Home Before Sundown (30 page)

Not my type.

Just the same . . . Sally realised she was smiling at him.

Whoa, girl. Careful.

Granted, she'd caved in to her friends' pressure and come to this ball, but she'd come as an observer, not as a participant. Accepting a drink from a charming guy might seem innocent enough, but it started the ball rolling, so to speak, and awoke possible expectations that Sally had no intention of fulfilling.

Then again, as everyone had lectured her over and over, she had a long and lonely life ahead of her. If she didn't start somewhere . . .

‘You're right,' she said, quickly, before she could change her mind. ‘I could do with a drink. I'd love a glass of —' She'd been about to ask for anything white, but she said impulsively, ‘I think I'd like bubbles, thanks.'

‘Champagne it is.' He extended his hand. ‘The name's Luke. Luke Fairburn.'

‘Pleased to meet you, Luke. Sally Piper.'

His handshake was firm, his palm slightly rough. Sally suspected that he had calluses, presumably from hard outdoor work, and the thought fascinated her more than it should have. Actually, everything about him was . . .

Attractive?

Intriguing?

It felt mad to think that way. Wrong. Of course it had to be wrong. She should be terrified, and yet for some reason she couldn't explain, meeting Luke Fairburn felt . . . ever so slightly . . . okay. Maybe even more than slightly okay.

Sally found herself watching him as he headed to the bar and she realised she wasn't the only female with eyes on this guy. A young woman in killer heels and a super-short, tight, black, contemporary dress spotted Luke, peeled away from her group of friends, and sidled up to him at the bar. With a look-at-me flick of her long blonde hair, she began an animated conversation with him.

It was pretty clear she was flirting her head off, but while Luke didn't rebuff her, his body language wasn't exactly welcoming, which pleased Sally rather more than it should have.

Of course Sally quickly switched her attention back to the photographs so he didn't catch her spying.

Moments later, he returned with her drink.

‘I'm guessing you're not a local,' he said.

‘Not quite,' Sally agreed. ‘I'm from Townsville.'

Luke acknowledged this with a nod, dropped his gaze to her hand. She'd taken off her rings so she wouldn't have to explain about Josh, but she hoped he hadn't seen the faint telltale mark. Her ring finger felt naked and exposed. She was so used to wearing the rings, even flashing them at times, to keep guys at bay.

Now, though, Luke let out a little huff of breath that might have been relief. He smiled. ‘I probably should've asked you to dance before I grabbed these drinks. That dress looks like it's designed for dancing.'

Turning, Sally watched the couples on the dance floor swishing through an old-fashioned number with proper steps, not the usual nightclub shuffle. Many of them had obviously learned these old dances and they were swinging and spinning like professionals. ‘I'm not sure I'd know how,' she confessed. ‘My dress might be from the forties, but I'm afraid my feet aren't.'

She wouldn't admit it, but her high heels were already killing her. It was ages since she'd worn them. She couldn't actually remember the last time.

‘Must admit I wouldn't know which foot to put in front of the other.' Luke grinned again and gestured to her dress. ‘But this is amazing. Did you hire it?'

‘No. It's the real thing. It belongs to one of my grandmother's friends. She actually wore it during the war.'

‘Wow. Must be one sexy grandmother.'

His compliment made Sally's cheeks heat. They were smiling at each other. Again.

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First published by Penguin Group (Australia), 2013

Text copyright © Barbara Hannay 2013

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ISBN: 978-1-74253-766-5