. See how the land lies.’

      ‘Thank you, I certainly will.’ She made herself speak casually. ‘Is there some kind of local history group in the village, by any chance? I’d like to get to know a little more about the place before making any firm decision, you understand?’

      ‘Oh, СКАЧАТЬ