The woman skidded to a halt, fiddled with the buttons of her raincoat, then ripped the flaps open.
Chloe pushed her way through the onlookers and ran up the ramp behind her. Even from that vantage point she could see there was way too much bare skin under that coat. Daniel just stared at the woman, eyes on stalks. And not in a good way.
Everything stopped. The only thing moving was Chloe and the only noise was the overhead misters, hissing their displeasure. Exactly why she was racing to Daniel’s side she wasn’t sure; she just knew she had to do something.
When she reached the woman, she noted—thank goodness—that it wasn’t as bad as she’d first feared. At least she was wearing a set of sexy black lingerie … and a message, written on what looked like permanent marker on her torso.
I do, Daniel, it read. Do you?
He just stared at the writing, a look of frozen horror on his face.
Chloe stared too, unable to work out just what kind of desperation drove a woman to do something like that, but then her gaze drifted from midriff to face. What she saw there was possibly even more shocking.
Not just desperation but longing.
The same kind of longing she’d seen in the mirror all those years ago when she’d first met Daniel. The agitation she’d felt while she’d been pushing her way through the crowd quickly turned to sympathy.
‘I … I …’ Daniel managed to stutter, and suddenly Chloe knew exactly what she had to do.
She hitched the fallen raincoat from round the woman’s elbows and draped it across her shoulders, then she went to stand beside Daniel. After taking a deep breath, she slid her fingers into his.
He did a good job of hiding his flinch of surprise, and a second later his larger, stronger hand closed firmly around hers.
The woman’s slightly glazed expression melted into one of horror. ‘You’re … you’re the girl in the picture,’ she said, her voice high and wavering, ‘on that website …’
Chloe nodded and moved close to Daniel, pressing herself into his side. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Sorry.’
The woman nodded and clutched the coat around herself. ‘Oh, God,’ she muttered. ‘I feel so stupid.’
Chloe stepped forward, but it seemed Daniel was reluctant to let go of her hand. He still hadn’t moved and his jaw was set in a hard line. She shot him a work with me look and he unclenched his hand enough to let her wiggle her fingers free.
She put her arm around the woman and led her further along the walkway, high above the Wet Tropics zone and through a glass door into another section, away from the staring crowd.
‘I’m so sorry,’ the woman said. ‘I saw that picture of you two online, but there’d never been anything more. I didn’t realise you two … I thought he was available.’
‘It’s okay,’ Chloe said softly. ‘I understand. He … he has this weird effect on people. On women.’
He certainly had a weird effect on Chloe.
Tears slid from between the woman’s lashes. She nodded and looked at the floor. ‘He just looked like … seemed to be … I don’t know … the kind of man who’d really know how to look after a woman.’ Her head jerked up. ‘Is he?’ she asked, slightly desperately, her fierce gaze demanding Chloe made eye contact.
Chloe didn’t know what to say to that. She hardly knew Daniel, not really. And the truth was she’d been on the receiving end of one of the most humiliating and mortifying moments of her life at his hand. She certainly hadn’t felt very special or looked after at that moment.
But this woman didn’t need to hear that, and there was something in the tone of her question that begged for something positive to cling to from this whole sorry experience.
Chloe spotted a couple of the Kew constabulary slowly making their way towards them. She didn’t know what experiences this woman had had with the opposite sex to get herself in this state, but they couldn’t have been good ones. Maybe she just needed to know that all men weren’t rats, that there were some good ones out there.
She thought about the way Daniel tended his plants, how gentle and patient he could be. Now, if he could bring some of that into his personal life, he really would be a catch. It wasn’t too much of a stretch to give the right answer. She met the woman’s gaze.
‘Yes, he is,’ she said quietly. And as the two constables reached them she reached down and squeezed the woman’s hand.
‘I think she might just need a strong cup of tea and a sympathetic ear,’ she told the constables. ‘No harm done.’
The female officer of the pair smiled and nodded, and Chloe let out a breath. She really hoped the poor woman would get the help she needed.
As for Chloe? Well, maybe she was in need of a little help herself.
No harm done. Really?
She wasn’t so sure about that.
Because she knew that by her actions a few moments ago she’d announced to the onlookers, including Kew staff, and maybe even to the whole world—via the considerate people who’d silently recorded the whole episode on their smartphones—that she and Daniel Bradford were a couple.
The crowd, who were far too nosey to disperse, watched along with Daniel as Chloe re-entered the Wet Tropics zone and walked back towards him. Her chin was high and her make-up perfect. She looked so in control, so assured …
So different from that crazy woman in the raincoat.
The contrast soothed his soul.
At least, it did until she was right in front of him. Just as she reached him he saw a flicker of something else behind the perfection, something in her eyes as she looked up at him—uncertainty, blended with a pinch of nerves.
That shook him.
For weeks now she’d had him convinced that she was impervious, iron-clad. Chloe Michaels was merely a delectable package he was itching to unwrap. A prize to be won. So it was a shock to be reminded that she was a real woman, one maybe, that still had all the idiosyncrasies and puzzling insecurities they seemed to be preprogrammed with.
But then the something he’d seen was gone, and she was back to normal—all gloss and glamour. All colour and scent. He breathed out, relieved that she’d tucked whatever it was he’d seen away, out of reach, and he didn’t need to worry about it any more.
He didn’t say anything to her, just closed the distance between them, caught her hand in his, then led her out of the Princess of Wales Conservatory.
Once outside they kept walking, still joined, far away from the glasshouse, up the Broadwalk and on. They stopped briefly by the lake in front of the vast Palm House.
‘We need to talk,’ he said, ‘about what just happened back there.’
She nodded.
‘Somewhere private,’ he added.
They turned their heads in unison and looked at the Victorian marvel of curved white iron and thin panes of glass not more than a hundred feet away. Although it was one of the prime visitor spots at Kew, and unlikely to be empty, it was filled with drooping plants and massive leaves. Daniel knew there were plenty of places to hide if one knew where to go.
Once inside, he ignored the ‘No Entry’ sign at the bottom of one of the ornate spiral staircases that led from the floor of the Palm House to the gallery that ringed the dome. ‘They’ve just finished trimming the giant bamboo,’ he explained, ‘so we should be the only ones up here for now.’
Chloe nodded and let him pull her up the stairs,