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surprise.”
    “Aww, Kurt, she sounds adorable.” Ann looked hopefully at him from the screen.
    Kurt pictured the wife he had envisaged: cool, sensible and pragmatic, with both high-heeled feet planted firmly in reality. Not one with iris blue eyes that were dangerously soft and wistful and full of dreams.
    He looked into Ann’s expectant features. “No,” he said emphatically. “This one’s definitely not marriage material.”
     

 

Chapter Three
     
    The rain was bouncing down in fat, dirty drops on the pavement when Penny left the shop. She put her ancient leather briefcase over her head and made a quick splash over the road to the pub opposite. A welcome blast of warmth and the delicious waft of home-cooked food met her as she pushed open the door. From the outside, the Edwardian building appeared rather drab to passers-by, but the interior was a stunning surprise. Penny had long since grown accustomed to its magnificence.
    She gave a rapid glance round the gilt mirrors and the splendid cream and red tiles, looking for her denim-clad cowboy-slash-accountant. When a tall, broad-shouldered man stood up from a table in the window, looking darkly handsome in a suit and tie, she didn’t immediately recognise him. Then she twigged. Of course, it was a working day, and Kurt wasn’t a cowboy. He actually worked in finance. That’s why he’s wearing a suit, she told herself, trying to damp down the rush of butterflies that fluttered into life at the sight of him.
    Penny was well known, and many of the pub regulars greeted her warmly as she threaded her way across the room. She was obliged to stop several times to field enquiries regarding her health and that of her grandfather, so that by the time she reached Kurt, she had ample time to regain her usual composure. But when he pulled out a chair for her with a wide, handsome smile, she felt the butterflies flying dangerously back into life.
    “Sorry I’m late,” she babbled. “Sudden rush of customers.”
    “Yes, I know. I saw,” he said. His eyes were smiling.
    Penny glanced out of the window. The rain was easing, and a few lukewarm rays of sun fell across the street, picking out the gold lettering on her shop front. She had forgotten her actions would be visible to anyone sitting across the road in the pub. It had been a full morning, most of which she’d spent engrossed with customers, explaining the background to her antiques—or telling her stories as David used to call it. Now she glanced at Kurt, feeling slightly awkward to have been on display.
    “You look very impressive in action,” he said simply.
    Penny flushed with pleasure. She was struggling to think up a reply when he moved on, lifting the battered cardboard menu from the table.
    “What would you like to eat?”
    The change of subject was gratefully received, and soon they immersed themselves companionably in a discussion of the pub’s traditional English fare. Penny attempted to persuade Kurt to let her pay—insisting he was her customer, after all—and found herself politely, but firmly, overruled.
    As she watched him make his way toward the bar, cutting a path with easy grace through the lunchtime crowd, she couldn’t help but contrast his evident warmth and openness with his coldly logical approach to his love life. The two facets of his character didn’t seem to mesh together. Penny’s time behind the shop counter had provided invaluable experience in dealing with people. She was also intuitive and could generally sum strangers up pretty accurately, but she had to admit that Kurt was a more complex character than the usual customers she met.
    She watched him give their order to a giggling barmaid and noted how he took the girl’s simpering attention in his stride. He was probably used to girls falling over themselves, she thought wryly. After all, the barmaid wasn’t the only woman in the pub whose wide eyes were following him. Quite a few female heads were turning and one group