Reckless Runaway at the Racecourse

by Ros Clarke

  ‘Fliss,’ Luke said sternly.

  ‘Yes?’ she replied as innocently as she could manage.

  ‘When did you decide to come back home?’

  She squirmed uncomfortably in her seat. ‘Does it really matter?’

  He gave her a look that told her it did.

  ‘You were busy with the Derby preparations,’ she offered. ‘I didn’t want to be a distraction.’

  ‘Monday?’ he guessed.

  ‘Something like that.’ Fliss didn’t quite dare to meet Luke’s eye.

  ‘Sunday?’ he queried, in mounting outrage.

  ‘Maybe.’

  ‘I’ve been in agony without you all week and you just let me suffer?’ he thundered.

  ‘I had to go shopping,’ Fliss protested. ‘I needed new shoes!’

  Luke turned the car off, undid his seat belt and took Fliss firmly in his arms. ‘Next time,’ he told her fiercely, ‘the shoes can wait.’

  ‘Next time?’

  ‘Next time you get spooked and run away.’

  She shrugged. ‘Next time, you could try coming to find me.’

  Luke frowned. ‘Did you want me to?’

  ‘I hoped you might at least phone.’

  ‘I thought about it.’

  ‘Were you really in agony?’

  ‘Not nearly as much agony as you’ll be in if you don’t kiss me now.’

  Fliss decided this was one time she wasn’t going to put his threat to the test. She wound her arms around Luke’s neck and pulled him close.

  ‘I think I’ve done enough running away for now,’ she murmured between kisses. ‘Take me home instead.’

  ‘My pleasure.’