Luke's day started at six with a call about a server issue. He'd barely sorted that out before it was time for his conference call, which overran, and no sooner had he hung up from that, a young blonde admin assistant knocked on his office door.

"Luke, have you seen the Spires contract?"

Shouldn't that be his question?

"Try the filing tray."

Before Luke could pick up his coffee, a developer poked his head in. "Do you know when Mike's back from his holiday?"

"It'll be on his calendar."

And so it continued—a succession of simple queries that could easily be solved by the people asking them if they'd only think.

Why did Luke have to do everything around here?

Because he let his staff walk all over him, that was why. He reflected on his conversation with Ash about delegation. Would it really be that difficult? Maybe it was time to find out.

He picked up the phone to his PA. "Blanche, I need you to arrange a meeting."

As Luke made himself a coffee at lunchtime, whispers followed him across the open-plan office.

"The control freak's finally loosening his grip."

"Some people will need to start pulling their weight in this place."

"Is Luke ill? He looks a bit...different."

Was that really what they thought of him? A control freak? The looks of shock on the managers' faces when he'd started delegating tasks in the meeting earlier had been priceless. Yes, things would be changing in the office. But what did that woman mean, he looked different?

When he got back to his office, he peered at himself in the mirror he kept in his desk drawer. No, nothing out of the ordinary. Except, maybe.... He peered closer.... Shit! Was that a wrinkle? Dammit. Yes, adjustments to his lifestyle were definitely required.

At the end of the day, when he left on time for the first time in well, ever, it was with a tentative smile and no small amount of guilt. And when he arrived home in time for the opening credits of EastEnders, he didn't know what to do with himself. Should he start watching soap operas? Did Ash like that kind of program?

The time he'd spent with her over the weekend had made him see things differently. She'd had so many knocks over the past few months, but still she'd stayed positive. And here he was with a seemingly perfect life—more money than he could ever spend, a huge house, his own successful company, girls falling at his feet—and let's face it, he was miserable.

The steps taken today may have been small, but at least they were headed in the right direction. Closer to Hazelwood Farm and a certain new stable girl.

How long until the weekend? Four long, long days. Should he invite Ash over sooner? Maybe they could go out for dinner? Yesterday, his finance director had been raving about a London restaurant where every dish was colour-coded. Hideously expensive, no doubt, but Ash was worth it. Although for someone with so little money, she'd so far seemed strangely unaffected by his. Should he be pleased by that or worried?

She didn't obsess over looks either—not his or hers. Hell, he'd never met a woman who could take a shower in thirty minutes. One ex-girlfriend had refused to stay at his house at all until he had a bigger hot water tank installed—that was just one of many reasons she'd become an ex. But Ash? Even with no make-up, unfashionable glasses, and a shabby haircut, Luke had still needed a cold shower when she came downstairs in his T-shirt and boxers. Would the curves that outfit hinted at live up to their promise?

Luke fetched a beer from the fridge and went through to the den. With time on his hands, he picked up a pool cue. Did Ash play? If not, he'd teach her. Anything to see her cute ass bent over the pool table. His trousers tightened uncomfortably thinking about it. Should he call her? He wanted to call her?

He'd just potted a red when the front door slammed, and he flung the pool cue across the table then groaned. Only three people had a key—his housekeeper, his mother, and his sister. Nora had gone home for the day, and either of the other two was bad news.

For a moment, he considered escaping out the back door, but he'd left it too late. Tia walked in wearing a self-satisfied smirk.

"Why do you look so pleased?" he asked.

"The gold-digging bitch from the stables is finally gone."

"What are you talking about?"

"That crazy woman. I got her sacked." Tia's grin got wider, and she clapped her hands in glee.

"What crazy woman?"

"Ash, of course. How many other crazy women are there?

"Hold on. You got Ash sacked?"

"It was easier than I ever dreamed. I just told George I saw her walloping Samara, and the gullible old fool believed me."

Luke recalled his recent visit to the vet. The way Ash had stepped in to stop that teenager from hitting her horse, he couldn't imagine Ash hurting an animal herself.

"So you lied, and Ash lost her job?"

"Well, yeah. But something like that was bound to happen sooner or later. Everyone knows she's psycho. Arabella heard from Bethany at school that she got done for assault on her ex-husband. She might even have escaped from prison. Nobody's quite sure."

"You've got no idea what you're saying," Luke said, his chest tight.

"Yes, I do. You should be thanking me. I saw her here at the weekend, standing in the kitchen like she owned the place. She'd soon have stuck her claws into you and taken all your money."

"You saw her? I didn't even know you were here."

"Well, I didn't come in, obviously, not after I looked through the window. I didn't want to walk in on the two of you fucking."

"Tia! Mind your language. And that's not why she was here."

"Oh, please. I'm sixteen, not stupid." Tia's voice rose an octave. "She was wearing your underwear for goodness' sake."

Ouch.

"You don't know her. She's not interested in my money," Luke said, teeth gritted.

More than ever before, he felt the urge to throttle his sister.

"Of course she is. She works on a farm. She earns less in a week than I spend on manicures."

"So? That doesn't make her a bad person. Wait a second—how much do you spend on manicures?"

"I'm not going to a cheap place. The polish chips too easily, and it's a false economy. Anyway, Ash is a nasty cow. She even told you I'd been taking drugs. Then you told school, and I got called in to see the counsellor. Do you realise how embarrassing that was?"

Luke resisted the urge to cover his ears. Tia's voice was so high, he half expected the neighbourhood's dogs to come running.

"Well you had been taking drugs, hadn't you?"

"That's not the point." Tia came back with impeccable women's logic.

Luke knew he'd never win that argument, and he wasn't going to waste time trying. No, he had something more important to do: find Ash.

He turned his back on his sister and tried calling. Voicemail. Bloody voicemail. He cursed under his breath before the beep.

"It's Luke. Can you call me? Urgently?" He rattled off his number again, just in case, then grabbed his car keys. He'd deal with his sister later.

The Porsche slewed to a halt in front of Ash's place, leaving a line of black rubber. Luke leapt out and hammered on the door. Nothing. The trailer was in darkness, and nothing stirred inside Dammit! She'd left already.

Next door, the curtain twitched. By the time Susie answered his hasty knock, she'd had time to cover herself in perfume and put on some lipstick. The cloud of scent that wafted out made Luke cough.

"Luke, what a nice surprise! Would you like a cappuccino?" She twirled her hair around one finger and stuck out her chest.

Couldn't a girl have a normal conversation with him, just for once?

"Save it, Susie. I need to find Ash. Do you know where she went?"

Susie's face fell, and now he felt guilty. He'd get Blanche to send a box of chocolates or something.

"I've got no idea. George sacked her over some ridiculous story about hitting a horse, but I don't know what happened after that."

"Does she have any friends around here?"

"No, I don't think so. She stayed with Carol in Melrose for a while, but she seemed glad to get out of there. She reckoned Carol bugged her room." Susie paused, still twirling. "She can't drive, so she must have walked or gone by public transport. Cabs are pricey, and George pays a pittance. Maybe the bus? Or a train? That would be faster."

"Thanks."

Luke turned on his tail and headed back to his car, ignoring Susie's cry behind him.

"Luke? Why do you care, anyway?"

He broke most of the speed limits on his way to the train station, praying Susie had guessed right. With the car park packed, he abandoned his Porsche in a no-parking zone right outside the entrance and ran inside.

The two platforms offered Ash two chances to leave. He paused to scan them, trying to pick out a pretty brunette among the groups of Christmas shoppers lugging their bags.

Movement at the far end of the northern platform caught his eye. He could spot Ash's arse anywhere, and there it was, climbing onto a train. He sprinted down the platform and ran into the same carriage. A woman tutted as he jostled her, but Luke didn't care because he'd spotted Ash at the far end, sliding into a seat.

When he skidded to a stop in front of her, her eyes widened.

"You're leaving? Without telling me?" he spluttered, trying to catch his breath. Way to go, Luke. He'd wanted to impress her with his suaveness, but what came out was more desperation.

"What good would that have done?" She didn't smile. "Would you have tried to talk me out of it?"

"Of course I would."

"Why? Everyone in the village reckons I'm only one step down from being an axe murderer. It would hardly do your reputation any good to be seen with me."

"You think I give a fuck about my reputation? Look, I like you. I mean, I really like you. I want to get to know you, and I can't do that if you run off, can I?"

Luke had wanted to tell her that on Saturday. Being honest, he'd wanted to do more than tell her, but Norovirus had thrown up on that plan.

Ash didn't speak. Not in words, and not with her eyes. Her face was a blank mask as the guard on the platform whistled the one-minute signal.

Luke tried again. "Please stay, if only for tonight. Just to talk. Otherwise I'll have to go with you to..." Luke looked around. "Wherever the hell this train is going."

A lady sitting opposite spoke up with the husky voice of a forty-a-day smoker. "Better stay here, love. He's obviously sweet on you. What have you got to lose?" Turning to Luke, she added, "This train's going to Manchester, cutie."

Silence descended on the carriage. Luke wasn't the only one waiting for Ash's answer, and she withered under the gaze of thirty travellers.

"Please, Ash?"

"Okay," she whispered.

A round of applause echoed as Luke slung Ash's bag over his shoulder and grabbed her hand. They made it onto the platform a second before the doors closed. As the red lights on the final carriage faded into the distance, he put his arm around her waist and guided her out to his Porsche.

"Come on, let's give the village something to gossip about."