Licence to Dream by Anna Jacobs Page A

cover of a book so as to catch a potential buyer's eye, showing at a glance what genre the story was and yet looking fresh and attractive.
    The money she earned by her art had been added to her savings, which were on target to give her a whole year off work in another three years' time. If she persevered. If she could get a year’s leave without pay and still keep her job, that was. So many ifs!
    She turned with a sigh to the papers on her desk. She had better check the figures and documentation for the coming meeting. Goodness, this Ben Elless had inherited a sackful of trouble! His uncle hadn’t kept proper accounts for years and everything was in a real tangle, with pieces of property scattered over several country towns, not to mention a few bundles of shares and several bank accounts with very little in them. Sorting things out had nearly driven her insane at times, but at least this sort of thing was more interesting than straightforward number crunching.
    The appointment was for half-past ten. By eleven o’clock the man had still not fronted up. Meriel walked through into reception. ‘I think I’ll get a bit of fresh air, Penny. My client hasn’t turned up and – ’
    ‘Elless?’
    ‘That’s the one.’
    ‘He’s just phoned to say he's been delayed and is on his way here. He wouldn't wait to be put through to you.’
    ‘Kind of him to let us know!’
    Penny grinned at her. ‘Having a bad hair day?’
    ‘Sort of. I've got my final examination this afternoon.’
    ‘Oh, sorry. I'd forgotten. Good luck!’
    Meriel went back to her office and got out the Elless file again, sitting waiting, unable to settle to anything else.
    Ten minutes later Penny rang through. ‘Your client has arrived.’
    ‘Tell him I can give him exactly half an hour.’ Meriel gathered up her papers and marched out to reception.
    Penny beckoned her over and said in a low voice, ‘I've put him in the interview room. He's as mad as fire about something, so watch your step.’ She went to throw open a door at the side, winking at Meriel. ‘Ms Ingram is here now, Mr Elless.’
    He was standing by the office window looking out at the traffic several stories below in St George's Terrace. His head was framed against the sunlight, which meant Meriel could only see him as a silhouette, and he was flexing his shoulders as if he was very tired indeed. When Meriel entered, he swung round and stared across at her, eyes narrowing in assessment. ‘Ms Ingram?’
    She nodded and walked across to the table, putting her papers down and gesturing to a chair. ‘I'm afraid I can only give you half an hour, Mr Elless. I have another appointment.’
    ‘Damn!’
    She deliberately didn’t look up from the papers, but continued arranging them in front of her.
    ‘Well, it's my own fault, so I suppose I can't complain. My last meeting ran on for too long. I’ll have to schedule another appointment with you next time I’m in the west. But we can make a start now, surely?’ He came over to the table.
    ‘Yes, of course.’ For the first time she could see his face clearly and what she saw took her breath away. He was quite simply the most handsome man she had ever met in her whole life, so handsome he seemed unreal. She wanted to reach for a pencil and start sketching. He’d make a wonderful hero on a book cover.
    Closer scrutiny revealed no obvious physical flaws. Dark brown wavy hair and bright blue eyes fringed in thick sooty lashes topped more than six feet of lean, muscular manhood. In a small room like this he was overwhelming both to the artist and the woman in her.
    Taking a slow, careful breath she picked up her pen and looked at him questioningly, forcing her mind back to his finances. His frown had disappeared and he was staring at her with an approving smile, as if he liked what he saw. She was used to that reaction from male clients and had learned to ignore it.
    ‘If you’re ready now, Mr Elless, perhaps you’d sit down? This is quite