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When he looked back at Carmen she was staring down at her mother’s grave, which was stationed at the side of his father’s.
Instantly he wanted to be with her. If it hadn’t been for the procession of well-wishers, he’d already be on his way to her side. Soon enough, though, she joined the crowd, and slowly made her way to him.
Christopher Montague, the family solicitor, shook Rex’s hand. “I’ll be in touch about the reading of the will.”
Rex nodded, assuming it was a formality that he attend. His father’s final words to him were that he would never see a penny of the Burlington estate, which suited Rex just fine.
Carmen approached.
Rex’s attention sharpened as he studied her.
“Rex, I’m sorry that we’re meeting under these sad circumstances.” She put out her hand.
Struck by the serene maturity he saw in her now, Rex wondered about the intervening years. He took her hand in his. She was soft and warm and he wanted her. He always had. “It’s good to see you again.”
A wary look appeared in her eyes. She nodded, then withdrew her hand from his and turned away to allow someone else their turn. Rex paused and watched her instead, admiring her as she moved through the retreating crowd.
How strange it was that death had brought them back together, Rex reflected, when she had once been the most brilliant light in his life.
* * *
CARMEN GLANCED AT her watch. Waiting for Rex to arrive for the reading of the will had her on edge. It was typical of him to hold the procedure up this way. Straightening the jacket of her suit, she sat back in her seat and told herself to relax. It was impossible. Where the hell was he?
Facing her—and beginning to look rather impatient on the other side of his desk—was Christopher Montague, the Carruthers family solicitor. He gave Carmen an encouraging smile. Nevertheless, he was drumming his fingers on his leather-covered desktop, clearly disapproving of Rex’s late arrival for the reading of his father’s will. They’d been due to begin half an hour earlier. “I’m terribly sorry about this, Carmen.”
“Oh, please, don’t apologize.” She gave a wry smile. “I’m afraid to say this is the sort of behavior I’ve grown to expect from Rex.”
Eleven years earlier Rex had come into her life, and although Carmen hadn’t spent much time with him recently she’d learned enough about him not to be surprised by anything he did. They hadn’t seen each other for ages, not until the funeral the week before, but long ago they’d been close.
Carmen was fifteen years old when her mother had married Rex’s father. Rex was nineteen. He’d been away at university a lot of the time, which was just as well, because she’d developed a painful crush on him.
Thankfully she’d grown out of that.
It was awkward, growing up as they had. Their parents had met and married when Carmen and Rex were already in their late teens. Rex was rebellious, provocative, and yet he could use his charm when he wanted to. There’d been times when they got on well. Then Rex had clashed with his father over some matter or other. He subsequently walked away from his responsibilities to pursue a career in bespoke engine design for the racing car industry. The gossip she’d heard about him over the intervening years only served to confirm that he lived a wild life. She, on the other hand, had accepted her responsibilities, taking command at her mother’s company after her mother’s death.
Carmen was just about to stand up and take a turn around the office when the door opened and Christopher’s secretary announced Rex had arrived. Carmen didn’t have to look. As soon as he entered the room his presence impacted on her. Chris Montague stood up to greet the new arrival, but Carmen stayed in her seat. From the periphery of her vision she saw his dark, looming figure.
“Carmen, you look more beautiful than ever.” Rex ducked down to press a kiss to her cheek.
It wasn’t what she expected, and the quick, casual brush of his mouth on her skin unnerved her. “Rex, hello.”
She adjusted the lapel on her jacket as he took his seat alongside her and then glanced his way, quickly taking in his appearance. He wore a fitted suit with a white open-neck shirt beneath. The fine cut of the clothes only emphasized his impressive physique. His thick black hair was swept back from his forehead but fell forward as he moved. He pushed it away with one hand. The dark slash of his eyebrows and the angular bones of his face caught her attention fully. It was a rugged face, starkly handsome, with unforgettable blue eyes. Rex had the kind of intense good looks that meant he could have any woman he wanted, as he so often did.
She crossed her leg at the knee while smoothing her skirt down, eager to get this meeting over with. Rex stared at her blatantly, watching her legs as she rearranged her position. When his gaze lifted to meet hers 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 men like 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 stern, as one might expect, but he’d also seemed deep in his own thoughts. He and his father had never made up their differences, was that why? He’d barely nodded at the mourners who spoke with him. Only at the end, when he looked her way as she approached him, had his expression changed—marginally—his eyes hooded and dark with secret thoughts.
She’d left quickly after the briefest of conversations, unsure what else to say. He’d avoided the social gathering up at the manor after the funeral, which surprised her. So they hadn’t had a chance for a proper conversation. And now here they were, and he was the personification of suave, the self-assured urbane man.
Carmen looked to their mediator, who had returned to his seat. “Chris, I don’t mean to be ungracious, but I have another meeting to attend today.
We’re already running late.”
She shot Rex a glance.
Chris didn’t have a chance to respond.
