up triumphantly.
Lia had no idea what she would have done without Cathy and Rick after her father died. The two women had been friends since attending the same boarding school from the age of thirteen, and Cathy was as close to her as the sister she had never had. Closer, if what she’d heard about sisterly rivalry was true.
Luckily Cathy worked as an estate agent, and was responsible for helping Lia find this affordable apartment. But, even so, there was only so much advantage she could take of Cathy’s friendship.
‘You should go home to your husband now,’ she encouraged as the two of them sat on a couple of the boxes drinking their wine. ‘Rick hasn’t seen you all day.’
Rick Morton was one of the nicest men Lia had ever met—as much of a friend to her as Cathy was, especially this past two months. But the poor man must be longing to have his wife and his apartment to himself.
‘Are you sure you’re going to be okay?’ Cathy frowned.
‘Very,’ Lia confirmed warmly.
Rick had been persuaded to go off and enjoy a football match with his friends that afternoon. A welcome break for him, it had also allowed the two women to move Lia into her new home. But there had to be a limit to how much and for how long Lia could intrude on the couple’s marriage.
‘I’m just going to unpack enough to be able to make the bed and cook myself something light to eat before I go to sleep.’ Lia gave a tired yawn: it had been a long day. ‘I don’t just have a new apartment to organise, but a new job on Monday morning to prepare for too!’
Cathy slipped her arms into her jacket. ‘You’re going to do just fine.’
Lia knew that. After the past two months she had no doubt that she was capable of looking after herself. Nevertheless, she still had to fight down the butterflies that attacked her stomach whenever she thought of all the changes in her life since her father had...died. She still choked over that word—probably because she still couldn’t believe he was gone.
And he wouldn’t be if Gregorio de la Cruz hadn’t withdrawn De la Cruz Industries’ offer to buy out Fairbanks Industries. The lawyers might have presented that death knell to her father, but there was no doubt in Lia’s mind that it was Gregorio de la Cruz who was responsible for the withdrawal of that offer.
Her father had watched the decline of his company for months and, knowing he was on the edge of bankruptcy, had decided he had no choice but to sell. Lia firmly believed it was the withdrawal of the De la Cruz offer that had been the final straw that had broken him and caused her father’s heart attack.
Which was why all of Lia’s anger and resentment was now focused on the man she held responsible.
Futile emotions when there was no way she would ever be able to hurt a man as powerful as Gregorio de la Cruz. Not only was he as rich as Croesus, but he was coldly aloof and totally unreachable.
The man had even been accompanied by two bodyguards at her father’s funeral, for goodness’ sake. They hadn’t been able to prevent Lia from slapping him, though. Was that because Gregorio de la Cruz had allowed it? He had certainly indicated that the two men should back off when they would have gone into protection mode.
She was thankful it had been a private funeral, and that there had been no photographs taken of the encounter to appear in the newspapers the following day and stir up the media frenzy once again. There’d been enough speculation after her father’s sudden death without adding to it with her personal attack on Gregorio de la Cruz.
Nevertheless she had found a certain satisfaction in slapping the Spaniard’s austerely handsome face. Even more so at seeing her blood streaked across his tautly clenched cheek.
As the days, weeks and then months had passed, and Gregorio de la Cruz’s chilling promise that they would talk again hadn’t come to fruition, Lia had mostly been able to put the man out of her mind. Just as well, because she only had enough mental energy to concentrate on the things that needed her immediate attention. Such as packing up the house, with Cathy and Rick’s help, and finding herself an apartment and a job.
But she had successfully done all those things now—including securing a job as a receptionist in one of London’s leading hotels.
Having no wish to start answering awkward questions from a prospective employer or, even worse, become the recipient of sympathetic glances that just made her want to sit down and cry, Lia had applied for several jobs under the name Faulkner—her mother’s maiden name.
Nevertheless, she had no doubt it was her years of being the Amelia Fairbanks that had given her the necessary poise to secure her job. The manager of the hotel had obviously liked her appearance and manner enough to give her a one-day trial. He had admitted afterwards to being impressed with her warmth and the unflappable manner with which she’d dealt with some of their more difficult clientele.
The poor man had no idea she was usually on the other side of the reception desk, booking in to similar exclusive hotels all over the world.
So—new apartment, new job.
Cathy was right: she was going to be just fine.
But not if one of her new neighbours was going to ring her doorbell at nine o’clock at night, when she was soaking in a much-needed bath after having pushed herself to empty half a dozen of the boxes once she’d eaten a slice of toast.
It had to be one of her new neighbours, because Lia hadn’t sent out new address cards to any of her friends yet. It was the next job she had to do—once she had unpacked completely and arranged her furniture ready for receiving visitors.
Not that she expected there to be too many of those. Amazing how many people she had thought were friends had turned out not to be so once she was no longer Amelia Fairbanks, daughter of wealthy businessman Jacob Fairbanks. Even David had broken their engagement.
But she refused to think about her ex-fiancé now!
Or ever again after the way David had deserted her when she’d needed him most.
Going to answer the door wrapped only in a bath towel was far from the ideal way to meet any of her new neighbours, but it would look even worse if Lia didn’t bother to answer the door at all. It must be obvious she was in from the amount of noise she’d been making unpacking boxes and moving furniture around.
Impatient neighbours, Lia decided as the doorbell rang again before she’d even had chance to wrap the towel around herself.
She might be new to living in an apartment, but she knew at least to look through the peephole in the door before opening it. Except she couldn’t see anyone in the hallway—which meant they had to be standing out of view. Well, there was always the safety chain to prevent anyone from coming in if she didn’t want them to. And she didn’t want them to. She was nowhere near ready—or dressed!—to receive visitors.
The reason her visitor had been standing out of the view of the peephole became obvious the moment Lia opened the door and saw Gregorio de la Cruz standing in the hallway!
‘I do not think so.’ He placed his handmade Italian black leather shoe in the six-inch gap left by the door chain, effectively preventing Lia from slamming the door in his face.
‘What are you doing here?’ Lia demanded, her hands gripping
