she squeaked. She couldn’t believe this man—his background as a Thornton apart, if it ever could be!—a man who, if he really believed in destiny, must know he was destined to be one of the greatest artists of the day, actually wanted to marry her.
He didn’t know anything about her, or her early years in an orphanage, even more years than that in different foster-homes, the time after that when she had struggled to attain even enough secretarial qualifications to get suitable work. Her job as receptionist at Thornton’s Hotel was her most prestigious yet. And now the man who half owned that hotel was telling her he had taken one look at her and decided he wanted to marry her. It was unbelievable!
‘You, Lucynda Smith,’ he confirmed determinedly. ‘And before my exhibition goes on I’m going to convince you that you want to marry me too!’
* * *
And he had convinced her, effortlessly; it had been impossible not to fall in love with him, to be there when he needed her. The two of them spent every moment they could together from that very first night, to make sure he didn’t forget to eat altogether when he became engrossed in his painting—she had finally gone out that first evening and bought them a take-away Chinese meal!—to marvel in the passion of his lovemaking, their physical response to each other almost overwhelming in its intensity.
By the end of their first month together the painting of Cyn had been completed even to Wolf’s own exacting demands—and Cyn had proudly worn his engagement ring on her finger.
She knew exactly what had happened to that sapphire and diamond engagement ring; she had given it back to him only weeks later.
But what had happened to the painting of her? And the other paintings he had had completed in his studio too? Because there had been no exhibition of Wolf’s work during that summer, or any other as far as Cyn was aware. And she had looked out for Wolf Thornton paintings during the following years, had both dreaded, and longed, to see his work again. But there had been no Wolf Thornton paintings on display, ever.
What had happened to Wolf...?
‘WOLF can be—difficult,’ Rebecca told her awkwardly.
Tell me about it, Cyn thought ruefully, remembering all too clearly that last conversation she had had with him. Not that she could tell this girl about that.
The two of them had met for lunch as arranged, and almost as soon as their food had been ordered Rebecca had launched into an explanation as to why she had thought it best to talk to Cyn in privacy concerning her wish not to hurry the wedding arrangements. Cyn had sat quietly and listened to it all during the soup course—the claim again that there was plenty of time yet until the wedding, that the invitations didn’t need to go out for weeks yet, that Rebecca knew exactly what sort of wedding-gown she wanted, bridesmaid’s dresses too, and they could all be made a bit nearer the time. Besides, Rebecca had added lightly, she wanted to lose a bit of weight before the wedding, which only meant the wedding-gown would have to be altered to fit her if it were made now.
Looking at her, at Rebecca’s slenderness already bordering on delicacy, Cyn didn’t think the other girl needed to lose any weight at all, just as she didn’t think any of these excuses had anything to do with Rebecca’s request for space and time over the wedding arrangements. Although she still hoped the young gardener wasn’t the real reason for Rebecca’s reluctance to get the wedding arrangements under way.
‘Difficult?’ she echoed the girl’s description now, Rebecca having once again been defending the fact that she would rather Wolf knew nothing of this conversation.
A flush darkened Rebecca’s cheeks, almost the same vivid red as her shoulder-length hair. ‘He wouldn’t understand my need for—well, less haste,’ she explained awkwardly. ‘He might think it was a reluctance to marry him at all that’s prompted these—feelings.’ She couldn’t quite seem to meet Cyn’s sympathetic gaze.
‘And might he be right?’ Cyn prompted gently.
‘Certainly not!’ Rebecca protested instantly—too instantly? ‘I’ve told you my reasons for not wanting to be rushed.’ She was becoming agitated now, absently crumbling the bread roll that had accompanied her soup, seeming unaware of the fact that she was totally demolishing it. ‘Wolf is a wonderful man. Wonderful,’ she repeated shakily. ‘And he cares for me very much.’
‘And you?’ Cyn watched the younger girl with narrowed eyes; there was something very wrong here, no matter what Rebecca might try to claim to the contrary. ‘Do you care for him very much in return?’
‘Of course,’ Rebecca told her defensively, her eyes deeply blue. ‘Why else would I be marrying him?’ she asked lightly.
Why else, indeed? Cyn’s feelings of unease about the whole situation had increased as she talked to Rebecca, and she had not been reassured. She didn’t doubt for a moment that Rebecca truly cared about Wolf, the affection was there in her voice when she talked of him, but did she care for him the way a bride should care about the man she was going to marry in four months’ time? That was the question. And it was one Cyn wasn’t really in a position to ask without totally offending someone who should, after all, have been just another client to her. The fact that Rebecca wasn’t, and, in the circumstances, never could be, was something the girl was totally unaware of. And would remain unaware of!
She gave Rebecca a warm smile, trying her best to relax her as their soup bowls were removed and their main course was brought over to them; although if Rebecca ate as much of that as she had the soup and roll they might as well remove the plate now! Which posed another question; was Rebecca’s appetite always this tiny, or was it the strain she was obviously under that was causing it?
‘Maybe you should try talking to your fiancé about this,’ Cyn broached again cautiously. ‘He’s sure to understand if you explain— No?’ she frowned as Rebecca shook her head at the suggestion before she had even finished.
‘It isn’t only Wolf,’ Rebecca sighed. ‘Daddy would be so disappointed if—’ She chewed on her bottom lip, looking very unhappy. ‘He and Wolf are great friends.’
That was exactly what Gerald had claimed about Rebecca and Wolf! But no matter what Gerald might think to the contrary, people who were friends, just friends, shouldn’t really be contemplating marrying each other. Not when the girl involved obviously had more than a passing interest in her father’s gardener... And the more Cyn talked to Rebecca the more convinced she became that this was the main reason for the other girl’s reluctance to start her wedding arrangements. The mere idea of it seemed to make it too real to her...!
‘Your father isn’t the one marrying Wolf,’ she pointed out drily.
Rebecca gave a wan smile in answer to Cyn’s attempt at humour. ‘No,’ she acknowledged slowly. ‘I had the distinct impression that my father’s interest lay somewhere else entirely.’ She gave Cyn a speculative glance.
Rebecca’s own emotions might be in turmoil, but obviously that hadn’t prevented her being well aware of what was going on in her father’s life too! And how neatly she had turned the tables on Cyn. Maybe this girl was a fitting wife for Wolf, after all; she certainly knew how to stand up for herself when the situation presented itself.
Cyn’s cheeks were the ones to feel hot
