An Exception to His Rule by Lindsay Armstrong Read Free Book Online Page A

it was just one of those...things. He got furious with me over the accident. I got furious with him because I thought he was arrogant and high-handed and it all seemed to blow up again into—’ She stopped and took a breath then said laconically, ‘If I hadn’t slapped his face I wouldn’t have got myself so thoroughly kissed.’
    ‘Slapped his face!’ Charlie was wide-eyed and incredulously admiring.
    ‘Yes,’ Harriet replied shortly. ‘Not that I’m proud of it, but he did call me Stretch, which is something I can’t abide. And that is the last word I intend to say on the matter. So, off you go, Charlie, please. I need to concentrate on this recipe.’
    * * *
    The studio that had been converted from stables was a pleasure to work in. There was plenty of light, plenty of bench space, a lot of shelving, a sink, even a microscope as well as a computer.
    But, of course, the other thing that made Harriet feel at home was Tottie’s presence. The big dog became her constant companion. They went for walks together. They went down to the beach and they visited the stables together, where Harriet made special friends with one of the horses, a bubbly grey mare that went by the name of Sprite.
    Stan, the stable foreman, offered to let her ride Sprite, if she rode, which she had as a child, but she declined and contented herself with taking the mare carrots every evening.
    And there were other times when Harriet caught herself talking to Tottie as if she were human.
    She’d wondered how Isabel would take this but it only amused her. ‘She’s always been Damien’s dog,’ she told Harriet, ‘but of course he’s away a lot so she doesn’t get to see that much of him.’
    * * *
    So far as the business side of her stay at Heathcote went, one thing Harriet had insisted on was a system whereby all of Damien’s mother’s treasures were dual-catalogued. In other words, Isabel handled them first, kept her own record, then handed them over to Harriet.
    ‘Did you think we’d not trust you?’ Isabel had asked curiously when Harriet had suggested the scheme. ‘You come so highly recommended.’
    ‘It’s always better to be safe rather than sorry,’ Harriet had replied. ‘This way we’re both protected.’
    And Arthur, who drove up from Ballina occasionally, agreed.
    * * *
    Three weeks after she’d arrived at Heathcote, it was a glorious summer’s day and she and Tottie went down to the beach. No one else was home. Charlie had gone back to his base and Isabel, who sat on several committees, was in Lismore helping to co-ordinate a charity drive and was spending the night with a friend.
    They were the only ones on the beach, she and Tottie, and they frolicked in the surf and played with a ball until finally Harriet called out that she had to get back to work.
    But something else had engaged the dog’s attention after she’d dropped the ball at Harriet’s feet. She stiffened, growled low in her throat and then took off like a shaggy arrow in full flight.
    Harriet turned and discovered there was a man standing beside her towel where she’d dropped it on the grass verge above the beach—a man Tottie obviously knew because she skidded to a halt in front of him, barked with obvious joy this time, and leapt up to lay her paws on his shoulders—Damien Wyatt.
    Harriet froze. Then she swallowed nervously as their last encounter and the last thing she’d said to him, the insult she’d offered him, stood out clearly in her mind.
    Plus, even from further down the beach she could see he was wearing a suit, just as he had the day of the accident when he’d been so angry.
    She hesitated and looked down at herself. Her lemon and lime flowered bikini was reasonably modest but it was still a bikini and she would have much rather been wearing a boilersuit or a combat uniform with all its paraphernalia for this encounter.
    There was nothing for it, however, than to stroll up the beach, to say hi as casually as she could and to pick