woman moved elegantly into the room, taking in the scene of the young girl by the Christmas tree standing gazing wide-eyed at the dark doctor on whose arm she now laid an authoritative beige kid glove.
To Lara, she seemed the palest woman she had ever seen. Pale blonde hair and pale pink lips and nails. Pale grey eyes. Even her clothes were pale. A beige coat of the softest leather, with cuffs and collar in some pale fur. Lara chewed on her lip just a little—fancy having the nerve to wear fur in this day and age!
The woman was speaking now; she had a low, American drawl. ‘Cat got your tongue, Nick? Aren’t you going to introduce me?’
For the briefest moment he actually looked uncertain, something which somehow surprised Lara, then came that smile again.
‘This is Lara King, my father’s nurse. Lara, this is Annabel Hummerstone—my fiancée.’
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