Главная страница | Современные любовные романы | To Love Again

To Love Again
Carole Mortimer
Carole Mortimer is one of Mills & Boon’s best loved Modern Romance authors. With nearly 200 books published and a career spanning 35 years, Mills & Boon are thrilled to present her complete works available to download for the very first time! Rediscover old favourites - and find new ones! - in this fabulous collection…More than the girl next door…Christi has lived in the flat adjacent to gorgeous Lucas Kingsley for four years now. And she’s been in love with her handsome divorced neighbour ever since they met! Yet Lucas has only ever treated her with a brotherly affection. And unlike the sophisticated London beauties he dates, she can’t seem to get him to see her as a desirable woman…Until one evening she convinces him to demonstrate to her how a man should kiss. And when he complies, suddenly everything changes…!




To Love Again
Carole Mortimer


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

Table of Contents
Cover (#u4c37a8bb-252f-5535-abe3-b3b8e955060f)
Title Page (#udd5dad0c-a5de-5937-8ff4-41a010e78c2f)
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ONE (#uae810e65-cdcb-5b86-9b16-14829febe80c)
CHRISTI stared in horror at the man who took up most of the open doorway to her flat, holding her hands up defensively. ‘Whatever you do, don’t come in here!’ she warned fiercely.
To her chagrin he smiled, although he made no effort to come further into the room. ‘What are you doing on the floor?’ he drawled unconcernedly.
Christi came up off her hands and leant back on her knees. ‘I—oh, no!’ she groaned as a brown and grey bullet entered the room, finding herself almost knocked over as the tiny creature leapt up and down in front of her face, trying to lick her nose. ‘No, Henry.’ She desperately tried to still the movements of her excited Yorkshire terrier. ‘Henry—— Oh, damn!’ She gave in with a resigned groan, taking the dog into her arms to receive the ecstatic greeting.
‘He’s missed you.’ Lucas made the under-statement mockingly, grinning his amusement as Christi gave him a censorious frown.
‘I’ve only been gone a couple of days,’ she dismissed distractedly, her attention once again on the carpet in front of her now that Henry had calmed down enough to sit relatively still in her arms. ‘Take him, will you?’ She reached out to hold the dog up to Lucas. ‘But don’t come any closer,’ she warned as Lucas strode forcefully into the room, having let himself into the apartment with the key she had given him.
He gave a weary sigh, coming to an abrupt halt. ‘Make up your mind, Christi,’ he said drily. ‘Either I can come in, or I can’t. Is there a man in your bedroom? Is that it?’ He quirked dark brows interestedly.
Christi shot him a look that clearly told him the question was beneath contempt. ‘I happen to have lost a contact lens——’
‘Not again,’ Lucas groaned impatiently. ‘Last time you lost one of them it was down your——’
‘I know where it was,’ she put in hastily, blushing.
‘Well, have you looked down there this time?’ He looked speculatively at the creamy perfection of her cleavage, which was visible above the open neckline of her blouse. ‘I could always help you if you haven’t,’ he flirted easily.
That was the trouble with Lucas; he flirted with lazy ease, having a constant stream of women in his life, who seemed to remain his friend even after the relationship had ended. He and Christi seemed to have skipped the first part and gone straight on to the friendship, Lucas’s teasing of her just that. It was rather depressing to be thought of as just a ‘pal’ by a man like Lucas!
Everyone she had ever introduced him to had envied the fact that she actually had him living in the flat next door to her own. And that wasn’t so surprising, for Lucas was devastating to look at; tall and dark, with piercing grey eyes that could be dark with laughter or glittering silver with anger, his body of the type that looked beautifully elegant in the superbly tailored suits he wore, or obviously masculine in the shorts he wore when he played tennis. He possessed a sense of humour that enchanted, a honeyed charm that enthralled, and a raw sexuality that acted like a magnet to any woman in the vicinity.
But he was also thirty-seven to her almost twenty-two, and had taken her under his protective wing since she had moved into this flat almost four years ago, acting more like her uncle than her real uncle did! He had also helped her find her missing contact lenses more times than she cared to think about, had taken care of her pets when she’d been away, and had fed her lemon juice when she had been flat out in bed with a cold, doing a good impersonation of Rudolf! No wonder he had never looked on her as anything more than ‘the kid next door’—she was the kid next door!
‘Just take Henry, will you?’ She sighed her irritation. ‘I haven’t had the best of weekends, and if I can’t find my lens I won’t be able to go for that audition this afternoon.’
Lucas held the dog lightly in his arms as Christi resumed her search, her two Siamese cats entwining themselves about his long legs. He reached down to absently stroke Josephine and Gladys, straightening as Christi gave a triumphant cry, holding the truant lens as she scrambled to her feet to put it in before it did another disappearing act.
He frowned as she turned to face him. ‘I thought you were looking forward to spending the weekend with Dizzy and your uncle.’ He spoke slowly. ‘There’s nothing wrong with the baby, is there?’ he added, concern in his voice.
Christi’s expression instantly softened. ‘Laura is the most beautiful, contented——’
‘The baby is fine,’ Lucas drawled drily.
‘—little love I have ever seen,’ Christi finished proudly. ‘She has lovely golden curls—which is only to be expected when Dizzy and Uncle Zach—just Zach,’ she amended with a grimace. ‘He finally got around to telling me I can call him that, now that he’s been married to my best friend for almost a year,’ she derided. ‘But, with both of them being so fair, Laura was sure to be blonde herself,’ she completed her earlier statement.
Lucas looked pointedly at her ebony hair. ‘They can’t all be blondes in your family.’
‘The Bennetts are,’ she nodded. ‘You know I got my colouring from my mother.’ She experienced the usual sadness she felt whenever she thought of the wonderful parents she had lost four years ago, the two of them on an archaeological dig when it had capsized and buried them beneath tons of earth.
She hadn’t been quite eighteen at the time, and remembered that the birthday she had spent with her Uncle Zach had been a miserable time, both of them numbed by the accident that had left them the only two remaining members of their family. Her uncle had been distant from her then, a remote professor of history who seemed to live among his books. Falling in love with impetuous madcap Dizzy had changed all that, and when he wasn’t amused by his young wife’s antics he was bemused!
But, four years ago, Dizzy had been a long way from entering his life, and the two of them had found little to say to each other to ease the pain of their loss. Lucas had helped to ease her pain more than her uncle had, had held her as she’d cried bitter tears, had sat with her as she’d brooded in silence, had taken her out on picnics and walks when it seemed she would finally come out of the dark tunnel of depression her parents’ deaths had caused.
Their friendship had grown from those months of anger and pain shortly after she had moved in here; it was a friendship Christi knew she would find it hard to live without now, and she dreaded the day one of those women in his life became more than lover and then friend, sure that another woman wouldn’t welcome Lucas’s friendship with her into their married life.
She wasn’t conceited; as an actress she had been taught to evaluate her looks, to know her advantages and her limitations, and shoulder-length ebony hair, enormous sparkling blue eyes, straight nose, and widely curving mouth, tall and curving body, added up to quite a few advantages. No other woman was ever going to believe there was just friendship between herself and Lucas! She wasn’t sure she believed it herself, considering how sexually attractive he was, having had more than her own share of men in her life. But friends they were, and it was a relationship they were both comfortable with. Certainly neither of them was willing to risk what they had for what would probably amount to a few days or weeks of being lovers.
‘So what was wrong with your weekend?’
She frowned, concentrating with effort, her frown turning to a scowl as she thought over Lucas’s question. ‘Dizzy,’ she began in a barely controlled voice, ‘in her role as aunt and new mother, has decided that it’s time I settled down myself——’
‘What?’ Lucas said incredulously.
‘Oh, yes,’ Christi confirmed disgustedly. ‘Last year, Dizzy and Zach were worried because I didn’t go out with anyone for more than a month, and now they’re worried because I haven’t seen anyone for six months!’ She shook her head.
‘Hm, I wondered about that myself——’
‘Don’t you start,’ she warned, moving automatically to the kitchen to get her pets some breakfast as they all milled about her legs, Lucas having put Henry down long ago. ‘I’ve been concentrating on my career the last six months,’ she firmly informed Lucas as he came to lounge in the kitchen doorway.
He nodded. ‘Nevertheless, it’s been pretty quiet around here lately,’ he mocked.
Christi gave him a look that clearly told him she didn’t appreciate his humour. ‘It’s a pity the same can’t be said for next door,’ she returned waspishly, referring to the party he had held on the eve of her departure to the Lake District to visit her uncle and Dizzy.
‘Ouch!’ His eyes laughed at her. ‘I did ask you to join us,’ he reminded, not in the least perturbed by her complaint, knowing it wasn’t justified, for his parties were never of the ‘loud’ variety.
Her bad humour faded as quickly as it had come; she hadn’t really been angry. People who really knew her, and Lucas was one of them, knew that she was slow to anger. But when she did lose her temper it was best to take cover as soon as possible!
‘It sounded like fun,’ she conceded ruefully. ‘But I had an early start Friday morning and I didn’t want to be overtired.’ She gave a heavy sigh. ‘I wish now that I’d never gone! Oh, it was lovely seeing Laura for the first time, and I’m always pleased to spend time with Dizzy and Zach——’
‘But?’ Lucas prompted softly, taking out the cups to pour them both a cup of coffee from the pot, with the ease of familiarity.
‘Thanks,’ Christi accepted absently. She drew in a deep breath. ‘But,’ she sighed again, ‘Dizzy had invited three of what she called “eligible” men for the weekend, too, for me to look over!’ she concluded disgustedly.
Lucas just stared at her, his coffee-cup held unwaveringly in one slenderly masculine hand; for once, the articulate businessman, who could make a success of any company he chose to take over, was completely struck dumb.
Christi couldn’t blame him; she had been more than a little speechless herself when Dizzy had calmly introduced the three men as their other weekend guests!
If she had met those men under any other circumstances, she probably would have found each of them as interesting as Dizzy assured her they were, but as the only female guest among three attractive men it had been instantly obvious what Dizzy was up to. Much as she loved her best friend from childhood, she could cheerfully have strangled her when they had all sat down to lunch and she’d found her attention demanded by each man in turn. Dizzy’s intent was about as subtle as a sledge-hammer, and Christi had spent a very embarrassing three days trying to fend off three fascinatingly attractive men. Some would have said she was mad to even try. Most would have known she had failed miserably when she had returned from the traumatic weekend with separate dates to see each man again!
Dizzy had been completely unconcerned by Christi’s embarrassed protests about what she was up to, reminding Christi of a conversation they had once had about Christi advertising in a magazine for her ideal partner, sure she had as much chance of finding him that way as she did with any of the men she had dated so far. It had been a light-hearted conversation, made completely in fun on Christi’s side, but Dizzy had obviously taken it seriously. While her marriage to Zach, and his obvious disapproval of such a ridiculous idea as advertising in a magazine, had been a foregone conclusion, Dizzy had done the next best thing as far as she was concerned, picking three men out of her close acquaintance that she was sure Christi would like, inviting them all together for the weekend, and sitting back to watch the results. The result had been that, after months of not dating anyone, Christi now had three different men to see in the next week!
She grimaced as she saw Lucas was still staring at her. ‘You can close your mouth now,’ she taunted, feeling the first stirrings of amusement over a weekend which at best had been awkward, at worst downright uncomfortable!
He did so slowly, sitting on the side of one of the bar stools that sided her breakfast bar. ‘Dizzy seemed like a sane woman the one and only time I met her, when she married your uncle.’ He spoke dazedly.
Christi grinned. ‘You saw her on a good day, on her best behaviour.’
He shook his head. ‘Has no one ever told her that the custom of choosing a husband for a female relative went out of style years ago?’
Her smile widened. ‘Something as trivial as that isn’t likely to stop Dizzy once she makes her mind up to an idea,’ she dismissed ruefully, having years of experience to base her claim upon.
Lucas whistled softly through his teeth. ‘So, what are you going to do?’
Embarrassed colour darkened her magnolia cheeks. ‘I’m seeing Dick on Tuesday, Barry on Thursday, and David on Saturday,’ she revealed reluctantly.
His mouth twisted. ‘That’s certainly showing Dizzy that she can’t push you around!’
‘I was in an awkward position,’ Christi defended. ‘I’d like to have seen you come out of it any differently.’
‘My dear Christi,’ he drawled derisively, ‘no one pressures me into going out with someone I’d rather not.’
Her irritation increased, for she knew full well that a man like Lucas, who had remained single since his divorce several years ago, wouldn’t be forced into doing anything he didn’t want to do. But he was different from her, had a way of getting what he wanted, and away from what he didn’t want, without anyone challenging his right to do so. That arrogance seemed to be a part of his nature he, and other people, took for granted; she just didn’t have the same determination.
‘I actually liked Dick, Barry and David,’ she told him defensively.
He pulled a face, perfectly relaxed now that he was over his first surprise. ‘Dick, Barry, and David who?’ he drawled.
‘Dick Crosby—Dizzy’s agent,’ she supplied a little resentfully. ‘I’ve met him before, of course, since Dizzy began working as a freelance illustrator. Barry is Barry Robbins, a friend of my uncle’s from his university days, who apparently put his studies to use in directing films in Hollywood,’ she added challengingly as Lucas looked unimpressed.
‘I’ve heard of him,’ Lucas nodded dismissively.
‘Hm,’ she acknowledged irritably; the tall, blond-haired director was handsome enough to have appeared in his films rather than remaining behind the camera.
‘I think I met Dick Crosby, at least, at the wedding,’ Lucas remarked thoughtfully.
‘Possibly,’ she dismissed. ‘I believe Barry was unable to get here in time.’
Because it hadn’t seemed suitable to take a man to her uncle and Dizzy’s wedding that she probably wouldn’t see again a couple of weeks later, she had asked Lucas if he would accompany her instead. She had been thrilled when he’d accepted, proud to have had such an attractive man as her partner for the day.
‘Just think yourself lucky you weren’t one of the men chosen by Dizzy as suitable for me,’ she told him disgustedly.
Lucas’s mouth quirked. ‘I wasn’t “chosen” by her because I’m not suitable as far as you’re concerned.’ He tapped her playfully on the nose. ‘I’m far too old for you, even if I’m not quite old enough to be your father. I think I certainly qualify for the role of a much older brother,’ he added drily.
‘My uncle is fourteen years older than Dizzy,’ she defended.
‘And they’re obviously deliriously happy together,’ he nodded. ‘It’s always the ones who are happy who are trying to pair everyone else off,’ he explained at Christi’s questioning look. ‘But it isn’t very often these spring and autumn relationships work out.’
‘I think of Zach and Dizzy more as early summer and late spring,’ she protested. ‘I do know they’re the best thing that ever happened to each other,’ she added indulgently, never having seen Dizzy quite so confident of herself, nor her uncle quite so light-hearted, as they had been since they had fallen in love with each other.
‘You haven’t told me who the third man is yet,’ Lucas reminded softly.
Because she had been saving the best until last! ‘David Kendrick,’ she revealed a little triumphantly, knowing he had to be impressed by the last man. ‘Zach’s publisher.’
Dark brows rose appreciatively. ‘I know him quite well,’ he nodded slowly.
It didn’t surprise her in the least that David and Lucas should know each other; in fact, she remembered them talking briefly at the wedding last year, David acting as Zach’s best man. As businessmen, Lucas and David had a lot in common, both seeming to have the Midas touch, their interests diversified but, without exception, successful.
‘I have to agree with Dizzy about him,’ she said softly.
‘Why not Barry Robbins?’ Lucas shrugged. ‘You said he’s a film director, and you’re an actress, so maybe he’ll be able to help your career.’
Her mouth tightened. ‘I don’t believe it’s done that way any more!’
Lucas looked at her frowningly, then his mouth twitched with amusement as her meaning became clear, and finally he grinned openly. ‘I meant if you were his wife, of course,’ he said innocently.
‘Of course,’ she said sharply. ‘But isn’t that leaping into the future just a little?’ she derided. ‘I only have one date with the man. I certainly don’t need you matchmaking, too!’
‘Sorry,’ he grimaced. ‘I must try and remember that big brothers are for protecting you from big bad wolves like those three.’
Christi sighed, not appreciating his humour at her expense at all. She didn’t find anything about the situation funny. ‘Enough about my weekend,’ she dismissed briskly. ‘How did yours go?’ she asked interestedly.
His humour instantly faded, a brooding look in his silver-grey eyes. ‘Marsha didn’t bring the children over until Saturday morning,’ he revealed bitterly. ‘Claimed Daisy had a temperature the day before.’
Christi gave him a sympathetic grimace. Lucas and his ex-wife didn’t get on, and after she had met the brittly shallow woman a couple of times it wasn’t too difficult to understand why a man as warm and charming as Lucas should find his ex-wife’s grasping and manipulative nature highly distasteful.
Oh, Marsha hadn’t always been that way, he had assured Christi. In fact, the two of them had been quite happy together when they had first married and produced first Robin and then Daisy. But, with the progression of their marriage, so had Lucas’s success increased, and also Marsha’s wants and ambitions. For the sake of their children, Lucas had given Marsha everything she asked for; he could afford it, so why not? Their marriage seemed to have survived only by Lucas giving and Marsha taking during the years. Until the day Marsha realised she could go on taking without having to remain married to Lucas.
Lucas had skimmed over the rocky years of his marriage to Marsha, playing down the difficult parts, enthusing over what a joy the children had been to him and Marsha both. It had been Marsha who had told Christi, in her brittle way, just how ‘hellish’ she had considered her marriage to Lucas to be, initially completely misunderstanding the friendship that existed between Christi and Lucas, warning her sharply of the dull life she could expect to lead if she became seriously involved with Lucas. Marsha’s life as Lucas’s wife had sounded far from dull to Christi, and her words more the fretful complaints of a spoilt woman.
As far as Christi could tell, Lucas’s real regret at the breakdown five years ago of his four-year marriage was that his children had been left in Marsha’s care, that he was only able to have seven-year-old Robin and six-year-old Daisy on the weekends and holidays Marsha agreed to let him have them.
It didn’t seem right to Christi that such a woman should have the care of Lucas’s children but, as he himself admitted, he had never been able to criticise Marsha’s ability to be a mother to their two children.
But that caring didn’t extend to the inclusions of bothering herself unduly about the feelings of the man she had dismissed so easily from her life once his wealth made it possible for her to still live lavishly without the restrictions of a husband, and so she didn’t hesitate to callously let him down when he was expecting to see the children, always having a perfectly valid excuse for doing so, of course, so that there should be no legal repercussions.
Christie’s heart ached for how much Lucas missed having his children with him all the time, how each time he saw them they seemed to have grown up a little more, achieved new things he had no sharing in. It was only the fact that Robin and Daisy seemed so well adjusted to the situation that prevented him being more bitter about things than he was.
But by the sound of it Marsha had been up to her usual tricks this weekend, seeming to take a fiendish delight in upsetting Lucas’s plans for spending time with his children. Christi felt like shaking the other woman but, knowing the beautiful redhead, she would only laugh at accusations that she was being cruel to Lucas. She had claimed he didn’t have a heart to be hurt on the one occasion Christi had tentatively mentioned how upsetting it must be for him to be parted from his children in this way.
Needless to say, there was no love lost between her and the other woman, although none of that showed as she smiled at Lucas. ‘How did Daisy seem over the weekend?’ she prompted lightly.
His expression softened. ‘They were both fine. Having the cats and dog about the place helped,’ he added soberly, unconsciously revealing the strain of only being allowed to be a part-time parent.
‘I’m glad.’ Christi gave a bright smile. ‘Did Daisy lose her other front tooth? You said it was a bit wobbly the last time she stayed.’
The harshness of his face was completely softened with love for the two mischievous imps that looked so much like him, with their thick dark hair and silver-grey eyes. ‘Lost it and started to grow the replacement,’ he answered ruefully.
‘And did Robin like the Transformer you sent for his birthday?’ she smiled.
Lucas’s mouth tightened, his eyes a fierce silver. ‘His mother decided it wasn’t suitable for him and exchanged it for something else,’ he rasped.
Christi gave a pained frown, sure that the toy had been perfectly suitable for Robin. She had gone with Lucas to shop for the sturdy toy, Lucas having taken care not to buy anything with guns, respecting, and agreeing with, Marsha’s decision that Robin had plenty of time before he needed to be introduced to the violence in life. The Transformer they had finally chosen did no more than change from a robust truck into a robot. What possible harm could Marsha have found in that? The obvious thing seemed to be that his father had bought it for him. The other woman wasn’t averse to taking what she could from Lucas—the monthly allowance she received from him was enough to keep most families for a year!—but she wasn’t about to let Lucas take the praise for anything. Christi didn’t know how Lucas managed to control the anger he must feel towards his ex-wife!
‘I’m sure he liked what he had instead,’ she bit out tautly.
‘He didn’t say,’ Lucas said grimly, glancing at his wristwatch as he stood up. ‘I have an appointment at ten, so I have to go now,’ he told her lightly, bringing back the smiling Lucas with effort. ‘Good luck with the audition this afternoon.’ He nudged her gently under the chin with his fist. ‘Break a leg,’ he teased.
She returned his smile. ‘Thanks for looking after the pets for me.’ She walked him to the door.
‘My pleasure.’ He moved with leashed vitality, grinning at her as they reached the door. ‘And I shall expect a full report on your dates this week,’ he derided. ‘And remember, as an honorary brother, I expect an invitation to the wedding,’ came his parting shot.
Christi watched him stride off down the corridor to the lift, returning his brief salute before the doors closed behind him.
Oh, she would honour the dates she had made with the three men while they were in the Lake District, but she knew with certainty that a wedding wouldn’t result from seeing any of them again.
How could she marry anyone when it was Lucas she loved, that she had always loved?

CHAPTER TWO (#uae810e65-cdcb-5b86-9b16-14829febe80c)
PERHAPS always was putting it a little strongly, but Christi had certainly loved Lucas from the time he had first introduced himself as her neighbour almost four years ago.
Her parents had only recently died, the full impact of that not hitting her until weeks later, and her move from her parents’ house to a smaller, more manageable apartment had been made with something like detachment. Certainly, it hadn’t been until some of the suitable furniture from her parents’ home was being moved into the apartment that she suddenly realised her mother would never be coming back to sit behind the delicate writing-table as she answered all her overdue correspondence, that her father—her dear, absent-minded father—wouldn’t ever again have a need for the display cabinet that had housed his most precious objects, those artefacts now given to museums, as he had requested they should be in his will.
But seeing all that furniture moved into these strange surroundings had been the end for her. She had run from the apartment with a choked cry, coming to an abrupt halt as she crashed into a hard, but somehow soft, wall. Lucas’s chest …
She had been eighteen years old, sheltered and cosseted all her life by over-indulgent parents, the men she had so far had in her life only a passing amusement at best. But, as she looked up into the harshly beautiful face of the man that held her so tightly against his chest, she had felt her heart leave her body and join with his. Not even a word had passed between them, but Christi knew she was looking into the face of the man she loved.
And when he had spoken it had been with gentle kindness, introducing himself as Lucas Kingsley, her new neighbour, insisting she join him in his apartment for a drink of some kind while the removal men finished bringing up her furniture.
Christi had felt wrapped in a protective glow, huskily explaining her recent loss, held tightly in his arms as she cried on his broad shoulder, her senses wallowing in the clean smell of him that was mingled with another smell that was all Lucas, a completely masculine aura that seduced and tempted, drawing her more fully into his spell.
He had left her only briefly, and that was to tip the removal men when they knocked on the door to say they had finished, returning instantly to take her in his arms once again.
But, during that time, or the many times afterwards when he had offered her the same comfort, it had never been the sort of embrace she wanted from him. He treated her more like the little sister he had never had, taking her firmly under his wing until she felt able to stand on her own two shaky feet, even then continuing to be the shoulder she could always cry on if she felt the need.
She had watched with dismay as first one woman entered his life, and then another, none of them lasting very long, all of them maintaining a friendship even once the relationship was over. With each new woman that entered his life, Christi lived in dread of this one being the one he decided to settle down with.
After two years of loving him that hopelessly, when it seemed he would never see her as more than the ‘little girl next door,’ she had decided something would have to be done to make him see she was all grown up now, a woman in every sense of the word. If she couldn’t have Lucas, she was going to make sure he saw her with enough men to be convinced of her maturity.
The next year had been full of those men, but, instead of Lucas accepting she was no longer a child, he had merely offered her his shoulder to cry on whenever one of those friendships broke up!
After more careful thought, she had decided that it had to be the fact that she still had a guardian, in the shape of her uncle Zach, that prevented Lucas seeing her maturity, and consequently her love for him. That decision had provoked an elaborate—and, she accepted now a ridiculous—plan, that would show her uncle just how adept she was at taking responsibility for her own life. The result of that had been her uncle and Dizzy—who she had somehow managed to persuade to enter into the madcap scheme to hoodwink her uncle—falling in love with each other, her uncle releasing his guardianship of her and her inheritance into her own control at twenty-one, instead of the twenty-five it could have been—and with Lucas’s attitude not changing towards her in the least!
She had been at a loss to know what to do after that, had drifted along for another six months, lost in a sea of self-pity. Then, as a last desperate plea for Lucas’s love, she had stopped dating other men altogether, concentrating on her career, hoping that would finally make him sit up and take notice of her. Months later, she had to admit it hadn’t affected him in the slightest.
And neither had the idea of her possibly becoming involved with Dick Crosby, Barry Robbins, or David Kendrick! He had even invited himself to the wedding!
She would just have to accept it, she didn’t have anything to interest a man of thirty-seven who had been married and had a couple of children.
She couldn’t accept that! She loved Lucas, had loved him for four long years, would go on loving him until the day she died. And she wouldn’t give up trying to get him to return that love until that day came!
The last thing she felt like doing at the end of another exhausting—and disappointing—day, was getting dressed up to go out on a date with Dick Crosby.
She freely admitted that she had got out of the habit of going out on dates the last six months. Not that it had been too difficult; until last week she had had a one-line part in a long-running play, which had taken up most of her evenings. But last week the play had come to an end, and so she was back looking for work, or ‘resting’, as most people knew it. She knew she was one of the lucky ones; her allowance, and then her full inheritance, meant that she was never going to be one of the ‘starving’ actors who had to find work to survive. But she wanted to make a success of her career, and loved to act, going for any of the auditions her agent managed to set up for her. It was a bit much to expect success after only two days of looking, but the fact that she hadn’t didn’t add to the mood of wanting to go out for the evening.
It didn’t help that she hadn’t seen Lucas since he had so blithely invited himself to her non-existent wedding, either!
He had been out on a date last night himself, with a beautiful lawyer who possessed brains as well as all that blonde beauty; Christi had learnt this when Lucas introduced the two of them last week. He and Michelle had been seeing each other for a couple of weeks now, and Christi could tell by the way Michelle looked at Lucas that she was more than fond of him. It was like twisting a knife in her chest to see him with other women, to imagine him making love to those women. One thing she was grateful for, Lucas never brought those women home to spend the night with him, any lovemaking he did obviously taking place at the woman’s home.
He had come home alone last night, late, because Christi had heard him letting himself into his apartment just after twelve.
He had already left for the office in town, from which he ran his considerable empire, by the time she’d got up this morning; and as she wasn’t likely to see him tonight, either, now that she was going out herself, the evening looked bleak.
Poor Dick Crosby! She wasn’t being fair to him at all, she realised ruefully. He couldn’t help it if he wasn’t the man she really wanted to be with, nor that she was in love with a man who was far out of her reach.
Because she felt so guilty about her reluctance to go on this date at all, she made an extra special effort to look nice for Dick, aware that the flaming red dress, that reached just below her shapely knees, made her hair appear more ebony than usual, and added colour to her pale cheeks.
Nevertheless, her heart gave a weary lurch when the doorbell rang promptly at eight o’clock, and there was no way she could force a sparkle into haunted blue eyes as she hurried to answer the door.
Dick Crosby was in his early thirties, with thick sandy-coloured hair that fell endearingly across his forehead, and brown eyes that warmed appreciatively as they took in her appearance. Not quite six feet tall, he nevertheless possessed a natural grace of movement that made him appear taller than he actually was.
‘I must remember to thank Dizzy for finally introducing us properly,’ he murmured softly.
Dizzy. Her best friend—and aunt—had rung her shortly after she had got in this evening, assuring her what a lovely person Dick was, and telling her to ‘give him a chance’.
Mentioning Dizzy was the worst thing Dick could have done, if he had but known it, the evening losing what little glow it had had with the remembrance that Dizzy had been the one to set them up in this way. She meant well, but …
‘Shall we go?’ Christi suggested sharply, sighing inwardly as Dick gave her a hurt look. ‘Sorry,’ she grimaced. ‘Bad day,’ she excused, picking up her jacket to follow him out into the corridor.
He relaxed again. ‘Oh, I know what they are,’ he said knowingly. ‘Only too well, lately.’
‘Oh?’ she prompted with polite interest. Maybe if she got him chatting she wouldn’t have to add too much to the conversation.
‘Yes, I——’ Dick broke off abruptly as he saw the stricken look on her face as the lift doors opened in front of them.
Christi stared disbelievingly at Lucas and Marsha as they stood side by side in the lift. Lucas was grim-faced, Marsha as kittenishly beautiful as usual as her ex-husband ushered her out into the corridor.
The two couples stared at each other as the lift doors closed, and the lift descended again without Christi having made a move to go inside it.
Marsha and Lucas made an arresting couple—Lucas so tall and handsome, Marsha so delicately lovely as her hand rested on the crook of his arm.
But what were they doing together like this? the question screamed in Christi’s mind. How could Lucas fail to appreciate the beauty of the woman who had once been his wife, her hair curving alluringly about her beautiful heart-shaped face, the black dress she wore showing off her curves to perfection. Next to her, Christi felt like an ungainly giraffe!
And then reality righted itself, and with it came the realisation that Lucas and Marsha were divorced because they didn’t love each other, that they had been more like enemies the last five years, that the only interest they shared was their children.
The children … Of course! Marsha would be here to discuss something with Lucas concerning the children. She could only hope, for Lucas’s sake, that it was nothing too traumatic; Marsha had already made him suffer enough where they were concerned.
‘You seem to have missed the lift,’ Marsha purred mockingly, hazel-coloured eyes gleaming with catlike malice as she looked Christi over scornfully.
Christi’s head went back challengingly. ‘It must be the surprise of seeing you again,’ she derided. ‘It must be—almost a year since we last met?’
‘Something like that,’ the other woman dismissed in a bored voice. ‘You haven’t changed at all,’ she scorned. ‘Although the men in your life seem to have matured somewhat.’ She looked Dick over appreciatively, giving him her most seductive smile.
Christi stiffened at Marsha’s open derision for her lack of years, glancing uncomfortably at Lucas. He looked so grim, his eyes glittering silver with suppressed anger, that Christi just wanted to put her arms around him and tell him everything would be all right, that Marsha wouldn’t be able to torment him with the upbringing of his children any longer. But it would be a hollow promise; while Marsha had Lucas’s children, she took great delight in making him dance to her tune any time she wished. For a man as forceful and dynamic as Lucas, it was an impossible situation.
She woodenly made the introductions. Lucas’s greeting was terse, to say the least, Marsha’s a sensuous purr, and Dick’s after his initial surprise at hearing that Marsha and Lucas, the flirtatious woman and the grim-faced man, were husband and wife, was cautiously warm; he kept a wary eye on the other man’s face with its stony expression and hooded grey eyes. He obviously didn’t know what to make of the oddly matched pair, and Christi took pity on him and suggested they had better leave now or they would be late for dinner.
She cast one last anxious glance at Lucas as the lift doors closed behind her and Dick, her heart twisting at how bleak he looked.
‘What a strange couple,’ Dick remarked dazedly at her side.
Christi’s mouth tightened. ‘They’re divorced,’ she snapped.
‘Oh!’ he said with some relief. ‘Oh,’ he repeated again in soft speculation.
‘And yes, Marsha is very available, in case you’re interested,’ she told him sharply, marching out of the building to come to a halt on the edge of the pavement. She was shaking with anger, and drew in a deep, steadying breath to calm herself.
Dick caught up with her in a couple of strides; he seemed surprised by her outburst, and looked at her enquiringly.
‘I’m sorry.’ She gave a rueful grimace. ‘Marsha doesn’t bring out the best in me, and—well, I did warn you it had been a bad day.’ And it was getting worse by the moment! Dick couldn’t be blamed for finding Marsha attractive, especially after the woman had come on to him as strongly as she had. At the time, it had just seemed to her that Marsha was to blame for the fact that Lucas wasn’t able to fall in love again, and that the man Christi did have interested in her was also succumbing to the other woman’s undoubted sensual attraction. In that moment, it had just seemed too much! ‘Although that’s no reason to behave like a shrew,’ she apologised again.
This time, instead of feeling annoyance when Dick mentioned Dizzy, Christi felt relieved to be on neutral ground, relaxing slowly on the drive to the restaurant as they discussed the success of Dizzy’s illustrations. The most recent publication to come out with one of her illustrations was a Claudia Laurence book, one of the most successful ever.
Not many people realised it, but Christi’s uncle Zach was, in fact, Claudia Laurence, the author of those ‘hot’ historicals that always had the public clamouring for more. Christi herself had found out quite by accident, shocked to learn that the man she had once termed ‘fusty and dusty’ wrote those enjoyable adventurous romps. As Dizzy’s agent, Dick was also in on the secret, and they both relaxed as they discussed the books.
Her uncle’s secret was one she hadn’t even told Lucas, knowing how sensitive her uncle was about the subject, for his career as a professor of history was just as important to him. It wasn’t that she thought Lucas would tell anyone else, it was just that—well, it wasn’t her secret to tell. Maybe if he had been able to love her …
‘Is there anyone there?’ Dick spoke in a ghostly voice.
Christi blinked at him in surprise, having been completely unaware of her surroundings; the exclusive restaurant, and Dick, had faded from her mind as her thoughts had once again dwelled on Lucas.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she apologised again. ‘I’m afraid I’m not very good company tonight,’ she added with embarrassment.
‘That’s all right,’ he accepted ruefully. ‘I guess my conversation must have been boring for you.’
She had no idea what the conversation had been about! But Dick didn’t seem about to go over it again, suggesting they order their meal instead.
Christi felt terrible about her inattentiveness, putting Lucas—and what Marsha could possibly want to see him about—firmly from her mind, and concentrating on being charming to Dick.
Nevertheless, it wasn’t the most successful evening she had ever had, and as Dick kissed her briefly at her door, obviously waiting for an invitation to come in, she knew it would be kinder not to encourage him any further. He was a nice enough man, but he certainly wasn’t going to be the one to supplant Lucas in her heart!
‘No?’ he realised gently.
Christi gave a shaky smile. ‘I am sorry——’ She was silenced by his fingertips over her lips.
‘It was a nice evening,’ he smiled. ‘I enjoyed your company—I’m not so sure you were actually with me most of the evening,’ he teased without rancour, ‘but it was a pleasant time.’
Pleasant. It wasn’t much of a eulogy. She had to face it: as a return to the dating scene, it had been a disaster!
She was shaking her head as she walked aimlessly around her apartment, filled with a restlessness that wouldn’t be satisfied until she had spoken to Lucas again. But she couldn’t go knocking on his door at eleven-thirty at night!
Damn it, why couldn’t she? They were friends, at least, and friends cared about each other, and he had looked awful when she saw him earlier with Marsha. He could even be ill. Or …
Why bother to search for excuses? She had to talk to him, and that was all there was to it!
Christi was encouraged by the fact that she could hear music playing softly inside the apartment next to hers, and hesitated only briefly outside the door as the possibility that he wasn’t alone passed through her mind. She would take that risk; he could only ask her to wait until tomorrow before talking to him.
She knew she had been right to come when she saw how haggard he looked when he opened the door to her ring, his dark hair looking as if he had been running agitated fingers through it for most of the evening, his face pale, his pale grey shirt partly unbuttoned down his chest to reveal the start of the dark hair that grew there, a glass of whisky held in his hand. It was the latter that told her how disturbed he was; Lucas never drank alcohol, and only ever kept a supply in for guests.
She shifted uncomfortably on his doorstep as he looked at her with narrowed eyes. ‘I—er—I thought I would come and tell you how my evening went.’ It was positively the last thing she had meant to say, but suddenly she had felt as if she were intruding on something he didn’t want to talk about just now. ‘You did say you would like a report on each of my dates,’ she added lamely as he continued to look at her.
To her relief, he relaxed slightly, a faint glimmer of amusement darkening his eyes as he held the door wider for her to enter.
The lounge was in shadows, with only a small table-lamp for illumination, the Kenny Rogers cassette she had bought him last Christmas playing softly in the background. Christi turned awkwardly to face Lucas, feeling as if she had walked in on something very private. What had Marsha wanted to talk to him about tonight?
‘No Michelle tonight?’ she enquired lightly as she sat down in one of the comfortable brown leather armchairs, the room completely masculine, the décor brown and cream, the furniture heavy and attractive.
‘No,’ he drawled, his voice gruff, as if the unaccustomed raw alcohol had burned his throat on its way down. ‘I didn’t think it fair to inflict my company on anyone tonight,’ he added ruefully, taking another drink of the whisky as he dropped down on to the sofa, his long legs stretched out in front of him.
Maybe she should have had the same fore-thought, and not ruined Dick Crosby’s evening for him! Dizzy was sure to telephone for a full report tomorrow, and she wasn’t going to be too happy with what she was told.
Strange, she and Dizzy were closer than sisters, and yet she had never told her friend of her love for Lucas, had never told anyone. God knew what Dizzy would do if she knew it was Lucas she loved! Christi thought disgustedly.
But, right now, dealing with Lucas’s depressed mood, a mood she had never seen him in before in all the years she had known him, was what was important to her. Lucas’s happiness would always be important to her.
‘So,’ he spoke briskly, ‘was he the one?’ He looked at her interestedly, amusement darkening his eyes.
Christi relaxed slightly at his teasing. ‘No,’ she answered without hesitation.
‘Oh!’ Lucas looked surprised. ‘He seemed a nice enough chap to me.’
‘He was,’ she nodded. ‘But he wasn’t for me.’ You’re the man for me, she cried inside, wishing—oh, God, wishing he could see her as more than a young sister, or, even worse, someone he treated as being on the same age level as his two children! Much as she liked Robin and Daisy, her feelings towards them weren’t sibling, but more maternal. She longed to be their stepmother, to perhaps give Lucas other children. ‘Crying for the moon,’ her mother would probably have told her gently, her face softened with love.
Lucas sipped his whisky again. ‘How could you tell after just one date? Love doesn’t always hit you between the eyes like a fist, you know. Sometimes it takes time to develop and grow.’ He relaxed back against the sofa, watching her beneath heavy lids.
But sometimes it did hit you like that fist, and when it did it was the hardest thing in the world to live without! ‘Love doesn’t,’ she acknowledged with a nod.
He frowned. ‘Meaning something else does?’
‘Oh, yes,’ she smiled.
‘What—ah!’ He gave a knowing sigh, his mouth twisted into a smile. ‘That little monster lust rearing its head again,’ he derided.
The bleakness was starting to fade from his eyes, and he had put down the half-finished glass of whisky on the coffee-table beside him. ‘I don’t think of it as lust,’ she chided reprovingly. ‘Merely a case of physical attraction,’ she corrected with mock indignation, rewarded with a gleam of laughter in dark grey eyes.
‘Lust,’ he repeated drily. ‘But there was none of this—physical attraction,’ he teased her mockingly, ‘between you and Dick Crosby?’
Another few moments of this nonsense and she would have the old Lucas back again, and not the man whose barely leashed savagery distressed her so much.
‘Hm—maybe a little,’ she conceded with exaggerated thought.
‘On his part, at least,’ Lucas taunted knowingly. ‘Weren’t you attracted to him, too?’ he asked interestedly.
‘He was very handsome, fun to be with,’ she conceded with a shrug.
‘And?’
‘And nothing,’ she dismissed lightly.
‘You liked him, he was fun to be with, you found him handsome, and yet—nothing?’ Lucas said disbelievingly.
‘Hm,’ she nodded, mischief gleaming in her eyes. ‘I had my doubts throughout the evening, but it was the kiss that finally convinced me,’ she said sadly, laughter lighting up her eyes beneath demurely lowered lashes.
Lucas sat forward, his elbows resting on his knees, a frown between his eyes. ‘The man has got to the age of—thirty-one, thirty-two——’
‘Thirty-one,’ she confirmed.
‘To the age of thirty-one, and is still a lousy kisser?’ he said incredulously.
‘On the contrary,’ she drawled, ‘he was a very experienced and accomplished kisser.’
‘But——’
‘There are kisses. And then there are kisses, Lucas,’ she explained meaningfully, knowing they wouldn’t be having this conversation at all if Lucas hadn’t drunk the unaccustomed whisky. In the past, he had always shown a cursory interest in her dates, but they had certainly never discussed these sort of intimacies!
‘There are?’ he mocked.
‘Platonic kisses, polite kisses, meaningless kisses——’
‘I thought there was only one way for a man to kiss a woman he found attractive,’ Lucas drawled. ‘So that he leaves her in no doubt that he wants her.’
Christi felt her heart leap in her chest, knowing she could lose what she already had with Lucas, but also knowing she would perhaps never have another opportunity like this one. ‘Then maybe Dick did do something wrong,’ she accepted thoughtfully. ‘Maybe you could show me how it should be done? Oh, I realise you would have to pretend to find me attractive, but at least this way I know what to look for in a man,’ she concluded innocently, her hands clasped tightly together so that Lucas shouldn’t see their trembling, her heart beating so loudly, she felt sure he must be able to hear it. She could lose everything with him, but oh, how she longed to know the touch of his lips on hers just once!
His expression darkened. ‘I don’t think——’
She quickly got up from her chair and joined him on the sofa, her legs folded beneath her as she faced him. ‘How else am I to know what to want from a man if someone doesn’t show me?’ She looked at him imploringly.
He swallowed hard, a nerve pulsing at his jaw. ‘The men you dated last year——’
‘Did nothing for me, either,’ she dismissed, telling him clearly that she had never found any man attractive enough to let him do more than kiss her.
How could she let any other man but Lucas touch her? She had loved him long before she had taken any other man seriously, and loving Lucas as she did meant she couldn’t bear the thought of any other man making love to her.
Her heart pounded more loudly than ever as she waited for his answer, knowing she was perhaps taking advantage of the fogging the whisky had caused to his brain, but wanting—so much—to be taken in his arms. Regrets could come later. And she didn’t doubt that there would be many.
Lucas sighed, shaking his head, obviously not as affected by the whisky as she had thought—hoped!—he was. ‘I don’t think that would be a good idea.’
She sat back with a shaky sigh, his rejection a bitter blow. ‘Maybe Barry will be more cooperative,’ she challenged angrily, blinking back her tears of disappointment. ‘After mixing with all those Hollywood starlets, he’s sure to be very experienced!’
Lucas clasped her arms, turning her to face him, his expression fierce. ‘Don’t go playing games with a man like Barry Robbins,’ he warned grimly.
‘Why not?’ she said defiantly, so hurt she just had to hit out at him. She had taken the chance, and lost, but in a way that humiliated as much as it hurt. ‘He’s attracted to me, I can tell, and—oomph!’ She was abruptly silenced as Lucas’s mouth descended on hers, stealing her breath away.
He was kissing her out of anger, not passion, but to Christi it didn’t matter; she melted into his arms as he bent her back against the sofa, her arms moving up about his neck as she clung to him, gladly returning his kiss.
And then his mouth gentled on hers, controlling the fiery passion that had instantly blazed between them, nibbling on her lips with slow enjoyment, tracing the outline of lips with the tip of his tongue, moving it temptingly against them, but making no attempt to probe within, promising but not giving.
Christi’s body ached, her nipples hard pebbles against his chest as the kiss once again became fierce, no longer promising but giving fully, plunging again and again until her whole body shook and quivered with need, a need which was slightly assuaged when his hands began to move restlessly over her aching flesh.
She was floating, she was soaring, she was held totally captive, she was aching, she was hurting, she was more complete than she had ever felt before. She was Lucas’s …
Suddenly he thrust her away from him, staring down at her as if he couldn’t believe his eyes, moving forcefully up off the sofa to move as far away from her as possible, his back rigidly unyielding as he kept himself firmly turned away from her.
Christi knew how she must look to him, her eyes drugged with wantonness, her mouth a swollen pout, her hair wild about her shoulders, her breasts still thrusting against the soft material of her dress, that same dress having ridden up to show off the long expanse of her thighs.
And the wanton Lucas had produced obviously disgusted him.
She got up from the sofa with a choked sob, running from the room, from the apartment. She didn’t stop running until she was safely hidden away in her bedroom.

CHAPTER THREE (#uae810e65-cdcb-5b86-9b16-14829febe80c)
IF CHRISTI had expected Lucas to follow her, to try to make things right between them again, she had been disappointed. He didn’t come to her that night, and she saw nothing of him the next day, either, whether by his design or by coincidence she didn’t know. She did know that he wasn’t at his apartment all day and that he didn’t even return to change before going out for the evening, although she had heard his return at three o’clock this morning.
She had ruined things between them, had pushed their friendship through a barrier Lucas had no wish for it to cross.
She curled up into an even tighter ball of misery as she lay in her bed at nine o’clock in the morning, trying to force herself to get out and get herself moving.
She had wanted Lucas as a lover, yes, but she didn’t have that, and she certainly didn’t have his friendship any more, either. At the time, she had wanted him so badly it hadn’t seemed to matter, but after just one day of knowing she disgusted him she was finding it hard to live with herself.
What if she never saw him again? What if he decided to move out of his apartment because of the uncomfortable situation she had forced upon them? Until these last two days, it had never occurred to her that Lucas would ever move away from living next door to her. But she had to admit that now it was more than a possibility. She tried to tell herself that she was too good a friend to Lucas for this upset to cause him to do that, but at the same time she knew she had made it impossible for him to feel comfortable in his own home.
Then she would have to be the one to move out! Why should Lucas be forced out for something that had all been her fault, because her curiosity and good sense had got the better of her?
She didn’t want to move, hated the thought of moving away from here, from possibly never seeing Lucas again. But if one of them had to go it would have to be her; she had no choice.
That decision made, she got wearily out of bed, the day stretching in front of her. She had no auditions to go to, no one to see until Barry Robbins tonight. ‘Resting’ was all well and good, but it gave you too much time to think and brood. About what might have been. How different things might have been if Lucas had known the same passion and desire she had the other night, she mused dreamily. They would have made love together all night, spent the day together, probably been together again last night, too. Instead of that, they weren’t even talking to each other.
Whoever would have thought she and Lucas would come to this? What had possessed her to force that situation of the other night?
Tears that had fallen all too readily over the last two days began to roll down her cheeks again. Oh, Lucas! she cried inside as she dropped down on one of the bar stools in her kitchen, the homely sound of the coffee percolating not piercing her misery. How often she and Lucas had sat down and had coffee together before he left to go to work, and how she had daydreamed, during those times, that they were a happily married couple sharing breakfast together. Reality had intruded when Lucas had stood up to kiss her paternally on the forehead, or, worse than that, had ruffled her hair affectionately before picking up his briefcase and leaving.
Christi gave a startled jump as her doorbell rang, hastily brushing away her tears as she went to greet the doorman with her mail.
But it was Lucas who stood on the doorstep, and she gazed up at him apprehensively. Not that she was in the least self-conscious about having him see her in her short pink silk nightshirt; she had break-fasted with him hundreds of times in the past wearing similar night attire. It was having him treat her as a stranger that was going to be so unbearable.
‘Good morning, lazybones,’ he greeted with an indulgent grin, ruffling her hair affectionately as he strode inside her apartment.
Christi followed him dazedly after closing the door behind him; this was no stranger, this was the Lucas she had always known!
‘I was in my apartment working when I heard you moving about—at last!’ he rebuked teasingly, grey eyes dark with affection. ‘I knew you would be putting coffee on, so I thought I’d come over and share a cup with you.’ He strode into the kitchen with the ease of familiarity, getting down the cups for their coffee. ‘I must say, you look a little hung-over this morning, Christi.’ He handed her a cup of steaming coffee.
She looked hung-over? He was the one who had come home at three o’clock this morning! Not that he looked any the worse for it; he was exuding good health and vitality, while she—— Obviously what had happened between them the other evening certainly hadn’t kept him awake at nights!
Instead of feeling guilty about what had happened, Christi began to feel anger at Lucas’s indifference. Didn’t the passion they had shared mean anything to him? Obviously not, she decided indignantly.
Unless he just didn’t remember it? He had been drinking that evening, something he rarely did, and maybe, just maybe—— But wasn’t that the classic excuse people used when something had happened they would rather just forget, and didn’t know how else to achieve it?
She looked at Lucas suspiciously. Was that why he was behaving like his usual cheerful self this morning, because he wanted her to think he didn’t even remember what had happened between them the other night, because he wanted to forget the whole embarrassing incident had happened? Or—and this seemed more like the Lucas she loved—was he trying to save face for both of them, hoping that, if he behaved as if nothing had happened between them, they would eventually both feel that nothing had happened?
Christi would give anything not to live through the mortification of the last two days again, and readily accepted that Lucas thought the whole thing was best forgotten, grasping at the friendship he offered with both hands.
At least, she took the coffee he held out to her with both hands, giving him a relieved smile!
He settled himself on one of her bar stools, facing out towards the kitchen, breathtakingly attractive in the dark navy suit and snowy white shirt, his striped tie meticulously knotted at his throat, his dark hair falling endearingly across his forehead.
‘So,’ he said lightly. ‘Did you go out last night?’ he asked interestedly.
‘No.’ She would have liked to ask him where he had been until three o’clock this morning but, considering Michelle’s obvious beauty, and his continuing relationship with the other woman, the answer to that was all too obvious. And painful. ‘I had a few chores to do,’ she dismissed shruggingly. ‘Did you have a pleasant evening?’ She looked at him enquiringly.
‘Fine,’ he nodded. ‘How are the auditions going?’
She gave a rueful smile. ‘They aren’t.’ She sighed. ‘There are too many actresses and not enough parts.’
‘Hm, it’s a pity the play had to close,’ he nodded thoughtfully.
They were talking as they usually did, and yet to Christi there was something missing. At first, it was difficult to pinpoint, and then she knew it was the ease with which they were usually together. Unless it was just her, because Lucas seemed just as relaxed as ever. Maybe he really didn’t

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/carole-mortimer/to-love-again/) на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.