Free Millie's Game Plan by Rosie Dean Page A

so, the heat from his fingers charging my circulation. ‘Excuse me, Millie, Sacha. Enjoy the rest of your afternoon.’
    I noticed he didn’t touch Sacha. Maybe she did too, because she said, ‘Thank you, your reverence,’ and then, would you believe, curtseyed? I suppose I should have been thankful she didn’t kneel down and kiss his ring.
    He had the good grace to laugh as he headed off outside. He had that effortless, fluid movement of someone who is at ease with himself. Unfortunately, I didn’t have long to contemplate his finer points as Sacha was leaning against me, her arm round my waist and her head on my shoulder. ‘Cutest vicar I’ve ever seen,’ she murmured. ‘D’you think he could be corrupted?’
    I really should have left her at the flat. ‘I’m not even going to try.’
    ‘You’re kidding,’ she murmured. ‘In that case, I think I might have a go.’
    I turned my head and looked at her – her spiky, black eyelashes fanning out symmetrically above her cheekbones, and I marvelled at what fine, unblemished skin she had, despite murderous shifts and a lousy diet. ‘You? What about Mediterranean Man?’
    ‘When did men start being rationed?’
    ‘You said you didn’t like the look of him.’
    ‘He’s suddenly got interesting.’
    I gazed out of the doorway and watched the players settling into their positions. Part of me was fuming because she was muscling in on my patch; another part was trying to work out if she might actually stand a chance, and yet another was wondering if I cared anyway. The long-term goal was to find my life’s partner – and Reverend Josh didn’t fit the profile.
    Sacha tilted her head and looked at me. I looked back. ‘What?’
    ‘Don’t worry. He only had eyes for you, anyway.’
    I shrugged. ‘Too bad,’ though my tummy was secretly dancing the fandango. ‘Come on, I haven’t finished my research project, yet.’ And with that, I hauled the camera bag over my shoulder. ‘Let’s take a walk round the boundary so I can get some more shots.’
    Sacha groaned but followed anyway. ‘Why don’t you take some more of me? I quite enjoyed all that posing.’
    There was a rustle behind us, someone was catching us up. I turned – cool but expectant. It was Arabella. ‘Do you mind if I see how you work?’
    ‘Sure – be my guest.’
    Working with an audience upped my game. I was composing my shots with more consideration. Of course, Sacha couldn’t bear being out of the limelight for too long, and had me posing her and Arabella against trees, along a bench and, the pièce de résistance, leaning against the glossy white bonnet of a 1960s Austin Healey sports car.
    ‘Hey! The sun.’ Sacha proclaimed as we were bathed in early evening sunshine. What’s more, it was there to stay, as the ceiling of clouds slid slowly away to the west and blue sky followed.
    I took some close-ups of Sacha and Arabella, cheek to cheek – Sacha all sharp and sexy, Arabella creamy and unblemished. Both, quite lovely.
    ‘Ooh, look. Here come da vicar.’ Sacha had no respect.
    I looked up to see Josh heading our way. Despite all my best intentions, he did look gorgeous and my insubordinate body reacted immediately, sending my pulse rate up and my mind into la-la land. Perhaps Sacha was onto something and I was as irresistible as I’d always hoped I’d be.
    ‘Having fun?’ he asked.
    ‘Loads,’ Sacha answered, batting her eyelashes. ‘Going somewhere?’ she asked, nodding towards the kit-bag he was carrying.
    ‘Sunday’s a work day for me.’
    I glanced at my watch – five-thirty. And there was me hoping he might be about to suggest a nice, long, cool drink in the village pub.
    Arabella twitched a little. ‘Hope you didn’t mind us leaning against your car.’
    He glanced down. ‘Not at all, thanks for polishing the bonnet.’
    ‘What?’ Sacha shrieked, twisting round to check her white denim backside for dust.
    Josh opened the car door and threw his bag in.