Marrying the Runaway Bride. Jennifer Taylor

much in control—knows exactly what he wants from life and goes for it.’ She shook her head when she realised how that may have sounded. ‘That wasn’t meant as a criticism. Ross is just very single-minded and doesn’t allow anything to stand in his way. It’s one of the things I’ve always admired about him, in fact.’

      ‘Do you think he’ll find it hard to accept that you changed your mind about marrying him?’

      ‘I suppose the truthful answer is that I don’t know. I can’t see him falling apart, though, if that’s what you mean. It just isn’t in his nature.’ She sighed. ‘My father will have a harder time accepting what’s happened. He was terribly upset, blamed himself for pushing me and Ross together. He wouldn’t listen when I tried to explain that it was my fault, not his.’

      Tears welled in her eyes and Archie reached across the table and squeezed her hand. ‘I’m sure your father will get over it in time, Heather.’

      ‘I hope so.’

      Fortunately, their breakfast arrived just then. Heather had opted for scrambled eggs on toast but Archie had ordered the full works—bacon, eggs, sausages, tomatoes, mushrooms, fried bread—and he tucked in with relish.

      ‘Hungry?’ Heather said drolly, scooping up a forkful of buttery eggs.

      ‘Ravenous.’ He popped a chunk of sausage into his mouth, chewed and swallowed, then smiled at her. ‘The only thing left in the fridge last night was a lump of cheese and a tomato so supper wasn’t exactly a cordon bleu experience.’

      ‘Don’t tell me that you’re one of those men who can’t tell a frying pan from a Frisbee,’ she accused him, picking up a triangle of toast.

      ‘The frying pan’s the one with the handle, isn’t it?’ he replied with a wicked little chuckle.

      Heather felt her heart give the oddest little leap and hastily averted her eyes from his laughing face. For some reason she felt all jittery inside and she couldn’t understand it. She bit off a corner of toast then stole a glance at him, feeling shock ripple along her veins when she realised all of a sudden how good-looking he was. She hadn’t paid much attention to how Archie looked before, mainly because she’d had other things on her mind, but suddenly she was seeing him as a man, and a very attractive one, too.

      Facts tumbled over themselves as her brain rushed to log them. He was tall, over six feet, and well built, too, with a muscular chest and broad shoulders. His face was craggy rather than conventionally handsome, his features very masculine with those strong, uncompromising lines. His eyes were gorgeous, a clear deep green framed by dark brown lashes. His hair was the same rich brown colour, thick and glossy as it fell across his forehead. A mouth that had a tendency to curl upwards at the slightest excuse completed the picture. All things considered, Archie Carew was a man whom any woman would be happy to be seen with, and she was no exception.

      Heather took a quick little breath as that thought wriggled its way into her head. She was happy to be there with Archie, very happy indeed.

      Archie wasn’t sure what Heather was thinking as she stared at him across the table. He cleared his throat, uncomfortable at finding himself on the end of such an intent scrutiny, and saw her jump. There was a touch of colour in her cheeks as she applied herself to her breakfast that intrigued him, although he wasn’t going to make the mistake of asking her what was wrong. He didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable.