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moment. She read intent in his eyes and slowly straightened. ‘You’re here to see me?’

      His demeanour confirmed it, but he nodded anyway. ‘Yes.’

      ‘I see.’ She turned to stare back down at the river. ‘Actually...’ She frowned and sent him a sidelong glance. ‘I don’t see.’

      He folded his tall frame and leaned on the railing, too. She dragged her gaze from his strong, hawk-like profile, afraid that if she didn’t she might reach across and kiss him.

      ‘I heard about your father.’

      She pursed her lips, her stomach churning like the currents below. ‘You didn’t send a card.’

      He didn’t say anything for a moment. ‘You send me a Christmas card every year...’

      He never sent her one.

      ‘Do you send all your ex-lovers Christmas cards?’

      She straightened. ‘Only the ones I marry.’

      They both flinched at her words.

      In the next moment she swung to him. ‘Oh, please, let’s not do this.’

      ‘Do what?’

      ‘Be mean to each other.’

      He relaxed a fraction. ‘Suits me.’

      She finally looked at him properly and a breath eased out of her. She reached out to clasp his upper arm. She’d always found it incredibly difficult not to touch him. Through the fine wool of his suit jacket, she recognised his strength and the firm, solid feel of him.

      ‘You look good, Jack—really good. I’m glad.’

      ‘Are you?’

      ‘Of course.’ She squeezed his arm more firmly. ‘I only ever wanted your happiness.’

      ‘That’s not exactly true, though—is it, Caro?’

      Her hand fell away, back to her side.

      ‘My happiness wasn’t more important to you than your career.’

      She pursed her lips and gave a nod. ‘So you still blame me, then?’

      ‘Completely,’ he said without hesitation. ‘And bitterly.’

      She made herself laugh. ‘Honesty was never our problem, was it?’ But the unfairness of his blame burned through her. ‘Why have you come to see me?’

      He hauled in a breath, and an ache started up in the centre of her. ‘Hearing about your father’s death...’ He glanced at her. ‘Should I give you my condolences?’

      She gave a quick shake of her head, ignoring the burn of tears at the backs of her eyes. Pretending her relationship with her father had been anything other than cold and combative would be ridiculous—especially with Jack.

      ‘You don’t miss him?’

      His curiosity surprised her. ‘I miss the idea of him.’ She hadn’t admitted that to another living soul. ‘Now that he’s gone there’s no chance that our relationship can be fixed, no possibility of our differences being settled.’ She lifted her chin. ‘I didn’t know I still harboured such hopes until after he died.’

      Those blue eyes softened for a moment, and it felt as if the sun shone with a mad midday warmth rather than afternoon mildness.

      ‘I am sorry for that,’ he said.

      She glanced away and the chill returned to the air. ‘Thank you.’

      The one thing the men in her life had in common was their inability to compromise. She couldn’t forget that.

      ‘So, hearing about my father’s death...?’ she prompted.

      He enunciated his next words very carefully and she could almost see him weighing them.

      ‘It started me thinking about endings.’

      Caro flinched, throwing up her arm as if to ward off a blow. She couldn’t help it.

      ‘For pity’s sake, Caro!’ He planted his legs. ‘This can’t come as a surprise to you.’

      He was talking about divorce, and it shouldn’t come as a shock, but a howling started up inside her as something buried in a deep, secret place cracked, breaking with a pain she found hard to breathe through.

      ‘Are you going to faint?’

      Anger laced his words and it put steel back in her spine. ‘Of course not.’

      She lifted her chin, still struggling for breath as the knowledge filtered through her that just as she’d harboured secret hopes of reconciling with her father, so she had harboured similar hopes where Jack was concerned.

      Really? How could you be so...optimistic?

      She waved a hand in front of her face. The sooner those hopes were routed and dashed, the better. She would never trust this man with her heart again.

      She lifted her chin another notch against the anger in his eyes. ‘You’ll have to forgive me. It’s been something of a morning. We had the reading of my father’s will yesterday. Things have been a little...fraught since.’

      He rubbed a fist across his mouth, his eyes hooded. ‘I’m sorry. If I’d known, I’d have given you another few weeks before approaching you with this.’ His anger had faded but a hardness remained. His lips tightened as he glanced around. ‘And I should’ve found a better place to discuss the issue than in the middle of Westminster Bridge.’

      She had a feeling her reaction would have been the same, regardless of the where or when. ‘You’ve just been to my flat?’ she asked.

      He nodded. ‘I was going to catch the tube up to Bond Street.’ It was the closest underground station to where she worked. ‘But...’

      ‘But the Jubilee Line is closed due to a suspicious package at Green Park Station,’ she finished for him. It was why she was walking. That and the need for fresh air. ‘I’m on my way to the flat now. We can walk. Or would you prefer to take a cab?’

      * * *

      Jack didn’t like Caro’s pallor. Rather than answer verbally, he hailed a passing cab and bundled her into it before the motorists on the bridge could start tooting their horns. The sooner this was over, the better.

      Caro gave the driver her address and then settled in her seat and stared out of the side window. He did the same on his side of the cab, but he didn’t notice the scenery. What rose up in his mind’s eye was the image of Caro when he’d first laid eyes on her—and the punching need to kiss her that had almost overwhelmed him. A need that lingered with an off-putting urgency.

      He gritted his teeth against it and risked a glance at her. She’d changed.

      It’s been five years, pal, what did you expect?

      He hadn’t expected to want her with the same ferocity now as he had back then.

      He swallowed. She’d developed more gloss...more presence. She’d put on a bit of weight and it suited her. Five years ago he’d thought her physically perfect, but she looked even better now and every hormone in his body hollered that message out, loud and clear.

      After five years his lust should have died a natural death, surely? If not that then it should at least have abated.

      Hysterical laughter sounded in the back of his mind.

      Caro suddenly swung to him and he prayed to God that he hadn’t made some noise that had betrayed him.

      ‘I hear you’re running your own private investigation agency these days?’

      ‘You hear correctly.’

      Gold gleamed in the deep brown depths of her eyes. ‘I hear it’s very successful?’

      ‘It’s

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