Authors: CC MacKenzie

The Fall Of Jacob Del Garda (13 page)

A small voice told her this was what she’d wanted, wasn’t it? Why she’d left him in the first place.

With a sob of utter despair she buried her face in her hands.

The heavy sliding door in her bedroom was open to let in a warm early autumn breeze.

And she heard the wind in the trees, the rhythm of life.

Rolling into a ball, she let the sound soothe her.

And Gabriella now wondered how the hell she’d made such a mess of things.

She’d hurt, devastated, the man she loved more than life.

And killed his love for her.

How could she have been so incredibly stupid and made a disastrous situation even worse?

How could she gone from having it all to having absolutely nothing?

Chapter Twelve

As he left Jacob had told a worried Sophie that Ella needed rest and he'd be back later. But by the tone of his voice, and the deadly look on his face, things hadn’t gone well between Jacob and her sister.

Tobin had disappeared somewhere, too, thank goodness.

Sophie didn't want to breathe the same air, never mind share a house with the man.

Again the old hurts rose to spear her heart.

Bastard.

Why was she so bent out of shape? Sophie asked herself.

Tobin had every right to be here.

But she hadn’t had time to erect her usual defences to his charismatic presence.

And Sophie had to admit time had been good to the son-of-a-bitch.

He looked even better these days, which only annoyed her even more.

Plus he had that long, lean, Californian beach bum look going on.

Along with the don’t-mess-with-me attitude that he’d adopted around her since he'd arrived.

Although Sophie couldn’t say she was particularly impressed with the too long hair, with the blonde highlights and tied at his neck.

Or the fancy clothes, designer of course; nothing but the best for Tobin Gillespie.

She’d clocked the Piaget watch, too.

He even smelled expensive.

And it irritated her, the little spark of attraction that burned hot in her belly, her psyche, and in her heart.

She needed to have her stupid head examined.

Lost in thought and finding herself with nothing to do, Sophie decided to leave her sister to rest, and made her way to her favourite room of any house, the kitchen.

She needed to do something with her hands.

An hour later, she checked the oven timer, and slid out a batch of Gabriella's favourite, chocolate chip cookies.

God knew her sister desperately needed feeding.

Sophie had decided long ago that the human mind was a strange and mysterious thing. The harder a person tried
not
to remember something, the stronger the memories became.

Sophie permitted the old feelings, the old memories, to wash over her.

Three years ago, she’d adored Tobin Gillespie.

The good times, and they had been good together until... well, no point in digging in that ditch. But her mind refused to listen and flew back to the day the man she’d given her heart and her soul to, destroyed both.

In slow motion, inexorably, she re-lived the precise moment it all fell apart.

God, she'd been too young, she realised now, remembering the giddy excitement at the unexpected pregnancy, and the rush to Tobin's New York apartment to surprise him. They loved each other, she’d told herself. Grinning like a fool, she'd used her key to enter his home, softly closing the door behind her.

He’d be shocked, but in a good way.

She couldn’t wait.

Then as she'd tip-toed down the long hallway, she'd halted to listen to a sound.

It had been the low groan from his bedroom that had her heart beating too hard.

And then a female’s high cry.

Confused, Sophie had gently pushed open the bedroom door.

Her mind had acted before her eyes fully registered what they were seeing.

A snapshot of how Tobin had looked now flashed into her brain.

His fair head had been thrown back against white pillows, long muscular legs spread wide. And between those legs a head had bobbed, while Tobin's hands had clutched the sheet.

But it had been the look on his face that was forever imprinted in her memory.

It had been ugly.

His white teeth had been bared like an animal as he'd climaxed. His eyes glazing with a satiated lust that looked positively pornographic.

Even now, nausea roiled in her stomach at the memory.

Was that what Tobin had looked like when he'd made love with her?

In Sophie's mind, seeing him like that, had degraded their love making.

Turned something she’d believed to be beautiful, into a thing to be ashamed of.

She’d turned and fled and never looked back.

The pain of betrayal was so fresh in her mind and her heart, it brought her spinning back into the present.

Sophie gripped the edge of the sink.

Jesus, after three years she should be over it by now.

Over him.

In a protective gesture, her arms folded over her flat stomach and she shuddered.

For three months after she'd witness his betrayal, she’d endlessly debated with herself whether or not to tell Tobin he was going to be a father. He had a human being's right to know. But his sexual exploits, played out daily in the tabloids, had closed her heart to him forever.

And Sophie had decided that her child deserved better than a posturing tom-cat for a father.

Then alone and terrified in a strange country with no family or friends, she'd endured the hellish agony of miscarriage. Her connection to the child growing inside her had been deep and true. And the loss of her baby had broken something deep inside her. Never again would she let a man get too close to hurt her like this.

Now, with trembling fingers, Sophie swept bitter tears from her cheeks.

Logic told her the feelings of vulnerability and heightened emotions she was going through were because Gabriella needed her and she was scared to death of losing her sister. Plus, she'd met Tobin again. The day's events, she assured herself, had simply brought long buried memories of another loss and toxic emotions to the surface.

The arguments Gabriella had made on the phone to Sophie on Tobin’s behalf had been brutal. But Sophie had been too upset, too devastated, to listen. No one knew about her baby. And Sophie never told her sister what she’d witnessed in Tobin’s apartment either. She couldn’t destroy the friendship between her sister and Tobin. Gabriella’s star had been in the ascendant, and there was a good chance that a rift with him might have de-railed her sister's success.

Sophie couldn’t do it to her.

Now she took a shaky breath.

Three long years.

It was a lifetime.

Tobin must be thirty-four now, she mused, biting into a cookie as she settled and calmed herself.

Yes, the years had been good to him. His PR company, in partnership with Lucas Del Garda, spanned the globe. He had models, actors and sports stars on his books.

Age hadn’t diminished his mad, bad and sexy-as-hell good looks either.

Of course he knew it.

She’d tried not to notice how the black jeans fitted certain parts of him like a glove.

Or how his white cotton shirt, unbuttoned at the neck and rolled up at the sleeves, enhanced the long tanned arms and lean hands.

Sophie nibbled on her cookie.

Oh yes, she did like a man with nice hands.

And she knew exactly what those hands had felt like stroking her... Okay... Enough!

Moving to the giant stainless steel fridge, Sophie poured herself a glass of white wine, a large one, and took a deep gulp.

But she had to give Tobin good marks for never hitting on Gabriella, they were and always had been, friends. These days it appeared Tobin Gillespie only dated good time, party girls who knew the score.

She knew he’d had a tricky childhood. His late father had been a controlling tyrant and he’d had a submissive mother who’d died in his teens.

The young Tobin had had no anchor in his life.

Highly intelligent, charismatic and dedicated to his business, Tobin was extraordinarily loyal to his few friends. Friends he regarded as family. And Sophie knew that he counted Gabriella as one of them.

Shame he hadn’t been as loyal in his relationship with Gabriella's sister then, the bastard.

She took another sip of wine and told herself it was only natural that Gabriella wanted him here, she needed him.

The scene in his bedroom that had burst the old Sophie's immature romantic bubble, swirled like an evil genie around her memory.

After three years, the agony of losing her baby hadn’t diminished and Sophie wondered if it ever would.

But she refused to give into a private pity party.

Pride stiffened Sophie’s spine.

Reaching for the wine glass, she thought again, and rose instead to pour herself a coffee from the pot.

After all, she’d done well without him, without help from anyone.

Working like a dog she’d got her master's and thrown herself into work.

In Africa, she’d found her niche and solace with the World Health Organisation, working on that scourge of that beautiful continent, malaria, and the insects that spread the disease, mosquitoes.

And she’d met a lovely, lovely man.

Although she'd made a helluva big mess out of that relationship, too.

The pang of guilt made Sophie wince.

There was no point in going down that rocky road either. Again she decided that there must be something fundamentally wrong with her. Jason was gorgeous, smart and loving. And he’d loved her. He'd adored her. So what the hell was her problem? Why couldn’t she love him back?

And the answer made her even more furious with herself.

She’d never got over Tobin.

At the very least, she’d never achieved closure as the shrinks called it. Well, now was not the time or the place to be thinking of this stuff. Tobin would never understand her work or the need for it. He was a party animal. The Teflon man... no woman stuck to him.

But Sophie never indulged in self-delusion either and admitted to herself that after the way her body had reacted, in spite of his betrayal, in spite of everything, the old attraction was still there.

Damn it.

Hormones and chemistry that was all it was. And in her case, they overrode common sense and intellect every time.

Which meant that for three years she’d kept away from Tobin. And from necessity Gabriella, too. And that was a disgrace, Sophie admitted now. The way she'd treated Jason had been a disgrace, too.

Heartsick, she wondered what sort of woman was she that she could still feel attraction for a man who’d destroyed her capacity to love another?

"Sophie?"

He’d startled her, Tobin realised, as she flinched and jerked away.

"Yes?" Hazel eyes met his and they were so cold and dead it felt as if he was talking to an iceberg. And it seriously annoyed him.

His jaw clenched.

Gabriella wanted him here, but Sophie sure as hell didn’t.

Well tough titty, because he’d just signed the deal to buy this little piece of heaven from Nico Ferranti. This was his house and Sophie was a guest in it.

"Let’s clear the air around here, shall we?" he said now. The way her eyebrow rose, the small sneer marring her full mouth, made his hands itch to shake her until her teeth rattled.

"I don’t give a rat’s ass about your feelings towards me," he continued. "But you’ll damn well be pleasant and polite to me in my own home."

Sophie simply lifted her chin.

He received a look of such utter contempt it had him blink in bewilderment. He hadn’t seen or spoken to her in years. What the hell was her problem?

"I’ll clear the air all right. My sister is vulnerable." The undisguised disgust in her tone yanked hard at his fraying temper. "She doesn’t need a sleazy opportunist and media whore taking advantage of her."

What?

Cold fury made Tobin take a step forward.

His eyes narrowed and mutual loathing created a dark, malevolent atmosphere in the kitchen.

"Where the
fuck
did that come from?"

Heat flared in her cheeks, then drained away, leaving her too pale.

Shit.

He never swore at a women.

Shock widened her hazel eyes as trembling fingertips touched her lips.

She’d been crying, Tobin realised belatedly.

And anger with her leaked away leaving him with nothing but utter frustration with the situation he found himself in with Sophie, yet again.

A wave of dè já vu swept over him, every single conversation they’d had since their break-up ended like this.

She sank into a chair at the table, and closed her eyes.