‘We can take my wagon.’

‘Your wagon backfires. Backfiring offends me. And I have no intention of being lost in these mountains for want of a little resolution on your part. Get in and drive.’

It was such a different driving experience that she felt…unreal.

The road up to Braeside was lovely. It followed the cliffs for a mile out of town, and the big car swept around the curves with a whine of delight. By the time the road veered inland, following the river, she had its measure, and was glorying in being in control of the most magnificent piece of machinery she’d ever seen.

‘Nice, huh?’ Guy said, five minutes into the drive, and she flashed him a guilty look. She’d been so absorbed in her driving that she’d almost forgotten he was there. Almost.

‘It’s fantastic.’

‘You get this wedding working for me and you can keep it.’

She almost crashed. She took a deep breath, straightened the wheel, and tried to remember where she was.

‘Don’t be ridiculous.’

‘I’m not being ridiculous. I’ll merely pay my friend out. It’s not like it’s a new car.’

‘It’s not like it’s a new car,’ she said, mocking. ‘No, thank you, Mr Carver. My salary is stipulated in the contract. I’ll take that, but that’s all. I’d be obliged to you for ever, and I’ve had obligations up to my neck. So leave it.’

He left it. There were another few moments of silence while Jenny negotiated a few more curves. It was so wonderful that she could almost block Guy out-and his preposterous offer.

‘Feels great, doesn’t it?’ he said, and she was forced to smile.

‘It’s magic.’

‘Yet you don’t want it?’

‘I couldn’t afford the trip to Sydney to get this serviced,’ she told him. ‘Much less the service itself. Leave it alone.’

‘I’m not used to having my gifts knocked back.’

‘Get used to it.’

‘Jenny…’

‘I’m not for sale, Guy,’ she said roughly. ‘And don’t interfere with my life. I intend to do these two weddings and then get out of your business for ever. You’ll go back to Manhattan and live your glamorous life, a thousand miles from mine-’