Page List


Font:  

‘Well, something is bugging you.’ Raffe interrupted his musing. ‘And the sooner you get over it the better for everyone. Anyway, back to business. I have just come back from London and everything is going smoothly and very profitably. A new contract has been signed to provide the Saudi Arabian government with the components they want.’

‘Good. And Paxton? Is he behaving himself?’ Zac asked, in the hope that Sally might be mentioned. Not that it mattered. His mind was made up: he was going to London to get her…

‘Yes, though I never did understand why you kept him on just because his wife was in a nursing home. You are not usually so generous to a thief. Actually, it is immaterial now, as apparently his wife died a few months back. He took a couple of weeks’ compassionate leave and returned to work, so there is nothing to stop you firing him now, which is no more than he deserves.’

‘And his daughter?’ Zac demanded, leaping to his feet. ‘Sally? Has anyone been in touch with her? Offered our sympathy? Anything at all?’

‘I should have guessed!’ Raffe exclaimed. ‘The short temper, the irritability—it all makes sense. Your problem is the very lovely daughter, and that is why you let Paxton stay. I’m right, aren’t I?’

Zac gave him a quelling look. ‘Shut up, Raffe, and order the jet. I’m going to London.’

Five days later Zac walked out of the British Museum, almost defeated. Sally appeared to have vanished off the face of the earth. His first shock had been the discovery that she had sold the apartment and left no forwarding address. The estate agent who had handled the sale had been no help, except to tell him the apartment had been on the market for a couple of months. Sally had never mentioned the fact, but he realised now where she had hoped to get the money from to pay him back, which made him feel even worse.

He’d had a long talk with her father, but he had no idea where she had gone and didn’t care. Her boss had informed him she was on a year’s sabbatical. He had not heard from her yet, but she had said she would keep in touch. Finally Zac had swallowed his pride and contacted Al, and he had told him Sally had left to go on a month-long tour of Peru. But that had been over a couple of months ago, and he had no idea where she was going afterwards.

Zac paused by the Bentley, the lines of strain etched deep in his face as he pondered on what to do next. He had called on her boss a second time in the hopes he might have heard from Sally, but no joy. A private detective was the next step, he decided, and was about to get in the car when a young woman approached him.

‘Excuse me, but are you Mr Delucca?’

He was going to ignore her—until she added, ‘My boss told me you were looking for my friend Sally…’

Sally didn’t notice the big black car parked fifty yards further up the road as she turned her car into the drive and stopped. She slid out and picked up her shopping bag, which contained the new phone she had purchased along with other items. There was a smile on her face as she walked up the short garden path to the cottage she had rented in the seaside town of Littlehampton. Once, as a six-year-old, she had spent a weekend in a hotel here, with her mother and her grandma, and it was one of the most treasured memories she had of her childhood.

Her whole life had changed from the moment she had fainted at the ruins of Machu Picchu. Joan Adams, a retired doctor she had got to know well as they were the only single females travelling with the group, had pointed out that it was unlikely the thinness of the air had affected a fit young woman like her, and had suggested she might be pregnant. At first Sally had denied the possibility, but as the tour had continued and the morning sickness had started, Sally had had to reconsider.

She had thought long and hard on the flight back to England. Further travelling abroad was out for the foreseeable future, she’d decided, but that did not mean she had to stay in London.

Jemma had let her stay with her for the time it took Sally to buy a new car and pack up most of her belongings, and had accepted Sally’s excuse that rather than travelling abroad she wanted to see more of her own country.

She had spotted a picture of the cottage in Littlehampton in the window of an estate agent in the nearby town of Worthing: for sale or to let unfurnished, with great sea views. Sally had viewed it on impulse, and taken a twelve-month lease on it the next day.

She opened the door and walked into the hall, hung up her coat and, dropping her shopping bag in the living room, she went to the kitchen to make a cup of tea. It was amazing, she thought, how life could take with one hand and give back with the other. She had lost her mum, but was soon going to be a mum…

She had registered with a local GP, and had her first scan at the hospital in Worthing. The baby was well, and the precious picture from the scan was in a picture frame at her bedside. If the baby was a girl she was going to call her Pamela, after her mum; if it was a boy…She hadn’t decided…And she hadn’t decided when she would tell Zac Delucca either.

She made a cup of tea and carried it through into the living room. She placed it on the table at the side of the nearest of the two cream soft-cushioned sofas she had bought that flanked the fireplace. She had opted for side-tables rather than a centre one, to give the illusion of space. Kicking off her shoes and sitting down, she curled her feet up on the sofa and reach

ed for her teacup.

Sipping the hot tea, she supposed she would have to tell Zac Delucca some day—a man had a right to know he had fathered a child—but not yet…Maybe after the birth…

She wanted to savour every minute of her pregnancy in peace, and there was nothing peaceful about Zac Delucca. He went through life like a tornado, sweeping up anything he wanted and discarding the rest. Telling him could wait…

She glanced around the room. The warm, peach-painted walls, the oak ceiling beams and the polished oak floor looked sturdy and timeless, and the large peach, green and cream rug she had bought to put between the two sofas added a cosy touch. She had enjoyed choosing and purchasing the furniture for the living room and main bedroom. The second bedroom was for the baby and she had yet to start on that.

She was into nesting in a big way, she thought happily, and with a year’s lease and the opportunity to buy if she wished she had left all her options open. If she decided to go back to her job in London at the end of her sabbatical she could. Or she could stay here. In the meantime all she had to concentrate on was her baby. With a contented sigh she reached for her shopping and withdrew the box containing her new phone and put it to one side. Then she took out the package containing the baby garments she had bought. She laid the tiny yellow booties and matching hat and jacket on the table, a soft smile curving her lips. It turned into a frown as the doorbell sounded. Reluctantly she got to her feet, padded into the small hall and opened the door…

Chapter Thirteen

SALLY’S mouth fell open, her eyes widening in stunned disbelief on the man standing before her. It couldn’t be…It wasn’t possible…But it was Zac Delucca…

She grasped the doorjamb, her legs suddenly weak and her heartbeat thundering in her breast, and she could not stop the heated rush of awareness flooding through her body as she looked up into his darkly handsome face. She had convinced herself she was over the hateful man, and she had certainly never loved him. That had been a momentary aberration brought about by sex, nothing more. She was content with her new life—and yet just the sight of him made a mockery of her hard-won serenity.

No, she would not allow herself to think that way. She straightened up, squaring her slender shoulders; it was probably her hormones running riot—something her doctor had warned her about—nothing more…

‘Hello, Sally.’ Zac could barely speak as he drank in the sight of Sally with hungry eyes. She stood in the doorway, her glorious red curls falling around her shoulders, her surprise evident in the shocked expression on her face, and emotion clogged his throat.

He looked and looked again. He would not have thought it possible, but she was even more beautiful than he remembered. The almost constant hint of sadness in her brilliant eyes and the faint shadows underneath them had faded away. Her beautiful face was free of make-up and her silken skin glowed with health.


Tags: Jacqueline Baird Billionaire Romance