‘Of course.’ Layla’s lips were suddenly numb. ‘It’s Thursday, isn’t it?’
‘Go to the top of the class!’ Grinning, Marc wiped the back of his hand across his brow. As usual his dark hair was slightly awry and uncombed, his black T-shirt crumpled and unironed.
‘I ironed you a pile of clean T-shirts yesterday and left them on your bed,’ she told him, her gaze raking his clothing. ‘How come you’re wearing that one? It looks like you slept in it. Don’t you think you ought to change if you’re having a meeting with Drake?’
‘So it’s Drake now, is it? Clearly you’re on much more informal terms with him since your date, then? I had my doubts when I first saw you this morning—you looked like someone had died. That naturally led me to conclude that things hadn’t gone well … which is why I haven’t quizzed you about it.’
‘Never mind about that.’ Impatiently Layla glanced round at the clock on the wall behind her. ‘He’s going to be here in just under half an hour. You need to change out of that scruffy T-shirt and comb your hair and endeavour to look a bit more presentable. That’s if you want him to think you’re serious about the business?’
‘Of course I’m serious about it!’ Marc scowled. ‘Why do you think I don’t sleep at night? Because I like going round looking like death warmed up?’
‘I don’t doubt your commitment. I know how much you care about making the café a success. I’m just saying that having the opportunity to talk to Drake Ashton is a chance that doesn’t come along every day, so you need to make the most of it. Look … if you leave now you’ll have just about enough time to change. Even if you don’t feel confident, it’ll help you feel miles better if you put on a clean and ironed shirt and comb your hair.’
‘You’re right.’ Sighing, her brother planted a resounding kiss on her cheek. ‘If Ashton arrives before I’m back, make him a nice cup of coffee and give him a bun, will you? Thanks, sis.’
As soon as Marc had left Layla checked her hair and eyeliner in her make-up mirror and tried hard to still the nerves that seized her at the knowledge that Drake was arriving in just a few short minutes for the promised meeting with her brother. Would he even acknowledge her when he saw her? she fretted. He’d been like the proverbial ‘ice man’ when he’d dropped her off at the tube station last night, and he hadn’t made any attempt to ring her and clear the air.
Knowing she would be utterly miserable if she succumbed to her feelings of fear and doubt about how he might behave towards her, she swung round to the digital radio on the shelf behind her and turned it on. As a lively pop tune filled the air she determinedly busied herself making the area round the counter even more pristine and inviting than it was already.
Twenty minutes later, after another worrying lull in custom, the glass door at the entrance opened, bringing with it a strong blast of frosted air. A mellow September it was not. Already it felt more like the onset of winter. But right then Layla was hardly concerned about the unseasonal temperature. Not when the reason for the suddenly open door planted his tall, lithe physique in front of the counter and made her heart race with one of his compelling enigmatic smiles. Wearing a stylish chocolate-brown cashmere coat over a fine dark suit, the handsome architect looked good enough to eat. Her blood heated even before he opened his mouth to speak.
‘Remember me?’
‘Yes, I do. You’re the man who cold-shouldered me at the end of our date last night.’
Even as the words left her lips Layla cursed herself for yet again blurting out the wrong thing. How could she have forgotten so soon that she’d intended to apologise for upsetting him—not greet him with a frosty accusation?
Drake’s handsome brow creased a little, emphasising the two deep furrows there. ‘I’m sorry about what happened … I really am. But I’m beginning to realize, Layla, that you have the propensity to rub me up the wrong way. Anyway, I should have called you straight afterwards and made amends. I wish I had. I certainly didn’t want the evening to end the way it did.’
The regret in his voice was accompanied by a glance filled with such intense longing that Layla could hardly believe it was directed at her. It had the effect of making her limbs suddenly feel as though they’d been injected with a powerful muscle relaxant, and she put her hands out onto the counter to support herself.
‘I sometimes don’t think before I speak,’ she murmured, reddening, ‘and I wish I did. Whatever I said or did that upset you I’m genuinely sorry for it.’
He nodded. ‘Then let’s start again, shall we? I’m going to visit a couple of sites after I see your brother, and I’d like you to come with me. I think you’ll be interested in hearing what’s planned there. I’ll drop you back here at the café afterwards. We’ll be a couple of hours at most.’
‘I’d love to come with you, but I can’t take time off just like that.’
Glancing round at the two remaining customers in the vicinity, Drake’s grey eyes glinted with humour. ‘Because you’re madly busy? Don’t worry—I’ll clear it with your brother when I see him. Is he around?’
‘He’ll be here any minute now. He—he had to dash home for something. Can I get you a coffee while you’re waiting for him?’
‘That would be great. I’ll have a strong Americano.’
‘What about something to eat?’
The question seemed to put him in a trance. His hypnotised gaze suggested he’d suddenly been plunged into a compelling private world of his own—a dimension that utterly and completely absorbed him. The faraway look in his eyes inexplicably made Layla’s heart ache. It was a bit like when his absorption in his technical drawings had put her in mind of a schoolboy concentrating hard on his homework.
She couldn’t help frowning. ‘Drake?’
‘What?’ Raking his fingers through his hair, he gave a rueful smile. ‘I don’t want any food, thanks. I’ve had some breakfast this morning. A coffee will be just fine.’
As if he was discomfited by his zoning out, he turned away, clearly intending to make for a nearby table. Layla stopped him in his tracks.
‘Do you mind if I say something?’
Warily he turned back. ‘Go ahead.’
‘I’m not for one second telling you how to conduct your business, so please don’t take this the wrong way, but Marc is a little fragile at the moment. He needs … well, he needs to hear something good … something that will help give him some hope for the café’s future. I’m not asking you to completely sugar-coat your advice, because obviously he needs to hear the truth, but whatever you advise him … would you—could you please bear that in mind when you talk?’
Again he drove his fingers through his hair. Although his expression was thoughtful, he also seemed a little weary, she thought.
‘There’s no sugar-coating the pill in business, Layla,’ he said, ‘but whatever advice I give to your brother, you can rest assured it will be fair and considerate … helpful too I hope. Was that all?’
With a self-conscious nod she turned her attention back to the task of making his coffee …
It felt so good to have her near again. As he drove the Range-Rover through the winding roads skirting the town Drake stole several covetous glances at his passenger’s arrestingly beautiful profile and now and then couldn’t resist lowering his gaze to the long slender legs encased in snugly fitting black cord jeans. He breathed in her perfume. It could have been life-giving oxygen as far as he was concerned, and he felt almost high on it.
After countless hours of hardly being able to concentrate on anything at all but Layla—long hours made even worse by the sleepless night that inevitably followed