LITMIR.BIZ

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disappearance five years later—had split her family apart.

      She’d been ten at the time. Her father had begun to talk of nothing but a female client who’d come to his legal practice. One day he had announced that he was to marry the artist he’d been defending—and that his bride and her twelve-year-old son would be moving in. It was only then that Laura had realised George must have divorced her mother.

      Tony, up till then the adored and spoilt only son, had been scarlet with fury at the news. For her, the arrival of Bathsheba and Cassian had been a revelation. Suddenly the house had burst into life with colour and laughter and music and Laura had quickly become familiar with the smell of turpentine mingling with that of the herbs and spices of exotic dishes.

      But almost immediately there had been titanic rows over Cassian’s behaviour. Laura could see him now; a silent and glowering boy who couldn’t behave conventionally and who’d refused to fit into the community.

      Vividly she recalled his defiance in the face of Aunt Enid’s rigid rules and the way he’d disappeared for days, seemingly existing without food or comfort.

      And while she’d envied his independence and stubborn refusal to be anyone other than himself, she’d feared that very freedom he exemplified. He had been untameable, with an adventurous, bohemian past and he came from a greater world than she or her friends could ever know or understand.

      And so they were strangers to one another. She had admired and watched him from afar, wishing she had his nerve, envying his daring.

      As he had grown into a young man, the depth of his inner assurance had attracted the girls like bees to a honeypot. He was the local Bad Boy, and women longed to be noticed by him. One or two were. The chosen dazed and dazzled girls had huddled in Grassington square, discussing with awe the passion they’d unwittingly unleashed, while she’d listened in horror.

      And, she was ashamed to say, with a secret excitement. Not that she’d want to be part of his life at all. He scared her though she didn’t know why, and she couldn’t fathom what made her heart race whenever she set eyes on him.

      It was quickening now, bringing a flush to her cheeks. Squirming with dismay, she took a cautious peek out of the window. Cassian had resumed talking to the removal men, one foot on the low wall, an expressive hand gesticulating as he described something.

      A strange exhilaration caught hold of her, something that coiled warm and throbbing in her veins. She stared, mesmerised. Cassian had charisma. He had always been different, magnetic, special.

      Laura shot a glance at Sue. Even her sensible, down-to-earth friend was gazing open-mouthed at him, her expression nakedly admiring. And Sue was in a state of tension, her fingers gripping the curtain tightly.

      Just as she was, Laura thought in surprise, releasing the creased curtain in embarrassment. She didn’t like being disturbed like this and she felt uncomfortable that her nerves were jiggling about all over the place.

      Why should he make her pulses leap about so erratically? It didn’t make sense. Oh, he was good-looking enough in a foreign kind of way. Handsome, she supposed. But so were many other men who’d walked into the hotel where she’d worked: young, affluent and personable, and she’d been indifferent to them. And they to her, of course!

      Bemused, she scrutinised him carefully in an effort to solve the mystery. And felt her fascination go up a notch or two. His hair was still dark—black and gleaming with the richness of a raven’s wing—but it was shorter now, the rebellious curls sleekly hugging the beautiful shape of his head.

      His face… Well, those high cheekbones and carved jaw would make any woman’s heart beat faster coupled with the dark, intense eyes and sexily mobile mouth. She suppressed a small quiver in her breast.

      ‘What’s he doing?’ hissed Sue.

      ‘Don’t know.’

      Her voice had been hoarse because his liquid and relaxed gestures had caused the muscles to ripple beneath his black T-shirt in a way that left her breathless.

      ‘He’s beautifully toned,’ Sue whispered, eyes agog. ‘Not over-developed—just perfect. Wow! And he used to be so skinny.’

      No, Laura wanted to say. He was always strong and wiry. But she didn’t want to betray her ridiculously chaotic hormones by speaking. His shoulders and chest had certainly expanded. Cassian’s torso was now a devastatingly attractive triangle of powered muscle and sinew.

      She watched him, her eyes wide and puzzled. He was more than just a perfect body. He…

      She stiffened, suddenly realising what drew her to him. Cassian possessed what she—and many others—might search for all their lives. Something that money couldn’t buy. Total self-assurance.

      She let out her tightly held breath. Cassian was sublimely at home in his own skin, whereas she had lived in the shadow of someone else’s rules and had moulded her behaviour to the will of others. She was someone else’s creation. He was his own.

      And she longed to be like him.

      Suddenly he laughed, and she felt a sharpness like a vice in her chest as she was almost bowled over by the sheer force of life which imbued his whole body—his brilliant white teeth flashing wickedly in the darkness of his face, the tilt of his chin, the warmth in those hot, dark eyes.

      ‘Now that’s what I call sex appeal!’ Sue whispered in awe. ‘Isn’t he like his mother? What was her name?’

      Laura swallowed and found a husky voice emerging. ‘Bathsheba.’

      ‘Unusual. Suited her.’

      ‘Exotic,’ Laura agreed.

      His mother had been the most beautiful and vibrant woman she’d ever known. Bathsheba had dark, wavy hair, eyes that flashed like scimitars when she was happy, and a face with the same classically chiselled bones as Cassian’s.

      For the five years that Bathsheba had been her stepmother, neither she nor Cassian had taken much notice of her. But then Enid had kept them apart as much as possible.

      And tragically, during the time that Bathsheba and her father were together, Laura had witnessed how two people could love one another but be incapable of living with one another. They were torn asunder by their differing views—particularly where the disciplining of Cassian was concerned.

      ‘Bathsheba and Cassian vanished overnight, I remember,’ Sue mused.

      Laura nodded. ‘They walked out into the night, taking nothing with them! I was appalled. I wondered where they’d live, how they’d cope. George never recovered, you know.’

      Her eyes softened. It seemed incredible that one person could have such an effect on another. Her stern, unbending father had died of a broken heart. She shivered, shrinking from the destructiveness of passion. In her experience, it had never done anyone any good.

      ‘Well, Cassian’s got over his feelings about Thrushton. He’s coming up the path!’ Sue marvelled. ‘Oh, why does something riveting like this have to happen, when I’m going on holiday tomorrow?!’

      Laura couldn’t believe her eyes. ‘He’s hardly likely to stay long. He hated this house!’ she said, feeling an irrational sense of panic. ‘This can’t be a social call. He never noticed me, hardly knew I existed. And he just loathed Tony—’

      She gasped. A key was rattling in the lock. There was a pause. Cassian must have realised that the kitchen door wasn’t locked at all. The latch was lifted. Laura couldn’t breathe. Why did he have a key?

      The door creaked open a fraction. And then it was flung back with considerable force.

      In an instant, the room seemed to be filled with him, with the blistering force of his anger. She cringed back instinctively by the half-concealing fall of the curtain, afraid of his potency and bewildered by the physical impact he had on her.

      Cassian simmered with a volcanic rage as he scanned the kitchen with narrowed

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