Licence to Dream by Anna Jacobs

his surprise she was still standing on the veranda, hands on hips, staring in his direction.
    She was just as attractive when angry. He grinned again. And she had a way with words! ‘hire a set of muscles’ indeed! Was that all she thought he was?
    He was sure a single woman wouldn’t be interested in a property with this much land, most of it undeveloped bush. If she was house hunting, she’d be looking for an acre or two of land at most. He’d come back later to look round properly, though the land was more important to his plans than the house.
    He walked off through the bush to his four-wheel drive, trying to turn his thoughts to other matters.
    But they refused to turn.
    She was not only gorgeous, but feisty. He didn’t think he’d ever had such a prompt and decisive turn-down, though. He must be getting old, losing his touch – if he’d ever had a touch with women. He’d not been interested in another woman since Sandy.
    Until now.
    * * * *
    Meriel stood on the veranda and watched him stride off up the grassy slope as if he owned it. If he’d parked somewhere else on the block, he must have a four-wheel drive.
    But though she listened for a car engine starting, she heard nothing. In the end she decided she’d spent far too much time on Ben Elless and turned round to continue her exploration of the house and grounds.
    She couldn’t have left the garden plants to die in the hot spell that was coming, whether she was interested in the house or not, but she was interested, very. By the time she’d found a bucket and carried water to the semi-circle of wilting young trees on the other side of the big shed, the sprinkler needed moving again. ‘The place is far too big for one person,’ she told herself as she watched the arcs of water droplets sparkle in the sunlight.
    She shook her head ruefully. She was a fool. She’d fallen in love with it! There was something attractive and special about the green hollow behind the house, with the dam below it and the cluttered bush and scrub on the slope which rose beyond that.
    While the rest of the lawn was receiving a good soaking, she cleared an old plastic garden chair of spider webs and went to sit on it in the dappled green shade beneath one of the willow trees, thinking hard. Insects buzzed a counterpoint to her thoughts and the graceful fronds around her made a faint swishing noise as the hot breeze rippled through them. She felt as if she were sitting in the middle of an impressionist painting, all light and shade, and some of the shadows really did look purple.
    This would need careful planning. The asking price was higher than she wanted to pay and the house still needed finishing.
    After a while she locked up and got into her car, starting up the engine reluctantly, not wanting to disturb the peace and quiet. She’d better go and have a quick look at the rest of the properties on the estate agent’s list. If he found out how much she liked this one, that she hadn't gone to inspect the others, she would lose all her bargaining power.
    * * * *
    When she got back to Bill Lansome's office that afternoon, Meriel sat and discussed the properties she’d seen.
    ‘You know,’ he said after a while, ‘from what you’re telling me, Somerlee fits your criteria best. I don’t have a lot of properties that size, so you should give it serious consideration. We have some huge farms for sale sometimes, but they’d not be what you want. Why don’t you go and have another look at it?’
    ‘We-ell, it’s quite nice, but the house isn’t finished and I’m not into do-it-yourself.’ This was an outright lie, which gave her a brief twinge of conscience, then she reminded herself that he’d tell lies too, if they helped make a sale – or at least, he’d fudge the truth.
    ‘The main living areas need nothing doing to them.’
    ‘They’re unpainted and I don’t have the money to finish off the rest of the house properly.’ Another whopping falsehood.
    ‘But you