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“What? No, I’m fine. Just having my lunch and then back to work.”
“Where’s work?”
“John Lewis, makeup department.”
“Do you enjoy it?”
“The people are nice.”
“Which is always important.” He glanced upward at a heron making a low flyby. “So, what time do you finish?”
“Pardon?” She bit into her sandwich.
“What time do you finish work?”
“Why?”
He smiled again, and with his attention set directly on her, she felt a fizz of heat go up her spine. Her heart squeezed a little. If only Rishi had looked at her like this man did.
“So I can take you for a drink and a stroll,” he said. “When you finish.”
She huffed. “I don’t even know your name.”
“Ivor. What’s yours?”
“Nisha.”
“Beautiful name.” He still studied her intently. “So, can I?”
“You could, but there’d be no point.”
“What do you mean?”
She sighed and looked down at her sandwich, her appetite gone. “There’d be no point because we could go out, have a drink get to know each other, have fun, and then I’d have to tell you I’m getting married tomorrow.”
“You’re what!” His voice had switched to a low growl. “Married?”
She looked up startled. “I … I … er … yes, I’m gettingmarried.”
“Who? Who the hell are you marrying?” he snapped.
“Rishi Arran. An educated young man from a well-respected Pakistani family.”
“Rishi Arran.” He pulled his arm from the back of the bench and set both fists on his lap. He dragged in a deep breath. “And where is he now?”
“At work, I expect. He’s a junior lawyer at Rosser and Jones on the market square.”
“And you love this … this Rishi bloke?”
“Why?” She folded her arms, hugging herself. This stranger was rather forward with his questions. “Is that any of your business, Ivor?”
“I saved your life last night, that’s why.”
“Presumptive of you to think I should tell you everything about my life just because you saved it.”
“So do you?” he demanded.
“Love him?” She closed her eyes and shook her head, completely resigned to the fact she never would. “I hardly know him. Our parents have arranged the marriage.”
