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‘Well, we’re from quite different backgrounds.’

‘Obviously.’ He grinned when she looked up sharply. ‘You’re a serious medic and I’m a chaotic artistic-type who somehow keeps buildings from falling down. Apart from one fairly memorable moment with an early barn conversion…’

‘What?’ She laughed. ‘No, I meant…’

‘I know what you meant. But what I don’t know is what you’re trying to say.’ He was scared that he did, but he’d never met anyone like her and – selfishly – desperately wanted to keep her in his life.

‘I’ve never dated anyone outside my culture before… and I was worried you might be a bit… pushier than I’m used to.’

‘Did you really think I would?’

‘I hoped you wouldn’t, but that’s not the same as being sure.’

‘You’ve had bad experiences in the past?’ He regretted the words as soon as he’d said them. ‘Sorry. That was intrusive.’

‘No, it’s not. It wasn’t me personally, but I’ve seen it with friends and a cousin, and it usually goes badly. The difference between cultures and expectations… It can be really big at times. Too big. And even when there’s cultural understanding and you think you’re on the same page…’ Amrita smiled sadly. ‘We’ve all got pasts that we have to try to learn from and not bring into our presents or futures.’

‘Whoever he was, he was an idiot.’

‘Thanks.’ This time her smile was a little less sad.

‘Did you think I’d be like that? Even though I told you that I wouldn’t push?’

‘I was concerned you might be, because sometimes saying something and doing it can be different things. But I’m glad you’re exactly who I hoped you’d be. Thank you.’

‘You’re welcome. Like I said, your pace. Some things are worth the wait.’ The words settled between them as a promise – weighty, comforting and patient. After a few moments he gently nudged her elbow with his. ‘Do you want to get going?’

She nodded. ‘It’s been a lovely evening, Jamie. But you really don’t need to drive me home. I’m happy to call a ride.’

‘If you’re telling me you don’t want me to, then I won’t. But I’m more than happy to run you home like we agreed. And I meant what I said: I’m not putting pressure on you. But, if it helps convince you, I really am enjoying your company.’

She wavered, her eyes flicking away before locking on his again. ‘Are you sure?’

‘I wouldn’t say it if I wasn’t.’

‘OK. Yes please. But only if you’re sure.’

‘I am. Come on.’

He held out his arm, expecting – hoping – she’d tuck her hand back against his elbow, but instead she looked at him. Neither moved for a few heartbeats, then – without breaking eye contact – she slid her hand gently into his. He froze, gritting his teeth as he fought the flare in his magic, then tightened his fingers around hers. Even through gloves, the heat and shape of her hand in his felt more right than anything he’d ever known.

* * *

Amrita was still laughing when Jamie parked outside her apartment block. ‘I just don’t believe you. No one can really be that stupid.’

‘Hand on my heart, they really were.’

‘Who buys an old rectory, spends months and a small fortune having it renovated and extended… and doesn’t realise that people still ring church bells?’

‘Urbanophiles who get their idea of country and small town living from TV programmes.’ He chuckled.

‘So, what happened? I have to know!’

‘It was a shame really, because they were so nice to work with, but they just did not understand small community life. Or rural living. They started complaining: to the vicar, the mayor, the council, the local newspaper… anyone who would listen. And they ended up alienating the community they’d moved into. Last I heard they were selling up and moving back to the city.’

‘Wow. Some people really don’t have the braincells they should have been born with.’

‘Nope.’