Ally gave a startled gasp, but the hand on her shoulder remained firmly in place as she felt herself gently but purposefully led away.
‘What do you think you’re doing?’ she cried, twisting around to face him.
‘Ssh. I’ll explain in a minute.’
Frowning, and with lips pursed, Ally walked quietly beside Fletcher until they made their way through the throng and reached the main door of the ballroom.
‘OK, now tell me what you’re doing,’ she demanded, still frowning and with her arms crossed over her chest.
‘I’m abducting you,’ he said quietly.
Then as she opened her mouth to retaliate, Fletcher placed a finger over her lips. ‘I’m taking you away, because you’re the most intriguing woman I’ve ever seen and I don’t have much time in Melbourne and...we don’t have time for all the social niceties.’
They stood staring at one another, his finger still warm on her lips. Ally was stunned.
‘But my career hangs on these interviews,’ she stammered.
‘Do you really think so?’
She hesitated. It was a question she’d asked herself many times. She had always tried to ‘do the right thing.’ It was the way she’d been brought up, but she knew that little of what she’d actually said to a journalist ever appeared in print and usually when it did, she was furious at being misquoted.
Fletcher continued. ‘These journos have already made their notes and taken their photographs. And they’ve already made up their minds about your clothes. Now all they want is free food and grog, to be seen with celebrities and to catch up on the hot gossip.’
Ally suspected that he was right. And, she reflected, she’d placed work before pleasure for so long now that she could hardly remember the last time she’d given in to capricious self-indulgence. If she hadn’t been so certain this man was going to be incredibly important to her, she might have wavered. But her mind was too distracted by the thrill of intense excitement and heady anticipation she’d felt from the moment she first saw him. And that simple touch of his hand on her shoulder had seduced her body more surely than the most concerted efforts of any of her previous admirers. She could have been making the biggest mistake of her life, but suddenly she didn’t care. Being with Fletcher Hardy became the only possible option.
‘Where would you like to go?’ she asked with a smile.
‘Do you like Thai food?’
‘Love it.’
They took a taxi to the best Thai restaurant in the city.
‘You know Melbourne well?’ Ally asked as their taxi wove through the traffic.
‘Only the inner city area. I usually only come down for conferences once or twice a year.’
‘And these cows of yours. Beef or dairy?’
‘Beef. I own a cattle property on the Burdekin River. Wallaroo Downs.’
‘The Burdekin? That’s in North Queensland, isn’t it?’
‘Sure is.’
‘A long way from here.’ Ally tried not to sound too bothered by this news.
‘About three thousand kilometres.’
‘And you like living up there?’
‘Yes. I do.’ He slanted her a slow smile and stretched his arm along the back of the seat. ‘And I like visiting down here.’
The restaurant was fairly crowded, but there were still some tables to spare. The gleaming timber furniture, soft cream wool carpeting and enormous ceramic urns of beautiful fresh flowers provided a formal enough atmosphere for them to feel at ease in their elegant evening wear.
‘It’s been too long since I dined out,’ Fletcher commented after they were seated.
‘Well, at least you have an excuse,’ said Ally. ‘I don’t suppose there are too many restaurants on your block, but I’m surrounded by them and I still don’t indulge much.’
‘So, tonight is a treat for both of us,’ smiled Fletcher, and Ally wondered if she had ever seen quite such a sexy smile.
It was ridiculous to feel so excited, so expectant, as if she were a child on her birthday surrounded by beautifully tempting, as-yet-unopened presents, or a skydiver on the brink of a thrilling leap into the unknown.
She willed her stomach to stop fluttering as they chatted about the menu, discussed the food and wine, their likes and dislikes. When the waiter came, Fletcher pronounced the Thai dishes with surprising fluency.
‘You’ve been to Thailand?’ she asked.
‘Not as a tourist. Strictly business.’
‘But you took time out for the important business of eating.’
Fletcher grinned and reached out to take her hand. ‘I’m rather glad Lucette harangued me into coming to your show.’ He looked down at her hand, which seemed so small and white in his sun-tanned grasp. ‘No rings,’ he said and then added with a lift of one dark eyebrow, ‘Does that also mean no strings?’
‘My work pulls me in all kinds of directions,’ Ally admitted. ‘But no strings of the personal variety. I’ve been rather single-minded about focusing on my career.’
‘I can’t believe there haven’t been numerous attempts to sidetrack you.’
She tasted the crisp, white wine Fletcher had chosen while she considered his comment.
‘A girl has to be careful.’ She looked straight into his bright blue eyes. ‘There have been plenty of wolves in the forest, but I always thought Little Red Riding Hood was far too easily led. I’ve mostly ignored them and just kept on going, heading straight for Granny’s house.’
‘In this case, Granny’s house being the Quintessential label?’
‘Yes.’ She smiled.
‘So, after the resounding success of this evening’s show, perhaps you’ve earned yourself a little diversion,’ he said.
‘Per-perhaps.’
But, just remember, a warning voice sounded in her head, that is all this man who lives three states away can possibly be—a temporary diversion. A pleasant—an extremely pleasant—dinner companion.
The meal was superb. A delicious soup of seafood simmered in coconut milk, ginger and coriander was followed by special Thai curries—a green beef curry for Fletcher and a red chicken version for Ally. Both dishes were accompanied by aromatic spoonfuls of fluffy, jasmine rice.
For Ally, the meal, the wine and the accompanying conversation were highly charged. While no one else had ever made her feel so comfortable, her bubbling emotions continually kept her on edge—incredibly excited and happier than she could ever remember, but nervous, too, wondering what on earth she would do when this meal was over and it was time for them to go their separate ways.
They talked and laughed together and she found herself telling Fletcher more about her love for fashion and her ambitions, and he listened intently, making her feel that she was a fascinating conversationalist. He talked a little about the conference that had brought him to Melbourne and very briefly about Wallaroo Downs.
Throughout the meal, his eyes were watching her. They seemed to travel restlessly from her face and throat to her arms and back again and she knew he was as sensitive as she was to something intensely strong and powerful filling the space between them. It was a heady, almost suffocating tension. This must be what they call sexual chemistry, Ally thought with bewildered fascination. Until now men had only ever induced in her a kind of bemused, gentle stirring of her senses. But Fletcher’s compelling masculinity triggered an elemental need that startled her.
So