Reluctant Bride

by Sam Crescent

  Cathy laughed. “And one that isn’t situated on that golden stretch of sand or offers you glimpses of amazing sunsets every night? Anyway, you’ve just eaten, so I know you’re not starving. You’re talking nonsense. Dune View is the most gorgeous house I’ve ever seen and I’m certain it’s worth every penny you paid for it.”

  Ultimately, Cathy was right. Dune View was gorgeous. In fact, it was breathtakingly beautiful. Deep in her heart, Amal had no misgivings at having bought the place on an impulse. She’d been searching websites for months. House hunting for something close to work. And then, when she’d almost given up hope, she had come across Dune View.

  The house was situated in a sleepy cluster of dwellings on the south coast of Wales near Ogmore-By-Sea. It overlooked a beach and the open waters of the Bristol Channel, and beyond, to the Atlantic Ocean.

  It was the ideal home, in the ideal location, and had been bought at an almost ideal price. It didn’t matter that her bank account was nearly empty.

  “You’re right,” Amal said. “It is worth every penny. But—”

  “I don’t know what you’re complaining about,” Cathy protested. “Like me, you are the head of your department. I would have thought you’d be earning enough so your wages could cover your mortgage. I mean, even though we work in different departments, I thought we had the same paygrade.”

  At twenty-five, Amal had worked her way up the corporate ladder, and although young, she was now a department head in a development laboratory. The company checked surgical equipment and protection materials, and Amal’s unit was responsible for providing the necessary permits and approvals needed. Before the kit could be released to specialist hospitals, everything had to meet certain standards, and if requirements weren’t met, then it was Amal’s head that would roll.

  Budgets and contracts reaching the million-pound mark came into her inbox. And it fell at her department’s door to make sure everything approved met rigorous safety standards before permission was given to hit the production button.

  “Come on.” Amal piled the used mugs and food plates onto a serving tray. “If we don’t get back to work, we won’t have a salary to moan about. Although, if the news headlines are anything to go by, I think it’s safe to say we’ll have a job for the next couple of months, at least.”

  “Oh, you mean because of the virus that’s heading our way?” Cathy asked.

  For several months, there had been a buzz in the checking units that almost bordered on panic.

  Amal’s department had been flooded with equipment and products to test. Anything from ventilators, masks, and gowns, to syringes and body bags, were examined and vetted. Rumor was rife that a pandemic was on the way. A virus had spread. It had taken hold in the Orient and was about to sweep the world.

  “Yes. It’s looking grim.” Amal was worried. “Especially in Italy. The numbers of people infected are beginning to rise. Occasionally, I catch snippets on the car radio when I’m driving to work, but to be honest, I couldn’t tell you the ins and outs of the problem. I’ve been too swamped with work to follow bulletins.”

  What Amal said wasn’t a lie, exactly. It was sort of the truth. She couldn’t tell Cathy the ins and outs of the problem because it would breach her contract. She knew more than she could reveal and was sworn to secrecy. And although Cathy was her best friend, Amal realized she had to keep silent.

  Cathy shuddered. “I must confess, I haven’t really kept abreast of the latest news headlines, either.”

  Planning to head back to their departments, Amal and Cathy made their way to the door of the staff room.

  “From what I can gather, there’s a virus and it affects the respiratory tract,” Amal said, and then the penny dropped. “Perhaps that’s why the government had sent us a batch of ventilators to be checked. Not just the equipment, but also the blueprints. They’ve never done that before. If they’re planning ahead…”

  “Are you saying you’re not in the loop?” Cathy raised her brows, astonished.

  Amal shook her head. “That sort of intel is above my paygrade. But it could be the reason why the pressure is on to get things done. I told you there had to be a reason why we were overloaded with work!”

  “But I thought you said you were getting help. Didn’t you say one of the designers was to join the team?”

  Amal put her hand on the door and pushed.

  “Someone’s on their way, but goodness knows when they’ll arrive. You know what designers are like … all dreams and no action.”

  And then, as she walked into the corridor, it was as if a wall hit her. Amal was pressed against the solid barrier of a man’s broad chest. In an attempt to stop her from falling, his arms clasped her tightly around her waist, and his lips were centimeters away from hers.

  She gasped, catching her breath from the impact.

  “Bon sang! Sorry, I didn’t see you coming.” His piercing blue eyes held concern as he gauged the damage he’d caused. “Are you all right, mademoiselle?”

  All right! After that collision, Amal doubted she would ever be all right again.

  This guy was sex on legs, and she was in his arms.

  A silver-haired fox… He was tall and handsome, and a lightning bolt of emotion raced through her body, hitting her deep within her core. Desire flared, and although he looked older than her usual type, she felt a quickening of her senses.

  It was that spontaneous sort of arousal people got when they saw something they desired … and she desired him. He was the crème pâtisserie in the shop window. Her mouth watered and her juices were flowing.

  “Yes, I’m fine. Thanks…” she said.

  She was dazed from her encounter. Never before had she felt such a fierce, instant response to someone she’d just met.

  Releasing her from the circle of his arms, the man reached out and brushed her cheek with a gentle caress, as if reassuring someone that any hurt he’d inflicted would soon mend. And then, with a kissing flick of his thumb across her parted lips, he put distance between them and was gone.

  As the door to the staff room swung closed, he disappeared from sight, leaving her speechless. And for some strange reason, she felt as if she had lost something precious.

  Cathy rolled her eyes, astonishment and lust written on her face. “Who the devil was that?”

  “I’ve no idea,” Amal replied. And then, beneath her breath, she said, “But I’m definitely willing to find out.”

  ****

  Before he realized what was happening, Lucas Martinez had been hit full-on. The brown-eyed spitfire had shot through the door and had been in his arms and gone, almost before he could register the fact.

  Perhaps he should have stayed longer and checked her over more thoroughly to make sure she hadn’t been hurt, but he was short on time. The sooner he met up with Charles Drake, the better it would be for everyone concerned.

  That morning, extra security checks at the airport had caused delays. His flight departure from Paris had been set back by two hours, and then the congested roads from Cardiff to Bridgend in a hired car had cost him yet another hour’s postponement.

  At forty-five, Lucas was a seasoned traveler. But in a modern world of supersonic travel, when a two-and-a-half-hour journey turned into an exhausting five-hour trip, he despaired for the future. The morning wasn’t yet over and already he longed for his bed.

  Somewhere in the test center, Charles was waiting, and it was now a question of finding where he was and meeting up.

  When reception staff had phoned through to Charles’s office, they’d been told Charles had gone to lunch. And then reception, thinking to be of assistance, had pointed Lucas in the direction of the lunchroom.

  Standing in the center of the room, with the jacket of his business suit casually opened and his hands thrust deep into his trouser pockets, Lucas looked around, searching the crowd for his friend. And then, he saw him. Charles was seated at a table near the window.

  The two men spotted one another, and havi
ng signaled to Charles to stay where he was, Lucas made his way across the room.

  “Lucas, I’m pleased you made it.” Charles stood, and when Lucas stepped forward, they shook hands. “I was beginning to think something had gone wrong and the French authorities weren’t allowing anyone to leave the country.”

  Lucas smiled, but it was more of a grimace. “No, it’s not as bad as that. We’re still permitted to travel, but I’m not sure for how much longer.”

  “When I got your text saying you’d landed but didn’t know how long it would be before you got to the lab, I decided to chance it and make a dash for lunch. I hope you don’t mind I wasn’t in the office waiting for you to arrive. I know how important this project is, but—”

  “And I know how full your day must be. If it’s anything like mine, you’re thankful to grab a bite and find somewhere to sleep whenever you get the chance.”

  Charles gestured toward a chair. “Are you going to join me? If you’ve not eaten, I can order a meal for you. Would you like something to eat before we get started?”

  Lucas shook his head. “Thanks for the offer, but no. I had a sandwich on the plane coming over. To be honest, I think the sooner we get working on the blueprints, the better it will be for everyone.”

  “Sounds good to me. Shall we go?”

  “Only if you’ve finished.” Lucas pointed to Charles’s half-eaten meal.

  “I’ve had enough. And anyway, my wife says I ought to be losing a few pounds.”

  “What? Has Jenny started complaining? That doesn’t sound like her.”

  “I’m still recovering from Christmas. Every now and then she prods my paunch and hints I’ve put on a few pounds. You know what women are like. Six months into a marriage and they go into management mode.”

  For a brief moment, there was an awkward silence as both men realized what had been said.

  Lucas shrugged. “It’s all right, Charles. I’m over the worst, but it never gets any easier.”

  “Sorry, Lucas. I genuinely forgot.”

  Two years ago, Lucas had lost his wife, Alena. A senseless car accident, bad weather, and a load of other stupid circumstances resulted in a horrid tragedy. Nothing could have been done to save her, but with her passing, his life had changed … and not for the better.

  “Come on,” Lucas said. “Let’s get to work on these ventilators or they won’t make it to the production line.”

  Individual laboratories with their own specialties were stationed throughout the building. The heavy stuff, where most of the testing was done, was spread out on the lower level. Research labs and administrative offices, where the bulk of the paperwork was dealt with, took place on the second floor.

  Charles led the way. “We’ll do a quick tour of the place so you can get your bearings, and when we’re done, we’ll go upstairs and I’ll introduce you to your team.”

  “What are they like to work with?”

  Charles smiled. “They’re not a bad bunch and can usually handle anything that’s hurled at them. It’s just that…” Charles’s smile turned to a serious frown.

  “Just?”

  “This month, the government has thrown five major projects our way, and they’ve all been classified as urgent.”

  Having donned a white lab coat and protective goggles, they walked through a testing room where a piece of equipment was pounding rhythmically on the coiled springs of several beds.

  “OHMS?” Lucas asked.

  “Yes. And the keypunch pad which adjusts the bed’s position and height has also to be checked. They are ICU beds with an attached thermal control panel. We’re still in the prototype stage, but Health and Social Care want them ready by next month, at the latest.”

  “Do we produce them on-site?”

  “We have a sister site in Swansea that’s responsible for production.”

  “And how many are we expected to manufacture?”

  “As I said, we’re working with prototypes. Until Amal Khan gives the go-ahead, the foot’s off the gas.”

  “But numbers? What are we looking at?” Lucas persisted. He needed to know the expected number of beds on order. The sooner he knew that, the faster he could estimate how many ventilators were required.

  “We’ve been told it’s a mass production job and to turn out as many as possible until there’s no longer a patient demand.”

  “Sounds ominous.” Lucas suppressed a shiver of dread.

  “It is,” Charles said. “No one has any idea what’s heading our way, but if we look to Europe and see what’s happening there…”

  Having shed their white lab coats and goggles, the two men, deep in thought, walked on in silence. Climbing the stairs to the second floor, they passed through a long glassed corridor and came to a door marked Immunology Dept.

  Charles swiped his pass card and the lock clicked, opening the glass door.

  “Remind me to give you your ID tag and key card,” Charles said. “You won’t be able to move around the building without them.”

  The room wasn’t a laboratory as such, although there was a microscope on one of the high Formica worktops. It was more of an office-come-workshop, with various bits of research equipment scattered about the place. Two women dressed in white coats were stooped over a desk, examining the contents of a folder.

  “Amal, Cathy, can I introduce you to Lucas Martinez?” Upon hearing Charles’s voice, the two women turned. “Lucas, this is Amal Khan and Cathy Prentice. Two team members, I wouldn’t be without. Cathy is head of our research department and Amal is the whiz kid of this development lab.”

  Staring at Lucas were the two women he’d met earlier outside the staff room.

  “We’ve already met,” Lucas explained. “Well, sort of met. It was more of a collision than a meeting.”

  One of the ladies stepped forward and held out her hand toward Lucas. It was the brown-eyed spitfire.

  “Hi, I’m Amal Khan. Pleased to meet you,” she said.

  She was tall and slender, and enchanting dimples appeared in her cheeks when she smiled. Lucas wasn’t often taken aback by a woman’s beauty, but this one was a stunner.

  “Lucas is the designer you’ve been waiting for,” Charles explained. “We’re here to help. So, what can we do for you?”

  Amal shook her head. “I doubt very much you can do anything for us, Charles. You don’t know one end of a test tube from the other.”

  Charles laughed. “True. But I do know the in and out columns on a budget sheet, and that’s all you need me for.”

  “Poor, Charles. Do we ill use you?” Cathy smiled.

  “Cathy Prentice, if you’re not careful, I’ll have you transferred to Swansea and you’ll be stuffing pillows instead of—”

  “Charles, your teasing never works on Cathy. If I were you, I’d give her a pay raise and be thankful you have her. No one can beat Cathy when it comes to researching materials. Feathered pillows included.”

  “What exactly is it that you two ladies do?” Lucas asked.

  Amal shrugged her shoulders and dug her hands into the pockets of her white laboratory coat. She looked behind her, almost as if she expected someone other than Lucas and Charles to be listening. “We have to see if the materials we’re using are virus-resistant,” she said. “Mask filters, ventilation valves, fabrics. You name it, we test it. We have to analyze and see if the material’s resistant. At the moment, our immunology department is the best place to do that. We’re working in the dark here. We don’t know what we are fighting.”

  Charles cleared his throat. “Amal, Lucas has top clearance. And as of now, so too does Cathy. You can tell them all you know without breaching your secrecy contract.”

  “On whose say so?” Amal asked.

  “They are my orders,” Lucas said. “I want all heads of staff to be kept abreast of what’s going on. We have to work together on this. And it’s best if we keep each other up to speed. No secrets.”

  Lucas could see the look of surprise, and then respect
appeared on Amal’s face. It was obvious she hadn’t expected him to take charge.

  “Now,” he said. “I’ll go and collect my laptop and papers from the car. If one of you could show me my office and where I’m to work, we’ll get started.”

  “I’ll help,” Cathy offered. “Do we need Charles for the heavy lifting?”

  “No … my laptop and a large pile of blueprints will do for now. I’m sure my suitcase ought to be all right in the car.”

  “Suitcase?” Charles asked. “You mean you haven’t found a place to stay?”

  “After work, I was going to drive into Bridgend and find a hotel. At least for now. I’ve no idea how long I’ll be expected to stay. Producing the patent and testing ventilators could take a couple of weeks, maybe longer. Anyway, accommodation is the least of my worries.”

  “It needn’t be a worry at all,” Cathy said, energized. “Amal has an ideal solution.”

  Amal looked puzzled. “I do?”

  “Yes.” Cathy grinned. “Only this afternoon, in the staff room, she put up an ad offering a room. She might be able to stretch it to room and board if you’re nice to her.”

  Lucas raised a brow. He knew Amal had been placed in an awkward position, and as ungentlemanly as it seemed, he was going to push for what he wanted.

  “Oh… I’ll be nice to her,” he promised. “In fact, very nice.”

  “Then that’s settled.” But those words hadn’t come from Amal.

  With obviously devious intention, it was Cathy who began arranging a live-in tenant for her friend.

  Chapter Two

  Night had fallen, and with the bright beams of the car’s headlights shining onto the tarmac, Amal drove along the narrow, twisting lanes of the coastal road and into the darkness. She was heading home, and somewhere behind her, sat at the wheel of his BMW rental, was Lucas.

  The occasional flash of car lights reflected in her driving mirror told her he was following close on her tail. And she could kick herself for what she was about to do.