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‘Oh, thank God! There’s Owen – bringing up the rear as usual!’ Harriet sighed and Millie saw the relief flood the young woman’s attractive features. ‘I thought he might have fallen off or something…’

Millie, Imogen and Harriet loitered at the red ribbon Greg had insisted they rigged up for the victor to drive through, whilst Carla crouched down onto her haunches next to the wooden post and levelled her camera lens, poised to snap a picture of the winner’s triumph.

‘Yay! Alex! You won!’ screeched Imogen, her chignon bouncing around her cheeks, as she rushed forward to hug her bridegroom-to-be before raising herself up onto her tiptoes to kiss him tenderly on the lips, her adoration lighting up her face. ‘Well done, Greg! You were awesome, too!’

Only a couple of seconds had separated Alex from his best man, but that was all that was needed. A wide grin split his face as he yanked off his safety helmet and strode over to offer Greg his palm in commiseration.

‘Great ride, Greg! That was a truly exhilarating experience. I might even be forced to reconsider my earlier criticism of the over-the-top schedule for my stag week. You’ve definitely delivered a fantastic programme of activities so far!’

‘Hey, Zach, well done to you, too – third place in this troop of ex-military competitors is a fantastic achievement!’ laughed Imogen, striding forward to give him a quick congratulatory peck on the cheek, sending a mischievous glance in Millie’s direction, clearly aware of the spark of electricity that flowed between them. ‘Ooops, sorry, Millie!’

Millie smiled at Imogen’s teasing, enjoying the sensation of being an integral part of the welcoming committee, not to mention the way Zach had raised his perfectly sculpted eyebrows and smirked at Imogen’s blatant assumption they were a couple.

Her thoughts spun back to the day she had met Zach Barker. Initially, they had irritated the skin off each other due to the fact they possessed character traits at opposite ends of the organisational spectrum. However, over the subsequent two weeks their tolerance of each other’s foibles had ballooned while they worked to achieve the impossible – getting a group of laid-back Caribbean workmen to pull out all the stops and complete the villa’s kitchen renovations in time for Imogen and her friends’ arrival.

Due to their constant squabbling, their friendship had surprised her, but her blossoming relationship with him had been responsible for papering over the cracks in her heart after her unceremonious abandonment only six months ago. With Zach’s help, she had succeeded in grappling with her sorrow, and had discarded the mantle of gloom she had habitually draped around her shoulders as some sort of protective battle armour after her break-up with Luke. Zach had called her out and she had risen to the challenge of putting the past behind her. She now woke each morning with a smile on her face, confident that she had a better-than-average chance that the struggle to bedtime would be devoid of melancholy.

‘Come on, Owen! Put some welly into it!’ called Greg, waving his arms in encouragement.

The whole crowd turned in unison to watch Owen, his face a curious shade of overworked putty, as he covered the final hundred yards to the finishing line. Harriet rushed forward to pick up the ribbon so he could drive through it like a conquering hero.

With only fifty yards to go, Owen raised his hand in a triumphant fist pump to acknowledge the group, but mainly to indicate to the First Assistant Director in charge of his personal horror show that he had succeeded. However, in that split second of distraction, he lost control of his quad bike. The handlebars swung to his left and he headed at speed towards Millie.

‘Agh! Millie, look out!’ screamed Imogen.

Millie found she was frozen to the spot as she watched on in terror whilst Owen and his rampaging quad bike bore down on her at speed. She screwed her eyes shut and prepared herself for the inevitable impact and the ensuing pain. Before she knew what was happening, she was flying through the air and landing with a thump in an adjacent ditch.

The shock of the collision hit her like a sledgehammer to the solar plexus. A dry retch escaped from her throat, yet there was none of the expected agony because she had experienced a surprisingly soft landing. With her eyes still firmly shut, she slowly explored each one of her senses in turn and found she was no worse for her unexpected brush with serious injury. However, when she opened her eyes and glanced down, she saw a pair of arms secured around her chest.

‘That was more painful than I thought it would be!’ Zach groaned in her ear as a waft of his familiar citrusy cologne invaded her nostrils. ‘Do you think you could climb off me so I can breathe again? I swear you’ve put on weight since the last time I rescued you from certain death. If you’re going to make a habit of this, the least you can do is cut down on the chocolate brownies!’

Millie was about to shoot back an equally caustic comment, but reconsidered when she remembered the position she was in.

‘Sorry, sorry. And, erm, thanks, Zach. For saving me.’

‘The best way you can thank me is by working on your tendency to cause turmoil wherever you go. A man can get seriously injured being around you. I think I need to call my broker and increase my life insurance cover.’

Zach uncoiled his arms from around her chest and turned to face her. His black tee-shirt was drenched from his brief dalliance at the bottom of the post-monsoon gulley and it clung to his torso, highlighting his taut stomach muscles, and his neatly gelled mahogany hair was dotted with dry leaves and blades of grass.

Even in his dishevelled state, he oozed brooding good looks and a delicious curl of attraction twisted through Millie’s veins. His lips were mere inches from hers, his breath tickling her earlobe, but she concluded that, sadly, it was probably not the right moment to indulge in a repeat performance of their previous kissing marathon.

Zach leaped to his feet and offered Millie his palm to pull her upright, his eyes dancing with mischief.

‘You could just come over and say hello? Maybe a peck on the cheek like Imogen opted for? But, oh no. Nothing so mundane for Amelia Harper where excitement and surprise are the buzzwords of the day.’

Millie was saved from delivering her rant of retaliation by the arrival of Imogen and Alex.

‘Oh my God! Millie, are you hurt?’

‘I’m fine…’

‘Whilst I, on the other hand, have suffered the indignity of being splattered from head-to-toe with Caribbean mud!’ smirked Zach, just about able to conceal his laughter at the comical situation he found himself in. ‘It’s just as well Ella’s already informed me how beneficial it is for a blemish-free complexion!’

‘Not that you need it!’ laughed Harriet, turning to survey Millie, the relief that all was well scrawled across her features. ‘Owen, why don’t you give them both a quick once over? Youarea doctor!’

‘Not anymore,’ he murmured before meeting Millie’s eyes. ‘Millie, Zach, I’m so, so sorry! Can you forgive me? It’s all my fault. I got over-confident. I should have known what would happen, what always happens whenever I…’

‘It’s okay, Owen. Don’t worry about it. We’re both fine. No harm done.’

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