Authors: Robyn Grady
‘It
was a little awkward speaking again after so many years. I was only fourteen
when Jacob left. But we’d always got along.’
He
wove a fingertip aimlessly over the pearl etched on the menu, perhaps wondering
if he ought to divulge anything more. For a moment she thought she glimpsed
pain lurking in the shadows of his gaze and words of support rose up. Yes, she
was curious but they could talk about something else if the past hurt too much
to discuss. She understood, more than he might ever know.
But
then he swept up his water glass, took a sip and met her gaze again.
‘Wolfe
Manor has been declared structurally unsafe and a danger to the community,’ he
said. ‘Jacob wants to repair the damage. No easy feat.’
Repair
the damage … Libby had the feeling Alex was speaking about more than fixing
some dilapidated ancient house.
‘Does
Jacob think it’s salvageable?’
‘Rising
damp, holes in the roof, crumbling brick, grounds grown wild. Vandals did a
number on it too. But apparently Jacob’s an architect now. He plans to
refurbish the manor completely, then sell it on.’ His jaw tightening, Alex
seemed to look inward. ‘Frankly, I can’t see how he can set foot in that place
again.’ His gaze cleared as it darted over her shoulder and his chin kicked up.
‘Here comes the wine.’
As
the waiter presented the label for Alex to acknowledge, Libby pressed her lips
together. These weeks she’d tried to keep a professional distance between
herself and Alex. He was the kind of man any woman could get distracted by. And
in only a few moments of conversation, she was looking at him not as a client
or even a world-renowned top athlete but a real person, with regrets and fears
as well as the courage to overcome them.
She
wanted to hear more about the ghosts that seemed to inhabit Wolfe Manor. She
imagined streams of cobwebs, fallen-down stairs, skeletons in every closet. But
how much more was Alex prepared to divulge?
Wine
poured, Alex raised his glass. ‘Here’s to my speedy recovery.’
‘Here’s
to a healthy future.’
He
grinned over the rim of his glass and sipped.
‘What
other news did your bother have?’ she asked, savouring the wine’s oaky flavour
while lowering her glass.
‘Now
this is interesting.’ When he tipped forward, his shoulders seemed to grow as
the space between them closed. Libby’s nerve endings began to hum. Thank heaven
they would never kiss. She might go up in flames!
‘Another
brother, Lucas, is involved with Hartington’s.’
‘The
big UK store?’
Alex
nodded. ‘The venue which was supposed to host the company’s centennial party
pulled out at the last minute and Lucas ended up hosting the bash on the Wolfe
Manor grounds. The place was apparently surrounded by scaffolds, but they’d
restored a good portion of the lawns to their former aristocratic glory.
Another brother, Nathaniel, was there on the night.’
Libby’s
mind wound back. That Christian name gelled with Alex’s surname and then
exploded in her head.
‘Not
Nathaniel Wolfe the actor? The movie star who won that big award a couple of
months ago?’
‘One
and the same. There was a scandal surrounding his West End debut.’
‘I
read about it.’
‘He
hid away on a privately owned island off the coast of South America.’
‘Nathaniel
owns an island?’
‘No.
Another brother, Sebastian.’
Near
overwhelmed, Libby blew out a breath. ‘The Wolfe kids did well for themselves.’
‘Despite
all odds.’
Again
Libby saw that shadow darken his gaze, drag on his mouth, and she shivered.
Just how bad had his childhood been?
‘Anyway,’
he went on easily, pretending to himself that his past didn’t worry him when it
was obvious that it did, ‘seems Nathaniel fell in love with the woman he
kidnapped—’
She
frowned. ‘Oh, now you’re making it up.’
He
raised a hand—Scout’s honour. ‘And at this centennial night they announced
their plans to marry.’
Emotion
flooded her throat and a mist came over her eyes. Silly to have such a strong
emotion, but that evening sounded like a fabulous fairytale ending. One any
girl might dream of.
If
she were
ready for that kind of thing. If she’d found the right one.
‘I
hope they’ll be very happy,’ Libby said with the utmost sincerity. ‘Are you
invited to the wedding?’
‘I
have a previous engagement.’
Questioning,
she angled her head and realised he was talking about a race. But she didn’t
want to put a damper on their conversation, ask about dates and then get into
the old ‘you might not be fit to drive’ argument. Today she didn’t want to
discuss that at all.
The
waiter appeared, refilled their near-empty glasses and enquired, ‘Are you ready
to order, sir?’
‘Five
minutes,’ Alex replied, and pulled a mock guilty face as the waiter walked
away. ‘Guess we ought to make some decisions.’
Libby
glanced at her watch and gasped. ‘Where’s the time gone?’
‘Seems
you won’t make it back to the office in an hour.’
‘That
speech won’t go away.’
‘Precisely.
It’ll be there tomorrow. So let’s enjoy what’s left of today.’
When
he raised his glass, she hesitated but then lifted hers too. Just this once,
who said life had to be all work and no play?
HE
AND Libby took their time with their meals, savouring the exotic flavours and
brilliant bay views. A dessert wine was ordered to go with pineapple tarts to
end off. Now as the waiter took the empty dessert dishes, Alex moved to fill
his companion’s glass again, but Libby held up both hands.
‘Thank
you, but I’ve had more than enough.’
‘You’re
not still pretending that you’re going back to work,’ he chided.
‘But
it’s only—’ She checked her watch, then, amazed, glanced around the
near-deserted restaurant. ‘Four o’clock?’
Alex
smiled. He hadn’t known hours could melt away so quickly either.
Libby
was a different person away from her work—not cool or reserved at all. They’d
talked about the places they’d travelled. The different aspects of their chosen
sports. He’d learned more about her background, growing up on Sydney beaches
with parents who cared about her and her dreams. Even now he couldn’t imagine
what it must be like to be the product of a happy home. Made him wonder for the
first time about being a parent himself.
What
kind of father would he make? Would he be overly protective because of his
unhappy history or would the shadow of William Wolfe try to descend upon and
direct him as it once had his older brother?
During
their recent phone conversation, Jacob had opened up. He’d explained how he’d
become increasingly agitated after the court case involving the death of their
father and had jumped down poor Annabelle’s throat that last day he’d spent at
Wolfe Manor twenty years ago. Jacob had been afraid that if he stayed, he’d
become the monster their father had been.
If
Alex had been Jacob, he’d have run too. Better than filling his siblings, who
had looked up to their oldest brother, with loathing and fear. He supposed they
all had their crosses to bear, scars from their childhood at Wolfe Manor, but
perhaps none more than Annabelle. While Jacob had been there to save her that
dark night, Alex had been the brother who had unintentionally sent his
beautiful twin to face a horrible fate. It was all so many years ago and yet
lately the memories had become more vivid. Harder to escape or play down.
Clearly
because he had too much time on his hands.
With
renewed energy, he set the bottle back in its ice bucket. ‘What say you give me
a lesson?’
Libby
was folding her napkin. ‘Lesson?’
‘Surfing.’
He cupped his right shoulder. ‘Might be just what the ol’ boy needs.’
She
held his gaze before pushing her folded napkin away. ‘There’s lots of
professionals who teach for a living.’
‘I
was thinking more for fun.’
A
diversion. Like today.
She
sent a mild censuring look. ‘We’ll stick to our regular exercises.’
He
persisted. ‘After listening to your surf tales, I’m obviously missing something
pretty special.’
And
he couldn’t think of anyone he’d rather have teach him. He couldn’t think of
anyone he’d rather see in a bikini. Or out of one, for that matter.
Although
he understood Libby’s attire during their sessions was meant to match her
professional demeanour, those long white drawstring pants she wore weren’t
terribly flattering. Once in a while a sensible pair of shorts wouldn’t hurt; a
not so sensible pair wouldn’t either. Unfortunately he couldn’t see a change of
wardrobe during work hours. Which meant he’d need to suggest some outing that
would invite a less …
restricted
look.
Yes.
He wanted to see more of Libby and, after today, he believed she’d like to see
more of him. Most importantly, this spending time outside of work-related
matters had eased his mind about China. The open, supportive Libby he’d come to
know today wouldn’t hold him back. And rather than pushing his point and
possibly getting her back up, now he thought it wiser to simply keep her onside.
When the time came, just as she’d accepted today’s invitation to lunch, she
would also give his shoulder an early checkmark.
After
signing the bill, Alex escorted his lunch date outside. They passed a wall
displaying the restaurant’s logo—a shimmering pearl bedded in a clamshell.
‘If
you were known as a mermaid,’ he said, his palm coming to rest against her
lower back, ‘I’m betting pearls are your bling of choice.’
As
she’d done earlier, she wound away from his touch. ‘I’m not so much into jewellery.’
He
cast a doubtful look. ‘I thought every woman was into diamonds, at least.’
‘Not
this woman.’
Her
smile was almost tight, which, after such a relaxing lunch, made him wonder.