He gave her an extraordinarily beautiful if condescending smile. Humour the girl. Beautiful white teeth, perfectly even and straight. She felt all her nerve ends clench. “Exaggerating, aren’t you?” he asked ever so slowly, at the same time taking her in. “I only enquired if you can handle the problem.”

She couldn’t mask the irritation his persona engendered. Such feelings had never attacked her before. He was as handsome as the devil. Those eyes! She had never seen eyes so intensely blue. Sapphires set in coal-black lashes. A wave of jet-black hair flopped down onto his high forehead. His skin faintly dewed with perspiration was very fine, lightly tanned. He had a nose disagreeable to her. An aquiline beak, the bone as straight as a blade. You could get impaled on it. He was using it to good effect looking down it at her. Some girls would really fancy him. Most would actually. “I’ve never met with a problem up until today,” she told him shortly. “A less than efficient hire car, in fact a bit of a rattle trap. Steering a bit wobbly. But it’s been okay up to date, which doesn’t explain why the engine suddenly died on me.”

“Would you allow me to take a look?” he asked, mock super suave. He wafted an elegant hand in the air. The Scarlet Pimpernel dressed like a gardener, square shoulders, narrow hips, tight jeans, navy jersey, a red kerchief tied loosely around his neck for a bit of dash, high muddy boots.

Cate didn’t rush to answer. “Know about cars, do you? I didn’t catch your name?”

“Nosey Parker,” he said, moving to stand beside her. Suddenly she was dwarfed when she wasn’t all that short: five-four.

She knew she was being terribly ungracious, but her feelings of hostility were expanding by the minute. “Suits you,” she commented.

From peering into the car, he stood to attention running his vivid blue eyes over her flushed face. Eyes that sparkled and snaffled her up. She preferred soft eyes. Gentle, humorous eyes. Brown maybe. “Have you been drinking?” he asked.

She couldn’t ignore that. “Right! You can smell the fumes, can you?”

“You could have stopped off at The Four Swans,” he answered, continuing to study her keenly.

She might have stepped out of a wrecked space shuttle instead of a beat-up piece of British engineering. Cate’s blonde head snapped up. “Ha, ha and ha! Apart from being nosey, you’re downright rude.”

“No different from you,” he returned with the arrogance that had to be bred into him. “Looks like we’ve rubbed each other up the wrong way.”

“You don’t stand a chance of rubbing up against me,” she said tartly. “So what’s wrong with the car, or don’t you know? I’d say you were used to leaving all that to the chauffeur. No doubt you’re the centre of someone’s solar system?”

“Perfectly true. How did you know?” He got into the car, making a business of squirming before cranking back the seat as though the car had previously been driven by a midget. He then switched on the engine, which kicked over briefly, then gave up the ghost. “The reason for your breakdown—tempestuous little Aussie that you are—is you’re out of petrol,” he announced as he got out.

For a moment Cate was seriously embarrassed. “Nonsense! It was reading a quarter full. Or near enough. And stop staring at me as though I’m from another planet.”

He laughed. “To be perfectly honest I didn’t know extraterrestrials came ravishingly pretty.”

Had she blushed? Damn it, she had. “Don’t feel the need to flatter me.”

“I thought it was a plain statement of fact. As for my opinion of your manner? Prickly as a rose bush. Now, the petrol gauge is obviously not reading true. Where are you going anyway?”

She backtracked. “How did you know I’m an Australian?” she asked as though that created a definite barrier.

“I’d rather not say.” He shut his mouth firmly. It was a very good mouth, a clean sensual line above his chiselled jaw. The edges were faintly upturned. She found herself noting all the little details. She really had to concentrate on something other than his mouth. She felt in her bones he would be a great kisser. It would be interesting to see what happened if he suddenly grabbed her.

“Why would that be?”

“Maybe I’m frightened you’ll attack me.” His sapphire eyes were alive with mockery.

Did her heart turn over? Something in her chest did. Even her legs were feeling a bit flimsy. Nevertheless she took a step forward. “You find Australians threatening?”

Instantly he took a step back, holding up his elegant hands in a gesture of appeasement. “On the contrary, I like Australians. Within reason.”

Cate gave up. He had a very engaging laugh. It made her want to laugh back. “I was on my way to Radclyffe Hall. You would know it.”

“Why exactly?” he asked, with an unexpected frown. “Why Radclyffe Hall?”

Cate’s turn to frown. “Look, can’t we drop the interrogation? I just want to look at it.”

“Then you’ll have to do it from afar,” he said.

“I never said I wanted to drop in for tea and scones.” She tilted her chin. God, he was tall! “What’s your name, by the way?”

“Ashe.”

“Ash?” She raised a supercilious brow. “Your parents called you Ash?” she asked, feigning incredulity. “I’ve never met anyone called Ash. I take it that’s Ashe with an e?”

“Julian Ashton,” he informed her, looking impossibly, unbearably superior. “And you are?”

She considered not telling him. Only she could use his help. “Catrina Hamilton. My family and friends call me Cate.”

“Then I shall call you Catrina.”

“That’s okay. Please do, Ashe. So are you going to help me out?”

He shrugged a shoulder. His body was perfectly proportioned, giving the strong impression of superb physical fitness. “How can I? I’m heading in the opposite direction,” he retorted carelessly.

Cate didn’t know what to make of that. “I understood Englishmen were gentlemen,” she said with sudden dismay. “You must be a rare species.”

He shook his head, loosening the satiny black wave that had stuck to his forehead. “Our womenfolk are much sweeter and more persuasive than you.” He sounded deeply grateful for the fact.

“You must know only quiet, controllable creatures. Does this mean you’re going to leave me stranded on a lonely country road?”

He considered a while, looking this way and that. “An apology might be in order,” he suggested.

“We take it in turns, do we?” she asked. Goodness, he could only be a handful of years older than she, maybe twenty-three or four, but with an imperiousness well beyond his years.

“Okay then. I’m off.” From nonchalance he was energised, turning purposefully towards his parked four-wheel drive.

“So much for being a gentleman, then,” she called after him severely. “Go on. Drive away.” He looked very much as if he was going to. “All right, sorry.” She only said it because that was what he wanted.

Immediately he swung back, beckoning her towards his vehicle, a dusty banged-up Range Rover. “Come along,” he called briskly as though it were possible he’d change his mind. “I’ll run you up to the hall, then send someone back with a can of petrol to pick up your old bomb. The only thing that surprises me is you didn’t finish up in a ditch.”

Cate swallowed a put-down. No need to antagonise him further. Maybe his turning up was an omen?

Good or bad she couldn’t yet tell.

Courteously he held the door for her. His fingers brushed against hers, setting off such an explosion of sparks it almost had her crying, “Ouch!”

Inside the battered Range Rover, the sparks continued to jump the distance between them. It radiated a heat through her body, to her arm, her breasts, her stomach, working its way lower. Every last nerve ending seemed to be on fire. What she had to do was separate her body from her mind. Difficult. She was experiencing the sort of dizziness one had when in the company of someone overwhelmingly attractive. He was definitely not gay. She had gay mates. Love was love wherever cupid’s arrow fell was her reasoning. This guy was powerfully heterosexual. Married? She found herself hoping he wasn’t. He was too young for a start.