‘For goodness’ sake,’ she muttered beneath her breath, ‘it’s probably just the postman.’
Forcing herself to relax, she moved down the hardwood hallway in her bare feet, Barney eagerly following her. The day was already promising to be particularly warm, and the sun that shone through the door’s decorated Victorian glass panes lit up the interior with the glare of a powerful spotlight.
Lifting her hand to shield her gaze, she squinted at the tall shadow behind the glass. Even though she didn’t have a clue who it was she knew it wasn’t the postman. Whoever it was, his straight, ominous stance suggested someone official. Lara’s stomach executed a nervous cartwheel. Please, God, not more bad news.
She opened the door warily. ‘Good morning.’
On the other side of the door stood a man with eyes so heartbreakingly blue that the sight of them made her catch her breath. Waves of disconcerting shock flooded her. Staring at the carved, high-cheekboned visage, with its cut-glass jaw and arresting dimple, Lara thought she was dreaming. To be confronted by the man that she’d thought never to see again, and so early in the morning, she found she was both lost for words and stunned right down to her marrow.
He was dressed in an exquisitely tailored dark suit with a dulled gold pinstripe, and the clearly custom-made clothing showed off her visitor’s athletic, broad-shouldered physique to perfection. He had always looked classy, even when he was a student. Some people were just born with that exclusive air about them and this man was one of them.
As the sexy, expensive cologne he wore wafted tantalisingly beneath her nose she wanted to pinch herself, just to make sure she wasn’t dreaming.
Her visitor proffered a tentative smile and she immediately sensed his uneasiness, as though for a disconcerting moment he wasn’t sure what the appropriate greeting was.
‘I was wondering if I might have a word with Mr or Mrs Bradley?’ he asked. ‘I’m a— I was a friend of theirs. I’m sorry I’m calling so early in the morning, but I’ve just got back from New York and I wanted to pay my respects to the family for their loss.’
Lara stared hard, her legs threatening to buckle beneath her. She was suddenly aware that Gabriel Devenish, her brother’s best friend at university, hadn’t recognised her.
Her initial reaction was to feel blessedly relieved, but that was quickly followed by a churning in her guts that made her fear she might faint.
The memory of Gabriel had haunted her for years.
He and Sean had studied for the same degree together. But while the big-hearted Sean had elected to go into charity work after graduating, Gabriel had followed in his rich uncle’s footsteps and gone into the more lucrative and some might say cut-throat world of high finance.
Her brother had once told her that he’d heard on the grapevine that his friend had made an absolute fortune since moving to New York, but he’d said it in a way that had implied he almost felt sorry for him.
In any case, from the very first moment that Lara had set eyes on Gabriel, on a blistering-hot summer’s day thirteen years ago, when she’d been just sixteen, she had developed the most massive crush on him. She might have been four years younger, and still at school, but that hadn’t tempered her feelings. And a foolish impulse that she had lived to regret had once driven her to confess them to him.
Her memory was transported back to that night when Sean had thrown an impromptu party for some friends at the house when their parents were away.
Seeking to bolster her courage, because Gabriel had been there, Lara had drunk a little too much wine and had consequently embarrassed herself. Dancing with him a few hours later when the party was in full swing, delighted by his flirtatious comments and what she’d imagined was an invitational smile, she’d reciprocated by shyly telling him how much she liked him...that she liked him a lot, in fact. Then, shutting her eyes, she had moved her face up to his for a kiss.
She still remembered the look of shock on his face and the sensation of hurt that had flooded her when he’d firmly but carefully moved her away, telling her that she was his friend’s little sister and that she’d read him wrong...he’d only been teasing her.
Lara practically remembered what he’d said to her word for word. He’d added, ‘I’m sure there are plenty of boys your own age who would love to go out with you, Lara, but I’m a little too old for you, I fear. Anyway, I have my sights set on that tall, slim blonde standing over there. She’s one of my tutors and has made no secret of the fact that she likes me.’
Even the false sense of courage that the alcohol had given her hadn’t been able to protect Lara from being devastated by Gabriel’s rejection.... Yes, devastated, and humiliated, too. Over and over again she’d speculated on the reasons why he’d spurned her. Had it really been just because she was younger than him and because she was Sean’s ‘little sister’? If you cared for a person—really cared—then what did it signify that there was a bit of an age difference?
Lara had been left with the conclusion that, apart from the bond of friendship that was between them because she was his best friend’s sister, Gabriel didn’t care for her at all. Even back then he’d set his sights on much more potentially lucrative opportunities—a prime example being the slim blonde tutor from his university.
Ever since that painful incident at the party Lara’s relationships with men had never seemed to progress much beyond friendship, even when she’d wished that they would. The trouble was she no longer trusted herself to read the correct signals as far as the opposite sex were concerned. Also, in spite of Gabriel’s rejection, she realised that she still harboured impossibly romantic feelings towards her brother’s friend. Had she turned him into a bit of a fantasy figure over the years? A fantasy that no other man could possibly hope to live up to?
He had definitely been a hard man to forget....
Lara’s throat was uncomfortably dry, but looking back at him now, she somehow managed to speak.
‘It’s Gabriel, isn’t it? Gabriel Devenish? You were my brother’s best friend when he was at university. I’m sorry but my parents aren’t here at the moment. They’ve gone away to the south of France for a break.’
Behind Lara, hating to be ignored, Barney started barking again. Glad of the momentary distraction in order to gather herself mentally, she instantly dropped down to her haunches to stroke his rough wheaten-coloured coat affectionately.
‘Hush, Barney, you don’t have to make such a fuss.’
‘You’re Lara? Sean’s little sister?’
Lifting her gaze, she fell into Gabriel’s mesmerising crystal-blue stare like a diver plunging straight into the sunlit Mediterranean.
With her heart slamming against her ribs, she nodded slowly. ‘That’s right. Though not so little any more, I’m afraid.’
Rising to her full height again—five feet seven of slim limbs and womanly curves in light blue denims and a fitted white shirt—she was nothing like the plump, awkward teenager she’d been when she was sixteen. It was no surprise that Gabriel hadn’t recognised her.
‘Well, I’ll be...’
He seemed to be genuinely shocked. Lara even detected a faint flush of heat in his chiselled countenance.
‘You have grown up. Look...’
Tunnelling his long fingers through his thick chestnut hair, he inadvertently drew her attention to his strong, indomitable brow—a brow that was etched with two deeply hewn furrows. It didn’t suggest he utilised that devastating smile of his very often these days. Whatever road life had taken him down it hadn’t all been plain sailing, she thought. He might be rich,