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He shook hands briefly with Chris.

Carmen noticed the fine cut of the clothes. Smart, business-like. Yet the fitted black suit only emphasized the fine male physique it clothed. He was toned, the shape of his shoulders and torso drawing her eye. The open-neck shirt beneath his suit was crisp and charcoal in color. His thick black hair was swept back from his forehead but fell forward as he moved. He pushed it away with one hand as he approached her.

“Carmen, you’re more beautiful than ever.” Ducking down, he pressed a kiss to her cheek.

The casual brush of his mouth on her skin unnerved her. “Rex, hello.”

She crossed her leg at the knee while smoothing her skirt down. Rex stared at her blatantly as he took the seat next to hers, watching her legs as she rearranged her position. The look in his eyes was far too intimate and possessive to be respectable.

Oh, how that used to make her want him—back when she had no sense. Not anymore. She’d grown up since then. She knew what was good for her and the list did not include Rex Carruthers.

He seemed alert and focused, she noticed. The week before, when she’d stood opposite him across his father’s grave, he’d been somber and deep in thought, as one might expect. He and his father never made up their differences. Did Rex regret it? He’d barely nodded at the mourners who spoke with him. Only at the end, when he looked her way, had his expression changed—marginally—his eyes hooded and dark with secret thoughts.

Rex avoided the social gathering at the Manor after the funeral, which meant they hadn’t had a chance to talk. And now here they were, and he was the personification of suave, the self-assured urbane man. She couldn’t let him distract her from her goal, so she pulled her attention away.

She looked at their mediator, who had returned to his seat. “Chris, I have another meeting to attend later today. Can we get on?” Asserting herself was a deliberate move. She had an important deal to discuss. “We’re already running late.”

Chris didn’t have a chance to respond.

Rex reached out and took her hand in his. “Always in a hurry, Carmen. Let’s get comfortable before we get down to business.”

He flashed his eyes at her.

She arched her brows at him. He always did like to spar, but if he was going to play the bad boy at a time like this she’d find negotiations difficult. “Rex!”

She tried to sound chastising, but her voice came out sounding breathless.

He lifted his hands in apparent surrender. He didn’t stop looking at her though. His appraisal was undisguised.

“Besides,” she continued, unnerved, directing her comment to Chris. “I’m sure the contents of the will have very little to do with me—”

“I’m sure it has very little to do with me, either,” Rex interrupted. “After all, I was disinherited years ago.” He stared at her deliberately, making a point.

Carmen frowned. Rex had no siblings, so she’d assumed he would inherit the estate. Despite the rift, Charles Carruthers was deeply traditional at heart. She’d only come to the reading because she was ready to buy Rex out. Rex had never been interested in Burlington Manor, whereas she had a deep connection to the place. She’d been happy there

and wanted to recapture those feelings. She looked back at the solicitor. “Chris?”

Chris pushed his glasses up onto the bridge of his nose. “Good. Well, as you’re both aware Charles Carruthers and I were old friends. He moved all the family’s legal work to me to help me get off the ground when I was starting my own practice here in London, back in the 1980s. There’ve been several alterations to his will over subsequent years, but I’m familiar with his intentions. There are several bequests for staff. I’ve arranged to see them later today because you might want the contents of the will to remain confidential for the time being.” He paused. “Those that relate specifically to you both, until you decide what to do about it.”

Puzzled, Carmen looked at Rex.

He shrugged.

She shook her head to indicate she hadn’t a clue what it might be.

His stare lingered on her.

She noticed it too – they were able to communicate silently, as they had done so many years ago. It reminded her of sitting opposite him at the dinner table at Burlington Manor, and how he used to make her smile with the slightest expressive glance.

“Should you have any questions at all,” Chris continued, “please just ask.”

Carmen forced her attention back. “The staff will be concerned about the estate being sold,” she stated, curious he’d opted to deal with the staff separately.

“I daresay they are.” Chris gave her a genial smile.

She wanted to state her intention to buy the estate, to own it and keep the staff in their jobs, no matter what. Once they’d heard the contents of the will she could flag it up.

Chris lifted the papers on his desk. “This is the last will and testament of Charles Denton Carruthers.”

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