A Millionaire For Molly

CHAPTER TWELVE

THE farm looked even more splendid than it had three weeks ago. Jackson’s helicopter circled the boundaries to allow him to check every inch of his prospective purchase before landing. It really was the loveliest place on earth. All he had to do was talk Hannah around, sign a contract and it was his.

But why was he buying it?

Because it’s paradise, he thought. But that wasn’t a good enough reason. Not now. Could he use it?

I will, he told himself. I can work from here. With telecommuting and teleconferencing I can spend most of my time here.

Yeah, with Mr and Mrs Gray-and a thousand frogs.

And maybe with Molly.

And that was the crux of the deal, he thought. That was the half-formed desire. He just needed to see…

Hell, he should have more sense.

Isolation was what he did best, he told himself over and over. Had he learned nothing? Nannies and boarding school and distant parents were tools for survival. If he hadn’t distanced himself from emotion-from any emotion-he would have gone under as a kid. His parents’ love had come close to suffocating him and he hadn’t been able to escape.

Then he’d made that one huge mistake. He’d fallen for Diane. He’d been young and he’d been foolish-and he’d let himself love. Or he’d thought he loved.

Then she was pregnant. ‘Great,’ he’d said, and he’d meant it. A family… For the first time in his life he’d conceded such a thing was possible, and the feelings he’d had for the unborn child had threatened to overwhelm him.

But a week before the wedding there’d been a note from someone warning him that he wasn’t the father. Say a name, the note had said, and see how Diane reacts.

He shouldn’t have done it. He should have trusted. But…

‘Have you heard of…?’ he’d asked-and all hell had broken loose. Stunned, he’d watched as the woman he’d thought he loved turned into a raging virago. How dared he question her? How dared he imply the baby wasn’t his?

But he hadn’t implied any such thing. All he’d said was the name.

The next morning she was gone. It had been a lying, cheating con, devised to steal money from a wealthy adolescent.

And that, with the history of his parents’ failed relationship, had left him determinedly single for ever. Cara was the only person he trusted.

The farm was to have been a place where they could base themselves when life got tough. Now the farm would be only his, and the thought made him feel unbearably alone.

Which was stupid. After all, he’d constructed his life so he’d be happy alone. It had taken him thirty-three years to get this far-he didn’t intend to regret it now.

But if Molly was here, waiting…

Molly would be with Michael.

Roger Francis had phoned just before Jackson left New York and told him they’d be arriving separately. Roger was driving himself, Miss Copeland was being driven by her chauffeur, and Molly and Sam and Michael were coming together.

Great!

Hell, he’d helped orchestrate her reconciliation with Michael, he thought savagely. He should be pleased.

He was pleased, he forced himself to decide. Sam would have a secure base. A secure family.

But with a man who’d been prepared to rob Molly blind…

It was none of his business! Hadn’t he learned anything from the past?

He looked out of the chopper and saw the eager faces of Doreen and Gregor waiting to greet him. They were his future. No one else. With a sigh he summoned up a matching smile.

This was a great buy. He should get on with it.

‘Michael, the road to Birraginbil’s to the north. You should have turned off back there.’

‘Are we going to Birraginbil?’

‘Of course we are.’

‘Look in the glove compartment, sweetheart. I have a surprise for you.’

‘A surprise?’

‘An engagement ring. And plans for a wedding.’

Things weren’t going to plan.

Hannah Copeland was receiving in state, seated formally in the vast front parlour, and her displeasure was obvious the moment Jackson walked in.

‘So you’re alone,’ she snapped. ‘What have you done with your fiancée, young man?’

‘I thought I told you,’ he said quietly, crossing to shake her hand, ‘Cara’s not my fiancée.’

Where was Molly?

‘Yes. But she’s someone you have an arrangement with.’

‘I did have an arrangement with her,’ he said honestly, and watched her face. Her displeasure grew.

‘You mean you haven’t now?’

‘No.’

‘Can I ask why not?’

‘I think that’s my business.’

She rose, matriarchal in her annoyance. ‘Then I’m not prepared to sell you my property. The arrangement was that I’d meet your intended.’

‘I don’t have an intended.’ He spread his hands. ‘There’s only me.’

Where the hell was Molly?

He managed a smile and decided honesty was the best policy here. His precious privacy could take a back seat.

‘Hannah, Cara is my half-sister,’ he told her. ‘She and I had arranged to share your farm, but she’s fallen in love with a Frenchman. So I’m alone. I love this place, and I’m prepared to look after it as you’d want it looked after. But I can’t give more than that. I can’t claim relationships that won’t happen.’

The old lady stared at him in bewilderment, and Jackson thought she could decide either way.

But then Roger Francis appeared at the door.

‘What is it?’ Clearly Hannah had no time for the smart lawyer and she was seriously displeased. ‘Have you heard anything from Miss Farr?’

‘Where’s Molly?’ For the first time Jackson voiced his thought. His brows clipped together. The agreement was that she’d be here well before him. Hell, if she didn’t even come…

‘I’m sorry.’ Roger Francis spread his hands in helpless anger. ‘Of all the inept… Mr Baird, I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I should never have let you look at this property in the first place.’

‘What is it?’

‘Your realtor has taken off for her honeymoon-taking your contract and your titles with her.’

Silence. The silence went on for so long that it became jarring. Miss Copeland stared her displeasure at both of them, and Roger Francis coughed and stole a glance out of the window, avoided looking at Jackson. As well he might. Jackson’s face was stony and remote-like chiselled granite.

‘What happened?’ he asked at last, and Roger spoke again. Too fast.

‘She rang from the airport a couple of hours ago. I tried to catch you before you left Sydney but your mobile must have been switched off. So now I have to tell you. The phone call was from your Miss Farr… She sounded giggly and apologetic and altogether too foolish for words. It seems this Michael arrived last night with tickets to Hayman Island for himself, Molly and the boy. And plans for their marriage. He wouldn’t take no for an answer and, as she said, it’s not often you get an offer like that. So they left.’

So they left.

‘They were on the nine o’clock flight from Sydney.’

They’d almost passed in transit, Jackson thought, and he felt sick.

Why? Because of the farm?

No. He knew damned well that the farm didn’t come into it at all.

‘And what of the contracts?’ Hannah demanded, but her eyes were on Jackson’s face. She wasn’t interested in contracts-or farms-either. There were undercurrents here that she’d have to be obtuse not to understand.

Roger Francis spread his hands. ‘I have no idea what she’s done with them. Neither has her boss. I phoned him just now. He was playing golf with no idea of what had happened, and the news hit him as hard as it’s hit me. It seems she just dropped everything and went.’

More silence.

‘That’s that, then.’ Hannah’s voice was bleak and final. ‘No contracts. No partner. No Miss Farr. It seems I can’t sell you my farm even if I want to, Mr Baird. Maybe when we get back to Sydney we can-’

‘I don’t think we can.’ Jackson raked his fingers through his thick black hair and closed his eyes. His voice was as bleak as midwinter. ‘Hell.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Roger said, and Jackson opened his eyes again and focused on his lawyer.

‘You say you spoke to her?’

‘Yes.’

‘And she sounded happy?’

‘Yes, sir. Exceedingly happy.’

‘Damn.’ He swore. ‘I should have…’

‘But you didn’t.’ It was Hannah, looking at him with open curiosity and seeing where his mind was headed. ‘How about a fast trip to Hayman Island?’

‘I’d never make it in time. And if she loves the man…’

‘But what if she loves you?’ she suggested gently-and waited.

‘I don’t know.’ He groaned. And then he caught himself. After all, he’d been trained since birth to receive blows. To receive hurt. He knew how to handle it.

Withdrawal. It was the only way.

‘I’m sorry for wasting your time, Miss Copeland,’ he told her and his voice was now strictly formal. Back to business. The shield had been put up again and it wasn’t about to be lightly put aside. ‘But it seems the fault’s not entirely mine. You’ve obviously chosen an extremely unreliable realtor to represent you.’

‘You can say that again.’ That was Roger Francis. He eyed his employer sideways. ‘If you want a place that’s just for yourself, then the Blue Mountain property is far superior,’ he said smoothly. ‘You know it appealed enormously before you heard about this place. It’s only an hour’s drive from Sydney. I spoke to the owners only yesterday and your option’s still valid.’

‘I bet it is.’

‘I’d be happy to show it to you again. We could take the chopper right now. I could organise someone to fetch my car-’

‘Enough.’ Jackson spread his hands and stepped back. ‘Enough. I need time to think.’

‘I have the Blue Mountain brochure in my briefcase,’ Roger said smoothly. ‘Shall I tell the helicopter pilot you’d like to leave?’

‘No. Yes!’

And then he paused.

There was the sound of a vehicle approaching from the main track. It was being driven far too fast, and by the sound of the engine the car had seen far too many days to be travelling at this speed.

All eyes were drawn to the French windows as a battered and dusty sedan drew to a halt in a screech of brakes and a cloud of dust.

Out tumbled Molly. Closely followed by Angela and Guy and Sam.

‘Are we too late? Has he gone?’

Molly burst into the room with her arms full of documents. Then, as she saw Jackson, she stopped dead.

He took one step towards her. She dropped the documents from nerveless fingers. They scattered over the floor and in less than a second she was being held in his arms-as if she’d never be released again.

After that there was chaos. Angela and Guy and Sam were all crowding into the door behind Molly. Sam was clutching his frog box as if his life depended on it. But his attention-all attention-was on Molly. Who was sobbing her heart out on Jackson’s shoulder.

‘What the…?’

It was all Jackson had to say.

‘I never thought he’d do it.’ Molly was talking through tears into the soft linen of his shirt and he had to stoop to hear. ‘I thought he was just playing games, so I figured I’d go along with it to see what he was up to. I didn’t think it’d get serious. And then he got really nasty and tried to hold me back and I had to fight him…’

‘Whoa!’ He held her at arm’s length at that. There was an angry bruise spreading from under her eye to her chin. She looked dishevelled and tearful and angry-and altogether far, far too lovely. ‘Slow down. What happened?’

‘It was Michael,’ Angela burst out from behind them. She pointed to the hapless Roger Francis. ‘And this…this weed.’

All attention swung to Roger Francis. Who looked suddenly pallid. And smaller somehow.

‘What-?’

But Angela was mid-tirade, accepting no interruptions. ‘He rang Molly and said Michael wanted a reconciliation-but Molly didn’t believe it for a minute. So then she wondered-why was he so pushy? And why was Michael so pushy as well? Then she figured, Hang on, they’re practically the same age, and how many law schools are there in this state? So she did a search-and guess what? She discovered Roger and Michael were in the same year at the same university studying the same subjects.’

‘Which doesn’t mean anything,’ Roger said, but he was edging towards the door.

Molly had recovered enough to take over. ‘And then Michael arrived and he was so nice.’ Her voice was faltering but she was managing to put in her bit. Something about the way Jackson’s arms were holding her was feeding her strength by the minute. ‘I smelled the biggest rat. But he plied me with dinners and he gave Sam gifts.’

‘Nothing as cool as the froghouse,’ Sam volunteered, and Molly managed a smile.

‘No. Silly, over-the-top presents. And the more Michael schmoozed up to us the more suspicious I got. And then he practically insisted he bring me down here today.’

‘And he’s got a nice car, and Molly hasn’t got a car at all, and she didn’t want to ask for a ride in your helicopter. Which I thought was stupid,’ Sam said scornfully. ‘You would have brought us-wouldn’t you Mr Baird?’

‘Yes,’ he said promptly, and his hands tightened on Molly’s waist. She looked up at his face with an expression that said she couldn’t quite believe what was happening.

Where was Cara? she thought frantically.

Concentrate on the story. Not on the body against hers. Not on the eyes looking down at her, full of concern…

Only she knew the sheer effort of will it took to continue. To stop herself sinking into his embrace as if she’d never let go. But they were all still confused and she had to explain. Somehow.

‘I didn’t have a clue what was happening, but I talked it over with Angela and we decided the only thing to do was go along with him. So we duplicated the contracts and-’

‘You duplicated the contracts?’ Roger Francis’s face was reflecting pure shock.

‘Of course. I’m not stupid. So Angela had the duplicate papers ready with instructions to get them down here today if anything happened, no matter what. We even had Guy and his car on standby. Though…’ She gave a rueful smile. ‘We hadn’t quite counted on Guy trading his sedan for honeymoon tickets and a car older than he is. No matter.’ She hauled herself back to the matter in hand. ‘Then Michael arrived.’

‘And instead of bringing us here Michael took us to the airport,’ Sam said, incensed. ‘He said he was taking us on a holiday to Hayman Island.’

‘It was the whole sweeping-me-off-my-feet routine,’ Molly said grimly, and turned within the circle of Jackson’s arms to stare at Roger Francis. ‘You must think I’m really, really dumb.’

‘Some girls would have accepted,’ Angela said blithely. She and Guy had moved as one to block the door, leaving the hapless Roger no escape. ‘Michael’s a good-looking man and he was offering the holiday of a lifetime. And marriage…’

‘As if I’d believe him.’

‘He thought you were still in love with him.’

‘How could I be in love with him when I…?’ She faltered, and Jackson’s arm tightened even further. The gesture had stopped being a gesture of comfort. It was a gesture of pure joy.

But Jackson was looking at her face and, joy or not, his expression was grim. ‘So what happened?’

‘So when he turned off the highway into the airport I told him he had to be joking. And he said don’t be a little fool. He said…’ She paused and then met Roger Francis’s look head-on. There was hatred coming from him. Blinding, unadulterated hatred. ‘He said we stood to make heaps from the commission on the Blue Mountain property. He said Roger was a part-owner. He was set to make a mint if the sale to you went ahead, and if that happened then we’d get a cut. He said before you saw this place you’d almost bought the other property and if this sale fell through-which it would if I messed them around and made both you and Hannah angry-then we’d all be laughing.’

‘You’d be laughing? Married to Michael in Hayman Island?’

‘I’m not completely daft.’ She took a deep breath. ‘He couldn’t even get that right. He flashed the tickets at me as if that’d make it just great-but they were singles! He didn’t even think I’d read the fine print-just blindly take him on trust. As if! He had every intention of taking Sam and me to Hayman Island and dumping us there.’

‘You’re kidding!’

‘By this time we were in the airport car park. And I told him where he could put his tickets. When he told me not to be stupid, I grabbed Sam and started to leave. Then he took the contracts and tore them up. And he hit me.’

She’d been hit!

Jackson turned her then, twisting her in his hold so he could examine the bright angry bruise. And he uttered an expletive that made Molly catch her breath.

‘Yes,’ she said, but she wasn’t upset by the bruise. The tone in her voice was one of satisfaction. ‘But it did achieve one useful purpose.’

‘Which was?’

‘You don’t think I’d let him hit me and get away with it, do you? Do you have any idea how much security there is at airports these days?’

‘Well-’

‘I screamed,’ Molly carried on, considering his answer inconsequential. ‘There were loads of people about, and I screamed the place down. My nose started to bleed, which was terrific. It’s wonderful what a bit of blood can do for a drama. And then Sam head-butted him. He went to slap Sam and suddenly there were four hefty security guards holding him down and any number of witnesses. Plus a security camera. We’ve had him arrested.’

Her voice was suddenly almost joyous. ‘He’s in jail right now. Sure, he’ll get bail, but I have heaps of witnesses, and the police say if I press charges I’ll certainly get a conviction. Plus damages.’ Her hand touched her cheek. ‘For any amount of emotional trauma.’

‘You’re not emotionally traumatised at all,’ Jackson said on a note of discovery, and she chuckled and, just naturally, her arms came around and hugged him back.

‘No. I’m just very, very pleased that finally Michael has blotted his too-perfect copybook. There’s a whole bunch of stuff a lawyer can’t do once he has a conviction, and I can’t wait to get it in place.’ Then she lifted her chin and stared at Roger. ‘So Guy and Angela brought us down here-ventre à terre, as the saying goes-which was very exciting, wasn’t it, Sam? And now… I don’t know how we’ll deal with you, Roger, but Guy seems to think it’s illegal to try to sell your client something without disclosing ownership. We might just get you, too.’

And Roger was stuttering. ‘I don’t… I haven’t… The girl’s…’

‘Get out,’ Jackson said grimly. He was staring at Roger as if he was some sort of pond scum. ‘Get out!’

‘I never-’

‘You organised your thug to hurt Molly!’

And that was the nub of the matter. Everything else-the lies-the deception-they were things that would make him angry, but not to the point of white-hot fury. He looked down at Molly’s face and he wanted to kill someone. The problem was there was only this weaselly little man in front of him to be killed.

But there were better ways of punishing than murder. So, with what seemed an almost supernatural effort, he stopped himself from picking Roger Francis up by the shoulders and heaving him through the French windows and made his voice cool, controlled and icy calm.

‘Get out, Francis.’

‘I can explain. She’s mistaken. For heaven’s sake…’

‘You told me Molly was leaving for Hayman Island. You told me you spoke to her. There’s no explanation other than that you were acting in collusion. Miss Copeland…’ He turned to Hannah. ‘Will you be willing to back me up as witness?’

‘I surely would.’ Hannah was staring at Francis as if he was some particularly repugnant insect. ‘I’d be delighted. Hanging’s too good for the likes of him.’

‘It might not come to that, but what will happen will be effective for all that. I’ll see you in court, Francis. Now get out.’

‘But-’

‘Now!’

For a minute after the lawyer left there was silence. They listened as he gunned his car into action and headed off down the track, and they waited until the sounds of his car died to silence. Then Molly made to pull herself away from Jackson’s arms, but was promptly pulled back again.

‘Where do you think you’re going?’

‘I…um.’ She thought about it and came to a fast decision. ‘Nowhere?’

‘Dead right. Nowhere.’

She liked masterful men, she decided happily. Okay, Michael had been masterful-‘Here are tickets to Hayman Island and you’re coming with me!’-but there was masterful and masterful.

This masterful was just plain wonderful.

‘Thank you for bringing her down.’ Jackson was speaking to Angela and Guy, but Molly was absorbing the soft texture of his shirt. Nice. And the feel of his heartbeat. Nicer still.

‘Think nothing of it.’ Guy waved an airy hand. ‘The fact that my car blew a gasket or six and Angela and I missed a perfectly good day in bed-’

‘Guy!’ Angela gasped, but Guy only grinned. ‘Well, we did.’

‘I’ll give you a decent car for a wedding present,’ Jackson told them, and Angela rolled her eyes.

‘Wow. That’ll look good beside the casseroles and toasters.’

But Molly had hauled back, stunned. ‘Jackson Baird, do you think you can just splash your money about in that obscene-?’

‘Hey, who’s complaining?’ Angela interrupted. ‘Let him splash all he wants.’ Her eyes were brimming with laughter. ‘What about putting diamonds on the shopping list while you’re at it?’

Molly caught her breath. ‘Angie-’

‘Don’t tell me. You were about to say shut up.’ She held her hands up in laughing protest. ‘Okay. I know when I’m butting into something that doesn’t concern me.’ Angela looked down at Sam. ‘Sam, the Lionels have been in that box for far too long.’

‘They have,’ Sam agreed.

‘Then let’s show them to their new home.’ She took Guy’s hand and Sam’s hand and smiled at Hannah. ‘How about it, Miss Copeland? Would you like to see a frog launch and leave these two alone?’

‘I’d be delighted,’ Hannah said, and tossed aside her walking stick. ‘If what I think is about to happen is about to happen then I’m about to sell my farm. And if I’m selling this place then I want to leave a healthy frog population behind. Lead on, young Sam.’

‘Hey, I’d like to see the frog launch too,’ Molly said, stung.

‘You want to see a frog launch or you want to spend a bit more time right where you are?’ Angie demanded. ‘Choose now. Frog or prince? What’ll it be?’

And there was only one decision to make after all.

‘Prince, please,’ Molly said, and sealed her fate right there.

Then, finally, they were alone. Together. Standing locked in each other’s arms. So much had to be said, but now wasn’t the time for its saying. There was only time for each other. The feel of each other’s bodies. Two hearts beating as one.

It was a joining without words. It was a feeling of such blessed peace-of rightness-of joy-that Molly could scarcely take it in.

Jackson was holding her to him as if he would never let her go. His hands were softly stroking the small of her back. Her aching face was leaning against his shoulder and his fingers came up to trace it through the tumble of her bright curls.

This was right.

This was for ever.

‘Where’s Cara?’ Molly whispered at some point, but it no longer mattered. Cara no longer mattered. What true love had joined let no man put asunder-and true love had joined this pair as truly as any wedding vow.

He thought about that for a while. ‘Cara and I decided living together at the farm would be crazy.’

She pulled away from him then, wanting to see his face. Wanting to understand. ‘Why?’

He smiled down at her with an expression on his face that made her heart do handsprings. Oh, the joy of it. The pure, blessed joy.

‘I’ve been a fool.’

‘I don’t believe you.’

‘Then you wouldn’t believe wrong. Molly…’ He took her hands in his and searched for the words to explain something that he was only starting to understand now. ‘Molly, I had the pits of a childhood. The only way I could be at peace was to institutionalise myself. Nannies. Boarding school. University and corporate life. Those things followed rules that I could understand. They made me safe. So I tried to organise my personal life along the same lines. Cara is my half-sister. She lived the same bitter life as I did, with the same results whenever we showed emotional need. So when life got too tough-well, we were all we had.’

‘Cara is your…half-sister?’ Molly drew back, stunned.

‘Yes. And until now Cara and I have been living under the same rule. Which is self-protection at all costs. I tried to move outside the rules once and it was a disaster.’ He moved his lips in her hair and sighed, a great sigh. The sigh of a man reaching home. ‘I thought I loved someone. She wanted me only for my money. I was young and stupid-but it made me distrust for life. Only then I hadn’t met you. A man can be a fool…’

She could scarcely believe what she was hearing. Please…

It was a desperate little prayer, starting deep in her heart, but by the feel of his hands holding her close-by the feel of his heartbeat under hers-it had already been answered. ‘But now?’

There was a kookaburra laughing outside, its raucous cackle making a mockery of the two lovers. But they didn’t care. It could just as well be a nightingale, Molly thought, and found she wanted to pinch herself to wake up. She didn’t need to. He was real and he was hers, and his next words confirmed it. ‘But now Cara’s met her Raoul. And…’

‘And?’ The whole world was holding its breath. Well, maybe not the whole world. There was one stupid kookaburra-but surely he didn’t count.

‘And now I’ve met my Molly. My love. My wonderful brave, funny, loyal, tender, wonderful Molly, and now I realise that I didn’t know what the hell I was running from. I thought I was running from love, but until I met you I didn’t know what love was. We’ve spent three weeks apart and every moment I’ve missed you. I’ve ached for you. I’ve wanted you. Molly, I want you to be my wife. For now. For always. Will you marry me?’

Will you marry me?

The kookaburra was definitely a nightingale, Molly thought deliriously. She’d have it renamed by deed poll.

Would she marry him? Yes and yes and yes!

But there was one last thing. She had to say it, even though her entire future-her entire happiness-rested on it.

‘Jackson-wherever I go. I need to take Sam. I…he’s part of me. I must…’

But it seemed that Sam was no problem at all. ‘Of course he is. How could I expect otherwise? He’s the best kid, and I have such plans…’

‘You have such plans?’

‘We’ll move here.’ He put a finger on her lips and shushed her as she tried to speak. ‘No, listen. You wanted things not to change for Sam, so you moved to the city. But things have changed for Sam, like it or not. I reckon he could be gloriously happy right here. The local school has to be smaller and happier than the one he’s in now. He’ll be able to breed frogs. He’ll have his own pup and help breed cattle, and he’ll eat Mrs Gray’s pavlovas so he stops looking such a waif…’

‘Oh, stop.’ She was half-laughing, half-crying. ‘You make it sound so wonderful. You make me want to agree just for Sam.’

‘You think I’d blackmail you?’

‘No.’ She looked lovingly up into his eyes and then laughed and changed her mind. ‘Yes! If you want your own way, that is. You’ll do whatever it takes.’

‘I only want you.’

She held him still, their hands linked, forming a perfect circle of trust and of joy.

‘Really, Jackson?’

‘Really.’ He bent forward and kissed her ever so lightly on the mouth. A feather kiss. A kiss of promise. A kiss of joy to come.

‘And I’ve sorted it all out.’

‘You have been busy.’

‘It’s a long time, three weeks. A man does a lot of thinking-of hoping-in three weeks.’

‘So what have you decided?’ They were making love with their eyes.

‘I thought…I don’t have to travel so much. I can mostly work from here. We’d be proper farmers. But, if you like, you could set up an exclusive farm sales agency. Only the best…’

She was laughing. ‘Of course only the best.’

‘And in our spare time we could be farmers together.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah.’ His eyes caressed her, but there was still a hint of anxiety behind them. An anxiety she loved. He was her big handsome prince who could rule the world. But when it came to his love for her he was putty in her hands.

She loved him so much she could hardly speak. And in the end she didn’t have to. There was no need.

She placed her hands on either side of his face and she drew him down to her. Down to be kissed and kissed and kissed again. Kissed until they were both breathless with love and laughter, and with pure, unadulterated happiness.

And finally when they drew away-for an instant only-Molly found the voice to whisper, ‘We should go down to help release the frogs.’

‘You’ve released your frog,’ Jackson growled, and hauled her ruthlessly into his arms for yet another crushing kiss. ‘He’s your lover for life-and kiss all you like; he’s never going to be a frog again.’