‘I’ll meet you at Mascot Airport tomorrow at nine,’ he told her, and she blinked.

‘Um…we’re flying?’

‘I’ll charter a helicopter.’

Oh, of course.

‘You’ll have a Section Thirty-Two prepared?’

A Section Thirty-Two… It would be a miracle if their lawyer could finalise the title and bill of sale by tonight, Molly thought, but Jackson Baird was expecting expertise to match his. ‘Of course,’ she told him.

‘The house is set up so we can stay?’

‘I believe there’s a skeleton staff.’ Trevor was fighting to stay in charge of a situation he had no control over. ‘Mrs Copeland did say they’d welcome you, but I-’

Jackson wasn’t in the mood for buts. ‘Then that’s fine.’

‘I’m not happy about Molly going,’ Trevor blurted out, and Jackson raised a mobile eyebrow.

‘Isn’t she competent?’

‘She’s extremely competent,’ Angela shot at him, and received a look of approval from the millionaire for her pains.

‘Maybe you’re worried about the propriety of the situation?’ Jackson’s smile eased all before him. ‘I should have thought of that. Miss Farr, if you’re concerned about the propriety of escorting me to an unknown farm for the weekend I suggest you bring a chaperon. But no middle men. No cousin. An aunt, perhaps? Especially if she’s another frog-lover?’

He was laughing at her, Molly thought, but she was too stunned to react. A chaperon. Where on earth would she find one of those overnight?

But Jackson had moved on. ‘That’s all, then. Mascot airport, nine tomorrow, with or without a chaperon.’ His eyes glinted suddenly with wicked laughter. ‘Is that enough to take your mind off your sore hand and your frog?’

He thought it was, Molly thought numbly. He thought he just had to say jump and she’d put everything else aside and purr with pleasurable anticipation. And maybe normally she would. But there was still Lionel. Sam had trusted her with his frog. How was she going to tell him what had happened?