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maleness. Maleness was a smell she had always noticed. It was aftershave, it was sweat, it was wood smoke, damp grass, and even the faint trace of tobacco. Men had those smells, completely unlike the sweet and salty mix that women seem to have; bouquets of flowers mixed with female perspiration. Men most definitely smelt different from females, and the difference excited her.
    His handshake was warm and sent shivers of expectation up and down her spine. His smile became even warmer and she thought it the sort you could drown in.
    ‘Miss Bennet. So pleased to see you.’
    She took the offered hand as she stepped down from the box. The palm was warm, the fingers firm. Just to look at him sent shivers of pleasure coursing like cold water down her spine and into the deep valley between the cheeks of her bottom. For the moment, the ‘angel’ was forgotten.
    ‘Glad to be here,’ she replied, breathless with enthusiasm. Her stomach was still knotted with excitement, her mind still tossing and tumbling the intrigues and stories she had heard about this place. She awaited an introduction to the tall man whose navy-blue jersey had a boat-style neckline that exposed the strength of his neck and the outline of his collar-bone. His flesh was tanned, as warm in colour as clear honey. He was not introduced. His eyes flickered over her for a moment, then stared guiltily ahead, and even though she smiled at him, he did not smile back.
    The ‘angel’ tossed his head, throwing back the sleek blond fringe that covered his forehead. The rest alighted in soft waves around his bare neck.
    Suddenly, she felt hot and her lips seemed dry. This man was something she had not foreseen. She could feel the blood pumping to her cheeks and knew they were becoming as pink as almond blossom. Lust oozed like honey in her hidden love-nest. She felt in great need.
    But Alistair was speaking. With effort, she concentrated on what he was saying. After all, he was the man she had come for; the man who would pay her bills and fall to her charms if she played her cards right.
    Alistair indicated the range of buildings around her, but made no obvious attempt either to introduce or bring the tall blond man into the conversation. Silently the man walked behind them – three paces behind – like some Oriental wife or harem eunuch. It was, she thought with rising curiosity, as though he were not there as a person, only as an item – something Alistair had paid for. All the same, he was beautiful to look at in his navy sweater and his pale-blue jeans. To see him move was enough for her to imagine what might be underneath.
    But she listened attentively as Alistair spoke. His looks, even his voice, demanded her attention. The very tone of his voice and the smell of everything expensive and masculine held her attention. This, she told herself, was a man to behold and to have. In time, she said inwardly. In the meantime, she was still curious to know the name of this blond Adonis who walked three paces behind them. Would he introduce him soon, she asked herself, and what was his job around here?
    ‘If you’d like to unload your animals,’ said Alistair in that warm timbre of his, timing his words to almost half answer her question. ‘Gregory will show you your stabling. After that,’ he added, gazing at Gregory with an odd look of self-satisfaction and mild amusement, ‘he’ll show you your accommodation. He will also help you unwind. He’s very good at that. I’m sure you’ll have no trouble making yourself at home very quickly.’
    A pained look followed the one of self-satisfaction on Alistair’s face, but then it was gone. Penny couldn’t fathom what its meaning might have been, so she didn’t dwell on it. Instead, she looked at Gregory and smiled weakly.
    When she turned again to Alistair, he had already half-turned his back on her. Like a schoolgirl, she felt she had been dismissed, handed over to a lesser staff member, though definitely a very