that email as well.
A year ago her beautiful, kind and gregarious sister had died of a rare and aggressive form of leukaemia. To add insult to injury, Carly’s über-successful boyfriend had been cheating on her instead of being by her side to support her.
Not that she’d really turned to Daniel for support during those months. Being an important cardiologist, he was generally busy and, if she was being honest with herself, their relationship had never been like that.
He had pursued her because he respected her and she had accepted his invitation to go out because she’d been flattered by his attention. Then Liv had become sick and everything had fallen apart. Daniel had become resentful of the time she spent with her sister, questioning her about her movements at every turn and accusing her of cheating on him and using her sister as a ruse.
No matter what she had said, he hadn’t believed her and then she’d discovered that in fact he had been the one cheating on her. On top of all that, everyone at her hospital had known about it and no one had said a word to her. The whole experience had been mortifying.
Feeling the sun burning into her skin, Carly yanked on a pair of cut-off denim shorts, dislodging the slender black velvet jeweller’s box that had arrived for her earlier that day.
Still not quite believing what was inside, she opened it and once more marvelled at the divinely expensive ruby necklace nestled against the royal blue silk lining.
‘To match your hair,’ the card had read, followed by a swirling signature that denoted the sense of importance Benson’s grandson, Beckett Granger, cloaked himself in.
Carly shook her head as she took out the necklace. For a start her hair was more orange than ruby red so if Beckett had thought to impress her with his cleverness he’d be disappointed.
If he thought to impress her with the amount he must have spent on it he’d be disappointed as well. Carly was too practically minded for lavish jewellery and still wore the diamond stud earrings her parents had bought her ten years ago, much to Liv’s disgust.
But she did have to give him points for his approach. The necklace was undoubtedly the most expensive attempt a man had ever made to get her attention and she’d had a few offers over the years. Some had been patients, or relatives of patients, others had been doctors—but Benson’s pompous grandson had taken the cake.
Even if she weren’t still getting over a bad relationship with a doctor with a God complex she would never have gone for Beckett. There was something a little bit slimy about the man. He also had a sense of entitlement a mile wide and at one point, when she’d declined yet another invitation to dinner, she’d been sure he’d been about to stamp his foot.
Since Benson didn’t want anyone to know about his illness, Beckett believed her to be the daughter of an important friend of his grandfather’s but that hadn’t stopped him from cornering her one night when he’d been two drinks past his limit. His attempt at seducing her had been more a nuisance than anything else, and Carly felt sure he would have been embarrassed about it the following morning.
It also spoke volumes that Benson trusted his staff with the information about his illness, but not his own grandson.
Still, the man could have been a god amongst men and she wouldn’t have accepted his attention. She hadn’t exactly sworn off men for ever, but she couldn’t think of anything worse than adding a man into her complicated life right now. Not with the poor judgment she’d shown in the past.
Her father assured her that all she needed was a plan to get her back on track, maybe finish her surgical studies, but Carly wasn’t even sure she wanted to remain in the medical profession, let alone become a surgeon.
The ruby necklace lay heavy in her palm, the sun hot on her shoulders. She’d have to get it back to him as soon as possible, but, while Beckett had entrusted it to the postal service, Carly wasn’t so trusting. She’d much rather hand it back in person.
Spying her cotton shirt under a nearby lounge chair, Carly was about to fetch it when Gregory started yapping as if the grim reaper were bearing down on him.
Carly frowned at the pretentious little dog. All her life she’d brought home orphaned children and injured animals to take care of, her mother even complaining that she would save a caterpillar from a broccoli stalk if she’d let her, but when it came to Benson’s prized Pekinese she had to admit she struggled. The pampered pooch had more of a sense of entitlement than Beckett, but she supposed it wasn’t entirely his fault. Not with the way Benson doted on him.
‘Okay, Gregory,’ she said to him, ‘you’re going to bring the fire brigade if you keep making that racket.’ She frowned as he pulled against his leash. ‘What’s got you so riled up anyway, boy?’
He was looking off towards the forest and Carly made the mistake of following his gaze because while her gaze was averted he did his funny little twist manoeuvre she’d been warned about and slipped his collar.
‘Gregory. No,’ Carly called in frustration. ‘I mean heel. Dammit,’ she muttered as the dog tore off across the lime-green lawn, his caramel and black coat flying back in the breeze. ‘Come back here!’
The last thing she needed was the Baron’s beloved pet getting lost right before his operation. She’d never forgive herself.
Muttering a string of curse words, she shoved her feet into her flip-flops and took off after the cantankerous animal.
Halfway across the lawn she was glad she’d been exercising because she was gaining on him when he ducked through a border of shrubs and into the forested area. Cursing her bad luck, she vowed she’d give him to Mrs Carlisle to make potluck soup with when she got him.
The Baron would never complain about tofu again!
The thought made her smile. He’d been complaining about her menu plan ever since she’d arrived, trying to convince her that French fries and battered fish were fine in moderation for a man in his condition.
‘Gregory, you little pain in the backside.’ Carly shoved low-hanging branches aside and tried not to scratch her bare arms and legs any more than she had. ‘If you get prickles in your coat I’ll send you to that nasty dog groomer again! Gregory, dammit, come on, there’s a good boy.’ She tried to inject warmth into that last command but she wasn’t sure he bought it.
A slight movement had her turning left and she stopped at the edge of a clearing. A family of rabbits lay sunning themselves on a small patch of grass as if they didn’t have a care in the world. It was so lovely she forgot about Gregory until he burst out from behind an old oak tree like a bullet from a gun, scaring the daylights out of her and the unsuspecting rabbits.
‘Gregory, no,’ Carly shouted, rushing after him. The rabbits scattered, the largest—most likely the mother—dashing through the brush. Cursing the cranky dog for real now, Carly tried to keep pace with them. No way was he going to kill the mother rabbit on her watch.
In no mood to chase the Baron’s insubordinate dog, Carly didn’t hear the gunmetal-grey motorcycle bearing down on her around the bend in the driveway until it was too late. In what seemed like slow motion she realised that she wasn’t going to be able to stop her forward momentum in time and, irrelevantly, that she was going to die with Beckett’s silly necklace still gripped in her hand.
Half waiting for the sleek machine to barrel into her, Carly skidded on the gravel and landed
