Holiday with a Stranger by Christy McKellen Page A

midday.’ His face was blank of emotion but she was pretty sure he was deliberately winding her up again.
    ‘Okay,’ she said, gripping her mug hard.
    She wasn’t sure why she was so cross with him. She almost felt as if he was abandoning her by going out, which was patently ridiculous. She was a grown-up who was perfectly capable of entertaining herself.
    Wasn’t she?
    The truth was she never had to do it at home, because she was either thinking about or totally engrossed in work. Being away from it left a big gap in her psyche.
    ‘Okay. Well, I’m making omelettes tonight, so we’re definitely going to need eggs from somewhere.’
    She put her mug down carefully on the table before she threw it at his smug head. ‘You don’t have to feed me, you know.’ Her teeth were beginning to hurt from being clamped together so hard.
    ‘It’s just as easy to make food for two people,’ he said, shrugging. ‘What are you going to have if you don’t eat with me?’
    That was a good point. There wasn’t exactly a lot of food in the house, and the meal he’d made last night had been delicious. She should consider it his fee for her agreeing to share the place; he wasn’t exactly the easiest housemate to live with and she should get some sort of recompense for it.
    ‘Want me to pick some up in town instead?’ he asked, obviously irked at her slow response.
    ‘No. It’s fine. I’ll go to the farm,’ she said through tight lips.
    ‘Great.’ He smiled and went to slap her on the arm, but stopped himself. Their gazes snagged and he gave her a curt nod. ‘Make sure you lock up properly when you go out. See you later.’
    He turned and walked out, pulling the door shut a little too hard behind him so that it slammed against the frame.
    * * *
    After taking a rather circuitous route to the farm a couple of hours later, Josie finally arrived hot and frustrated.
    The farmyard was deserted, so she knocked on the heavy oak door to the house. It was heaved open a few seconds later by a short, burly man with a thatch of wiry black hair.
    ‘Oui?’
    ‘Hello, Guy, I’m staying with Connor Preston in the farmhouse over there,’ Josie said in French. ‘I would like to buy some eggs from you.’
    The man gave her a slow up-and-down inspection.
    ‘Oui.’
    His gaze lingered on her breasts and she had to work hard not to cross her arms defensively in front of her.
    Great—a pervy farmer. Just what she needed.
    ‘Come to the runs with me. I need to collect them,’ he said, gesturing to the side of the house, where a collection of ramshackle barns and pens stood.
    She followed Guy at a distance and watched as he checked the nests for newly laid eggs.
    Walking back to her with a smile, he stood a little bit too close for comfort as he carefully put the eggs into the bag she’d brought with her. He smelt of dirt and cigarettes and wrongness . Wrinkling her nose, she forced herself to stand still. She often found herself turned off people because they didn’t smell right, and he was definitely one of those people.
    ‘Thanks.’ She took a polite step away from him and handed over a five-euro note.
    ‘You want some change?’ he said, making it sound more as if he was asking her if she wanted a good seeing-to.
    Her skin crawled at the thought.
    ‘No. Keep it,’ she said, backing away further and holding up a placatory hand.
    ‘How about a drink before you go?’ he asked.
    She was feeling really uncomfortable now. It wasn’t as if she’d never been indirectly propositioned, but she was acutely aware of how alone she was here. He was probably just being friendly, she told herself, but she didn’t want to hang around and find out. Her heart was firing like a piston in her chest and she felt dizzy and disorientated in the heat.
    ‘No, thank you. I have to get back. Connor’s waiting for me.’ Nerves made her tone snippy.
    Guy looked affronted by her rejection of his hospitality, but shrugged and turned and walked away,