Every now and then, when he found the time, he’d visit to remind himself that money wasn’t the only thing in life worth appreciating. Yes, it gave a person a lot more options if he had it, but it didn’t buy happiness. God knew he’d learned that to his cost over the years.... The contemplation of beauty and art ‘soothed the troubled soul’, as one wise guide at the museum had put it to him once, and although he would never dream of sharing such a view with any of his colleagues, Gabriel had agreed. That was why he admired the artists who created it.
But his admiration of Lara’s beauty was set aside as he entered the kitchen. It was indeed as homely as he remembered. And the old-fashioned stand-alone fixtures and fittings, including the 1930s pillarbox-red AGA, straight away transported him right back to when he and Sean had been young.
He recalled with fondness the countless delicious meals Peggy Bradley had made for them—in particular during that seemingly ‘endless’ summer when he and Sean, in between revising for their exams, had laughed and joked together, listened to the music of their favourite bands, mercilessly teased Lara and generally enjoyed being young and free of care, not burdened with responsibility as so many of the adults that they’d known had seemed to be. It had been easy to fantasise then that that those halcyon days would last for ever....
Gabriel’s senses were suddenly awash in a sea of poignant and heartfelt memory. As if to compound his feelings, he saw that the cream dresser was full of engaging family pictures, and taking pride of place was an eye-catching photograph of Sean as he must have looked before he died. His mischievous brown eyes were full of laughter and his wide smile highlighted the chipped front tooth that Gabriel had accidentally broken when he’d too zealously bowled a cricket ball in the garden for him to bat. He had been the closest friend that Gabriel had ever had, and even though he hadn’t kept in touch with him it cut him to the quick to think that he was no longer here....
‘Everything looks just the same,’ he remarked huskily, reaching his hand up to loosen the shirt collar that suddenly felt constricting.
‘Mum and Dad aren’t great lovers of change. They’re old-fashioned like that.’ Lara smiled fondly. ‘Not to mention sentimental. They’ve become even more so since losing Sean.’ Her smile vanished and, clearly needing a moment, she turned towards the sink to fill the kettle.
‘It must have been a terrible shock to you all to receive the news that he’d died,’ Gabriel murmured sympathetically.
‘It was. One minute we were talking to him on Skype, hearing all about the events of his day, and the next...’ Sadly shaking her head, Lara turned off the tap that had been gushing water into the kettle then moved across to the generous granite worktop to plug it into a socket to boil. ‘How do you like your tea?’ she asked, tucking some of her glossy dark hair behind her ear as she turned back.
‘Don’t you remember?’ Gabriel teased, recalling with pleasure the numerous cups of tea an eager-to-please young Lara had made him whenever he’d stayed over or visited Sean. ‘I used to tell you that, next to your mum, you made the best cup of tea in the world.’
‘You did, didn’t you?’ Her generous mouth curved with pleasure. ‘Okay, then, I’ll see if I can remember how you like it. Don’t tell me—just let me have a go. Pull up a chair and make yourself comfortable.’
He didn’t need to be asked twice. This house was the only place he’d ever known that really felt like home, with everything that that word represented.
Jaded and tired from the demands and rigours of inhabiting the soulless world of high finance for what had probably been too many years to stay wholly sane, Gabriel had a secret yearning for some simplicity and comfort in his life. He was frankly weary of the kind of comfort epitomised by the opulent living of a lot of bankers in New York, although he himself had embraced it, thinking it was his ‘due’ for working so hard and making others as rich as he was.
He hadn’t fully explored the realisation, but he was longing for the kind of comfort that might be attained by being amongst people who were authentic, with no hidden agendas and the ability simply to be themselves. In short, people who were naturally good rather than unscrupulously self-seeking.
And even as he had the thought his mind went straight away to Lara’s parents. They had welcomed him into their home without any judgement or expectation when their son had befriended him, and had even expressed their sadness that he’d been r
aised by a wealthy but often absent uncle who more often than not had left him in the care of a hired nanny. They were appalled that Gabriel had never known the joys of growing up in a ‘real’ family as Sean had.
‘Would you like some toast and marmalade with your cuppa?’
‘Sorry...what did you say?’ Blinking up into the melting chocolate-brown eyes of the lovely brunette who was suddenly standing in front of him, for a surreal moment Gabriel honestly forgot who or where he was because she was so enchanting.
Her brow puckering, Lara seemed taken aback that he hadn’t heard her the first time. Perhaps she didn’t know how mesmerising she was? He shrugged. He doubted it. He hadn’t met a beautiful woman yet who wasn’t intimately aware of her own appeal. Beauty was a very desirable cachet in the avaricious world that he inhabited—not to mention an asset. In his opinion every attractive woman who aimed for the top in his profession had no compunction in using such an advantage to the max.
‘I just asked if you’d like some toast and marmalade with your tea....’
‘Just tea will do thanks. Then, if you’ve got the time, I’d like you to sit down and talk to me. We’ve got quite a bit of catching up to do. It’s been years since we’ve seen each other, Lara, and as well as talking about Sean I’d like to hear what you’ve been doing with yourself.’
‘Okay.’ She chewed down on her lip, as if taken aback by the invitation. ‘But didn’t you say you’d just flown back from New York? Don’t you need to at least relax and unwind for a little while after your flight?’
Gabriel couldn’t help but smile. It seemed that the once self-conscious and unsure teenager had inherited some of her mother’s endearing natural ability to think of others’ needs first. It wasn’t something he often came across in his world—if ever—and he had to admit it was appealing. But he could just imagine the response of his more cynical male colleagues should they meet Lara and be exposed to her kind disposition for very long. They’d wonder if she was ‘for real’.
‘I assure you that right now I don’t need to do anything else other than be here with you, Lara.’
If ever a man’s statement had sounded more seductive and appealing then Lara hadn’t heard one. And the huskily low-pitched velvet cadence of Gabriel’s deeply arresting voice couldn’t help but render the words even more provocative. Her insides felt as though they’d suddenly been heated by a fiercely burning erotic flame. Could it be that her teenage fascination for this man hadn’t died with his rejection of her at that party, but instead had been quietly simmering inside all these years?
The realisation was akin to standing on a crumbling cliff edge and frantically trying to maintain her balance. It had been thirteen long years since she’d seen this man. She knew nothing about his life now, or what had transpired in the years since they’d last met, and she was pretty certain that if he had any interest in her at all at this moment it was only because of his past association with her family.
For all Lara knew, the man could be happily married to a stunningly perfect model wife in New York—the kind epitomised by the glossy magazines—with a brood of pretty blue-eyed offspring to boot. Her stomach helplessly churned at the thought.
‘All right, then. I’ll make us some tea and then we’ll catch up. Just don’t expect any tales of adventure or excitement. I live a very quiet and ordinary life that’s probably miles away from how you live yours.’
Giving him a faintly wry smile, she moved back across the kitchen to the granite worktop and hurriedly arranged the teapot and matching china cups and saucers on a tray. But her hands were visibly trembling as she poured hot water onto the tea leaves, and her heart was pounding as though it would never be at ease or calm again....
They moved into the living room to drink their tea, and Lara opened the generous-sized patio doors that led out onto the garden so that they might enjoy the sunshine. She also didn’t want to miss the opportunity of hearing the birds sing. That was one of the reasons why early morning had always been her favourite time of the day.
‘You’ve made it just how I like it,’ her handsome visitor announced, taking a sip of his tea as he lowered his long-limbed frame down into one of the comfortable Chesterfield armchairs. ‘You’ve got a good memory.’