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  Quickly, she headed down the stairs, pausing at the bottom when she realized that Gordon had already got there first, and had thrown open the door. The sight of Diane Wakefield standing on the doorstep was a shock to say the least.

  Now what, thought Victoria, as she pasted an automatic smile on her face.

  Chapter Six

  Diane Wakefield was a hard woman to figure out. Victoria put up her guard, her courteous smile never leaving her lips as she responded to the older woman’s equally polite veneer.

  “I think I like what you’re doing with the place,” she said, as they walked through the house. There’d been a look of surprise on her face when she’d seen Gordon at the door. Victoria had thanked him and quickly attended to her visitor, who still sent him curious looks as he excused himself to get back to work.

  “Thank you,” Victoria said. “I didn’t want it to lose its homely, welcoming feel. Most of the work that needed to be done was mostly cosmetic. There was never any real damage to the house.”

  “I can imagine so,” Diane said, her slightly thin lips curling somewhat. She lifted a framed picture from the shelf. They were standing in the living room, which was almost completely renovated.

  “How much of your family history do you know, Victoria?” she asked suddenly, turning to the younger woman, who shrugged.

  “Not as much as I should, surely. I’m not even sure who’s in that picture,” she said, nodding to the framed photograph of a young girl dressed in a pretty dress and hat, smiling into the camera. It was a black and white photo, so it was hard to tell the color of the dark-looking hair.

  “That’s Mary. Your mother,” Diane said, glancing at Victoria. “I think she was almost eight here. We were both brought up in this house, you know.”

  Once again she looked Victoria’s way, and this time her eyes had a flash of accusation. That same guilt she kept feeling of late, pricked Victoria’s conscience. Guilt for wanting to sell, and for wanting to leave it all behind. She tamped it down as silly; she had to keep remembering she was only being practical. That was the keyword here.

  “Our mother raised us all on her own – just like I hear your paternal grandmother raised you. Our parents were divorced, and then my father remarried. It just seemed less hassle to stay with our mom all year round. I loved this house,” Diane said with a sigh, her eyes lifted as she swirled round slowly on her heels. “It was the only real home I knew. The only place I felt a real sense of family. With my dad and his new family, I always felt like the outsider, the unwanted child. Mary and I never felt unwanted here.”

  “But then my mother left – for America,” Victoria supplied. While Diane spoke, her normally stern face had softened, her lips looked less pinched. Now, they thinned once more.

  “Yes, for university. She got a scholarship to Yale – where she also met your dad. A year later, she was pregnant, with you. They never got married, did they?”

  “No,” Victoria replied, her voice quiet. “But they were very much in love, till the day they died.”

  Diane looked thoughtful. “My parents never approved of the match, apparently. Not so much because your father Nick was black, or American, but because she was so young. Barely nineteen when she left England, and by twenty, she was a mother.”

  “I don’t remember anything of either of my parents,” Victoria confessed. “I was barely five when they died. I lived with my mother, and had never really got to see my dad growing up. I know they were still trying to get together, and make the relationship work. But it was never to be.”

  Diane had turned to regard Victoria’s drawn, tight expression, and her voice had softened when she replied, “I understand how you must feel – considering that they’d decided to meet and talk about their relationship when they got killed in that car crash. It was a sad time - for all of us, believe me. I don’t think our mother ever got over it.”

  For the first time since they’d met, Diane gave her a real smile. “Mother was happy that you kept the Wakefield name. It made her feel you were truly part of the family, no matter what.”

  “It’s great to think I made her happy in any way,” Victoria said softly. “I would have wanted to know my maternal side of the family. I wish I’d tried harder before now to do so.”

  “Maybe that’s why she left you the house,” Diane said, her smile looking somewhat forced now. “I’ll confess I’ve been wondering how come; it’s been weeks since the reading of the will but I’m still not over the shock of losing my home.”

  “Diane….”

  Diane cut through, lifting an elegant hand. “Maybe I exaggerate; it hasn’t been my home since I was a young girl. I’ve been married, divorced, and my kids are in their teens. Mary was the elder sister, and she would have got the house if she’d been alive. So it seems only right that in the end, it should fall to you.”

  She smiled once more, very warmly, as she suddenly took Victoria’s hand, surprising her. “I’m having a dinner party tomorrow. A bit fancy, but I’m sure you won’t have a problem with that. It’s a fundraiser for one of my favorite charities. I’d love you to come, have a taste of the London society.”

  How could Victoria possibly refuse? “I’d love to come,” she said with a return smile.

  There was a sound in the doorway, and both women turned to find Gordon in the doorway.

  “Sorry to interrupt, ladies,” he said with a charming smile, “But I just sent the men home, Victoria. We’re done for the day – but I still need to run some details by you before I leave. Just a progress report for the week just completed.”

  “That’s fine, Gordon. You’ve met him, haven’t you, Diane; his name is Gordon Dorchester. He’s the contractor working on the house?”

  “Ah yes, the handsome gent who let me in,” Diane said, smiling. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Dorchester. I’m Diane Wakefield, Victoria’s aunt.”

  “Please, call me Gordon. And it’s a pleasure to meet you, too.”

  Diane nodded speculatively as they shook hands, before turning to Victoria. “I’ll let you finish with Gordon. I can see myself out dear, never mind. But don’t forget the dinner party tomorrow night. And oh, you’re free to bring someone along.”

  She sent Gordon one more little smile, before she left them in the living room.

  Victoria heard the front door shut minutes later, and turned to Gordon with an embarrassed smile. She kept thinking of her little dream just a while ago. Looking up at him and imagining him undressed, in her bed like he’d been in her head, was making it hard to meet his eyes and stay focused. It had been days since that tense moment in this very living room, when a bare-chested Gordon had set her hormones blasting through the roof. He was more decorously dressed, changed from his work clothes to clean and casual gear.

  “So. You were saying, about the progress report?” she asked airily.

  “Yes…the house. I think you’ll be glad to know that we just may be able to bring the completion date forward. To say, by the end of a fortnight. It would be finished and ready for sale. You could start looking out for buyers as soon as you like.”

  “Oh.” Victoria wondered why her voice didn’t sound more enthusiastic. Gordon was giving her exactly what she wanted to hear, right? Soon, it could be all over. She should be happy about that.

  But she wasn’t. Not as much as she’d thought she’d be.

  “You seem disappointed,” he said, smiling a little as he shoved his hands in his pockets. “We’re going as fast as we can, Victoria. I could bring in more men, but I’d much rather work on this myself. I really like this house; it’s been fun working on the project. For many reasons.” His eyes glinted as they bored down into hers, and she found herself feeling a bout of shyness. Gordon did that to her sometimes. Especially when there was that hint of flirting on his side. He never said much in words, but the look in his eyes…it could give a girl hope. What could he be waiting for, she wondered? Why didn’t he make the move?

  “I’m glad to hear it’s all not
just a chore for you,” she said, shoving a hand self-consciously through her hair. “And trust me, I’m not complaining about the speed. Your work has been beyond reproach, Gordon. And when I think of how reasonable your fee is, I can’t help but wonder what I could possibly do to thank you for your help.”

  “No thanks required,” he told her smoothly. “In my line of work, sometimes simply getting the chance to work on a promising home is satisfaction in itself. Although, there is one thing…”

  “What?” Victoria said eagerly.

  “It’s nothing really – just that I need your professional advice. Abbey mentioned about you being an interior designer. I just acquired a small house which I’ve spent the last few months painstakingly restoring. It was in pretty bad shape. I finally got to complete work on it about a month ago, but now I need to get it decorated. I’d love for you to see the place and give me your opinion. It’s in the country, and I was thinking of going for a Mediterranean style, but…like I said, I need advice. Do you think you could spare the time?”

  “I’d love to,” was Victoria’s prompt reply. “I think I’ll be free on Sunday, is that okay? As you may have overheard, I have a dinner party to attend tomorrow, so Saturday’s out.”

  “Sunday’s perfect,” he said, with a wide grin. “I’ll pack a lunch and maybe we could explore some of the countryside close to the property. I’d really like to show you around since you’re more or less a foreigner in these parts.”

  “Exactly,” she agreed, laughing softly. “And it’s kind of you to offer, Gordon. I’d love that.”

  Her smile was more natural, her feeling of unease around him completely dissipated. He was a cool guy, no doubt about that. She could see them getting along just fine as friends - if she could just get past how she wanted to jump into bed with him every time he opened his mouth. That gravelly accent of his was still as lust-inducing as it had been the first time she’d heard it. If they were going to spend any amount of time together, even casually, then she would have to rein herself in.

  Keep it simple, Victoria, her inner voice warned her.

  But then the next moment, she heard herself blurt out, “The dinner party – would you like to accompany me? As a friend?”

  He was going to refuse, of course, she told herself firmly. Especially as it had come out like she hadn’t put any thought into it – which she hadn’t. Why on earth would he want to be her date at what could possibly be an awkward situation, for her at least? Being a guest at Diane’s home, meeting people in an environment she wasn’t used to, could be far from peachy. But he was the first person that had come to mind that she’d want to go with.

  “Sounds like fun,” he said, flashing one more of those devastating grins. He looked so young when he smiled like that. “It doesn’t seem fair to unleash you unto “London society” without some sort of back-up. Like you said, I couldn’t help overhearing Diane giving you the invitation. And I’d be glad to be the one on your arm, so to speak. In fact, I’ll be looking forward to it.”

  Victoria couldn’t hold back her pleased smile. She’d right; he was cool. And there was that look in his eye she was getting used to: challenging, watchful. Had she been right in her inward assumption that he was waiting for something? Waiting for her?

  You’re ridiculous; as always, she told herself, as she saw him out soon after. Why did she always have to think that men expected something of her? Just like with Jeff, who she still believed was still single just because he was hoping they could still get something going.

  Oh no, Jeff! She thought suddenly. She was supposed to ring him at a certain time that day, due to the time difference. She’d missed a few of his calls lately, and had promised to get in touch at nine pm his time. Would he still be awake? The call was already more than an hour late. She tried a few times, and just as she’d feared, the ringing went unanswered. After three tries, she gave up with a regretful sigh. Tomorrow, definitely, she vowed to herself.

  Walking up the stairs in the now empty house, Victoria decided to take a long, warm shower, curl up with a hot cup of cocoa and the most tedious paperback crime novel she could lay her hands on. That was surely enough to send her to sleep, absent of red-hot dreams of a certain blond-haired, jewel-eyed man…

  Chapter Seven

  Gordon Dorchester was not much of a ladies’ man.

  At least, he didn’t consider himself as such. If he had more than his fair share of female admirers, it wasn’t something he set out to accomplish. It just happened.

  Most times, he took it in his stride. He saw what he liked, he went for it. And he liked a lot about Victoria Wakefield.

  Truth be told, there wasn’t anything about her he didn’t like.

  He remembered the first time they’d met. Abbey had needed a favor, and he’d been glad to oblige. Even with his workload booked for months, he’d taken one look at Victoria and decided he’d take on the job himself.

  He’d already broken rule number one when it came to his work: never apply sentiment, no matter what. But alas, it looked like he’d been doing that since the project began.

  And now, he was taking her to a dinner party. This would be his chance, if he wanted one, to make his move.

  He’d certainly held back well enough so far. Every time she was near, just catching a whiff of her soft, tantalizing perfume that lingered in the room after her, was enough to get him rock hard. It would have been embarrassing if he wasn’t so good at concealing his deepest feelings. And the way Victoria made him feel…

  It hadn’t been this way for him in a long time. To see her was to want her. He came in everyday knowing that he was punishing himself, having her so close but never doing anything about it. He could feel her equal attraction for him, and part of him was reluctant to take advantage of that. There was every chance she wouldn’t turn him away if he tried anything.

  But that wasn’t his style. That’s not how he wanted it to be between them. For some reason, he wanted it to be different with Victoria.

  And he knew why when she opened the door to his ring that fateful evening of the dinner party.

  *

  “Hi,” she said, her voice slightly husky as she swung her gaze over him. For heck’s sake, even the way she looked at him set him on fire. Gordon couldn’t tear his eyes away from her, either. Her dusky skin glowed in the light of the hall way, and the beauty of her in that moment caught his breath. The sweet loveliness of her face could not be denied. To him she was a woman who’d never need to worry about her looks, either now or if she was a hundred. Those timeless cheekbones, that burnt-sugar complexion, would stand the test of time.

  She was all womanly tonight: her dark curls done up in an artless topknot, her dress a feminine, form-flattering purple, sweeping her generous hips. Her firm, shapely bust was lightly hinted by the dipping neckline, giving a glimpse of her delicious cleavage. In her matching purple pumps, her smooth, long legs seemed to go on forever. He was enchanted.

  He drew in a bracing breath, and along with it came her maddeningly sexy scent. That smell…could make a saint forget his vows of chastity. Gordon wanted nothing more than to crush her curvy frame to him, and capture her perfectly pouty lips in a deep, eating kiss. Lord help him, tonight was going to be a trial.

  “Hmm, nice,” she told him, her brown eyes twinkling in undisguised appreciation as she finally lifted her gaze to meet his. It was at that moment, he decided, that he fell in love with Victoria Wakefield.

  ***

  If she’d had any doubts about asking Gordon along, it disappeared the moment they arrived at the elegant, high-toned gathering.

  Victoria had forgotten what it felt like to be the center of attention. To walk into a room and have all eyes turn to her, again and again.

  Diane had a beautiful town mansion, in one of the most posh London suburbs. Victoria could remember Abbey mentioning that after Diane’s divorce from a rich banking millionaire, she’d got a huge settlement that enabled her to live in the height of style. Vi
ctoria began to realize that perhaps, Diane had been annoyed to have lost the house, but only for sentimental reasons. It looked like she was doing alright by herself.

  Victoria and Gordon both shown into a glittering ballroom, and Victoria felt glad she’d worn her designer, knee-length gown. Her jewelry was simple yet classy, and she was sure it all went well as an outfit. But truth be told, the best accessory she had on was her gorgeous companion, Gordon.

  She’d always known he was hot; the kind of man that would look good in anything, be it a three-piece bespoke suit, or skin-tight leather from head to foot. Prior to that evening, she’d mostly seen him in casual clothes he worked in: jeans, tees, and plaid or denim shirts. But there was nothing “working man” about him tonight.

  He looked…well, like a million bucks. One would think he was some kind of celebrity the way people at the dinner came forward to shake his hand, or took pictures of them both. She remembered Abbey had called him a “catch”, and that he was well known in his field. She couldn’t help feeling impressed, and filled with admiration that he seemed so laid-back even with all the attention. He seemed quite comfortable in his obviously expensive clothes, his golden hair sleek and well cut. His tanned skin was the perfect palette for his dark suit which suited him just right.

  Victoria had been so taken in by his impeccably fitted attire, that she’d been unable to hide her admiration when he’d shown up at the door to pick her up earlier. She could remember saying something about how good he looked, and the smile he’d given her had curled her painted-up toes encased in her heeled pumps.

  The attraction between them was now impossible to deny. No matter what else about them was different, the dynamics were the same: he was man, she was woman. Soon, either one of them would have to take the plunge.

  Chapter Eight