If they knew he’d knocked her back-International Events Organiser Guy Carver Refuses Anna/Barret Wedding-the world’s press would say it served her right. They’d say she’d got what she deserved and the balance might well tip on the side of ridicule.

Which she didn’t deserve.

Damn, he didn’t get emotionally involved. He didn’t.

He was. Right up to his neck.

He thumped the desk with his fist, and a fluffy stuffed dog, endowed for some reason with a disembodied head, started nodding in furious agreement. He stared down at the stupid creature and came close to throwing it through the pink-tinged windows.

Jenny was outside the window.

Over the road was the beach. A group of teenagers were clustered by the side of the road, leaning on their surfboards and chatting to Jenny. She was laughing at something one of them said.

She looked…free.

‘Of course she looks free. You’ve just sacked her.’

Except he hadn’t. She’d walked out on him. The thought was astonishing.

Focus on this wedding. How long did he have? Ten days?

The idea was ridiculous. He went through his top people in his head, trying to figure who could come.

No one could come. Everyone held parties at Christmas. And every event he had in his mental diary was major. There’d be repercussions if he pulled anyone out.

For a wedding like this, at this short notice, he needed local people. He needed…Jenny.

She was climbing into an ancient Ford, a wagon that looked more battered than the decrepit vehicles the surfers were using. While he watched, she backed out of the parking spot, then headed right. Her wagon passed the teenagers and did a backfire that made everyone jump.