The Man Who Saw Her Beauty. Michelle Douglas

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      ‘Words are cheap.’

      He saw then that she was right. He could repeat over and over again until he was blue in the face that he had faith in her, he could say it till the cows came home—and he would the moment he got home—but the only way to truly reassure Stevie, to prove that he believed in her, was to support her in a material way. Like co-ordinating her fundraising efforts.

      On the up side, being involved did mean he’d have a chance of protecting her against the more unsavoury aspects of the pageant, the competitiveness and bitchiness and constant undermining of one’s self-esteem …

      ‘It looks as though you have yourself a deal, city girl.’ He could have sworn, though, that when he extended his hand she was curiously reluctant to take it.

      Blair might act all haughty and aloof, but somehow he knew he’d needled his way in under her skin. The thought made him grin. It made him hold her hand for longer than custom demanded.

      When he finally released her the colour in her cheeks was high and a purely masculine satisfaction settled in the pit of his stomach.

      Game on.