Serving cocktails at Blakely’s, a casino in the West End, was hardly her dream job, but the tips were good, and right now she couldn’t even contemplate looking for something else.
Besides, whatever she did it wouldn’t—couldn’t—be what she really wanted to do.
But she wasn’t going to think about that now, and with relief she watched as Susannah reappeared holding a tray. As well as a pot of coffee, she had brought a plate of biscotti, and as she slid it onto a low table, Dora had to clench her hands in her lap to stop herself from grabbing one and stuffing it into her mouth.
‘Thank you. This looks lovely.’
Susannah smiled perfunctorily. ‘Mr Muir asked me to tell you that Mr Law has just arrived and they will be up shortly.’
Dora nodded. This Mr Law must be some kind of senior partner for everyone to be so excited about him.
‘It’s quite funny if you think about it...being called Law and being a lawyer. It’s like being Mr Bun the Baker.’
Stop babbling, she told herself. But the other woman’s poise and perfect skin were so intimidating it was making Dora feel nervous all over again.
‘I suppose that’s why they left his name out when they named the company. I mean, it might confuse people.’
Susannah stared at her, then frowned. ‘Mr Law—’
‘Is here. Thank you, Susannah.’
Peter Muir strode into the room, smiling broadly. But Dora was still too busy trying to understand the expression on the other woman’s face to look properly at the man following him. She’d seemed confused, or astonished, but there was no time to ponder why.
‘And this is Ms Thorn.’
Standing up, Dora smiled automatically and held out her hand, but her smile wavered as the second man took a step towards her.
She felt her jaw slacken. Breathe, she told herself as she stared up at him.
Given the reverence surrounding him, she’d been expecting an older man, but he was young, in his mid-thirties at most, and that on its own dazzled her momentarily.
But her surprise was forgotten almost immediately as two thoughts collided in her head. The first was that, quite frankly, he was the most beautiful man she had ever seen in her life. The second, disconcertingly, was that he seemed strangely familiar.
But clearly, judging by his lack of reaction, Charlie Law was not experiencing a similar sense of déjà vu.
Or maybe she was dreaming, she thought. Since Della’s death her nights had been full of vivid, confusing dreams that jolted her awake in the darkness.
But this man was real, fiercely controlled and superbly male.
Sleek dark hair, high cheekbones and a subtle curve of a mouth fought for her attention, and heat spilled out slowly over her skin, almost as if she was standing under a warm shower.
Inclining his head slightly to the left, he let his cool dark eyes lock onto hers, and she felt something unravel inside her as his hand curved around hers, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through the tips of her fingers.
His grip was firm, yet not aggressively so. But, aside from mesmerising good looks, he had an air of authority that meant he clearly felt no need to resort to traditional male posturing.
Her insides tightened. She couldn’t seem to breathe properly, and her heart was thumping so hard she could feel it hitting her ribs.
It wasn’t the first time she had locked eyes with a man. But he was the first man to look at her so intently that it was impossible to look away. It felt as if he was reaching inside her.
Only that wasn’t what made a shiver run down her spine. As his dark eyes slowly inspected her from head to toe, she realised with a beat of shock that Charlie Law both desired and disapproved of her.
Her shoulders tensed.
She was familiar with both reactions—just never from the same person at the same time. And she found herself taken aback by his censure. Why would he feel that way about her, a stranger?
She held her breath as his gaze hovered on her face momentarily, and then he turned towards the lawyer. ‘Thank you, Peter, I think I can take it from here. That is if Ms Thorn has no objections?’
Dora felt the tension in her shoulders inch down her spine.