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Embarrassment, hot and sharp, speared through her impressionable teenage soul. “Oh… I…”
“Carrie was kind enough to make me a snack,” Gael responded with a quiet yet unmistakable note of condemnation.
Alexandra was oblivious to his disapproval. “Yes, well, if there’s food about, my daughter is guaranteed to be somewhere nearby.” She rolled her eyes in a failed attempt at humour and pressed her lips to Gael’s cheek. “I’m glad you’re here, anyway.”
Carrie couldn’t help but notice the way her mother’s red-painted fingernails dug into Gael’s broad shoulders; nor did she miss the way they lingered for longer than was necessary. “Goodness,” Alexandra said with a lilt of admiration in her voice. “Anyone would think you spent your days sweating in a field rather than slaving away behind a desk. You’re all muscle, Gael.”
He stood, shoulders squared, body tense.
Behind them, Carrie’s young teenage heart was experiencing its first rush of agonising, confusing heartbreak. Her mother, so beautiful she only had to look at a man to have him fall at her feet, was creating the impression that she wanted Gael to join the hordes of her admirers. Carrie told herself it didn’t mean anything, that it was just Alexandra’s way of interacting with men, but the sensual flirtation still hurt.
“I have some reading to do,” Carrie said quietly, not sure if either of them heard her, initially, for neither reacted.
It was only as her feet crossed the threshold of the door that she caught her mother remarking, for Gael’s benefit, “She spends too much time reading, if you want my opinion. A run wouldn’t kill her.”
Carrie didn’t linger to hear Gael’s reply. Stupidly, hot tears stung her lilac eyes. She knew her mother just wanted the best for her, and that it was impossible for someone like Alexandra Beauchamp to comprehend that anyone could be happy in a figure that wasn’t supermodel svelte. Especially not one as curved and rounded as Carrie’s teenage shape. But the judgement, at times, stung. Particularly when it served to reinforce Carrie’s own insecurities about her appearance.
Ensconced in her bedroom, she pulled an emergency stash of chocolate from her rucksack and selected a single bar. She peeled the wrapper off and breathed in the heady scent before taking a lingering bite. She groaned as the sweet taste sent waves of calm through her body.
Bite by bite and bit by bit, her equilibrium righted itself.
Alexandra meant well. She hadn’t intended to embarrass Carrie, only to apologise for her ample roundedness. Carrie was the one who should feel bad, for never being able to match what her mother expected of her. What a burden it must be, to look like Alexandra did, and have someone as ordinary and unfashionably curvaceous as Carrie for a daughter.
She pushed the wrapper into the waste bin and pulled Persuasion from beneath her pillow. In the pages of Jane Austen’s witty observances, she found even greater release. So much so that when she realised it was time to join her mother and Gael for dinner, it was with far greater composure than she’d left them with earlier in the afternoon.
CHAPTER TWO
Gael studied the two women with well-concealed interest. The mother was like so many women he’d met before. Stunning and obviously aware of the fact, she was designed to corner a man’s attention and hold it. With her body and her nature, she was a woman men would go to war for. He was almost thirty, and known for his taste in women, and even he couldn’t fault his father’s choice of bride. At least when it came to beauty.
As for the daughter, Carrie was an entirely different type of person. He watched broodingly from across the table as she lifted her water glass and sipped it, her pale pink lips soft and full against the rim. She replaced it on the table, and snuck yet another furtive glance at him.
Her crush was obvious.
Sweet, and well-intentioned, but totally unwanted. She had changed, since they’d danced at the wedding. It was remarkable, the difference that eighteen months could make. Then, she’d been child-like and innocent. Now? There was still an obvious innocence to her, but her curiosity and interest showed her sensual awakening. That he was a person of interest to her in the midst of that did not sit easily on his shoulders.
He had not come to England to flirt with either his stepmother or his stepsister. He had come to see the man who had given him life; the man who would surely not last much longer.
Diego was weaker than he’d expected. Weaker, and pale, and devoid of any of his usual acerbic disapproval. It had disturbed Gael, to see the man in such poor health.
He had not been close to his father for many long years, but still it shook him to realise that he might have seen him for the last time. He thought of the specialists he’d engaged, who would soon descend on Forrest View, and held out hope that something could be done. If not for his prolonged life, perhaps at least for his comfort.
“Darling?” Alexandra reached over and padded a fingertip across Gael’s hand. “Have some more wine.”
He shook his head, and broke the intimate contact, on the pretence of lifting his glass to his lips. “Thank you, I’m fine.”
Alexandra’s bright red lips twisted into a ‘suit yourself’ smile as she loaded a third beaker of Pinot Noir and raised it to her mouth. Her eyes locked with his over the rim of the glass, and she sipped it with slow, purposeful intent.
“I’ll have some,” Carrie interrupted quickly, her eyes wide as they shifted from her mother to Gael.
“You? Drink?” Alexandra’s laugh was shrill. “Good heavens, I had no idea my perfect little daughter had an interest in alcohol.”
Carrie’s cheeks flashed pink. In truth, she’d never had more than a sip of cider. She bit down on her lower lip and reached for the bottle at the same time as Gael. Their fingers connected and she almost jumped out of her chair at the shockwave of desire that flared inside of her.
“Allow me,” he murmured, pouring a very small amount into her glass.
“Thank you.” She stared at the deep red liquid rather than meet his eyes. She lifted it to her lips, too embarrassed to back down from drinking it now. It was not as bad as she’d imagined. Fruity and rich, with a slightly acidic after taste. She covered a cough with the back of her hand.
Gael watched this young woman, so obviously desiring to be seen as an adult, and had to hide a smile. He’d never experienced that longing. He’d been thrust into adulthood before he’d been ready, though he hadn’t known or understood that at the time. He’d simply been glad to be away from his father; to be able to operate under his own steam.
