that was why he was so determined to demolish the houses rather than have them renovated. Did he hope that when the houses were smashed to smithereens it would likewise crush the hurtful nightmares of his past? Last night she’d been so encouraged when he’d been able to turn out the light and sleep more easily, and she didn’t doubt that trend would continue if only he could realise he wasn’t to blame for what had happened to him as a child … that he’d always deserved to be loved just as much as anyone else did.
‘It’s funny,’ he murmured, ‘but it looks so much smaller and insignificant than it did when I was a child. If my dad was still alive I bet he’d look smaller and insignificant too.’
‘If the thought helps you no longer see him as an ogre, and you can start to put your disturbing memories of him to bed, then I’m glad you think that. But I’m sure that if he could see you now and learn what a successful and wealthy man you’ve become—through all your own efforts too—he would be proud … even if he couldn’t bring himself to show it.’
A muscle flinched in the side of Drake’s lean, carved cheekbone, conveying the undoubted tension in his body. ‘The old bastard was too mean to be proud of anyone or anything … especially his son. He was totally self-obsessed. But thanks for the thought just the same.’
Grimacing, Layla didn’t shy away from the bitterness and sorrow she heard in his tone and lapse into silence. Instead an even stronger determination to stay as positive as possible and not collude with his misery arose inside her. ‘You know if it was renovated along with all the others in the street this house could potentially be very nice. Was it in such a sorry state as it is now when you lived here with your dad?’ she asked.
Sighing heavily, Drake shook his head. ‘It was always rundown, but not as bad as it is now, thank God. As I got older I used to try and keep it free from litter at least. And the windows never got broken because it was my job to clean them. I didn’t dare risk kicking a football around outside and potentially ruining all my hard work. Even then I longed for my surroundings to be beautiful.’
Helplessly picturing the small boy who’d taken on the household jobs his father should have assumed, in a bid to maintain some sort of pleasing exterior to what must have been his desperately unhappy interior life, Layla grimaced again. ‘Has it helped you coming back here to see it again?’ she asked softly.
‘Who knows?’ The expression in his haunting grey eyes was far away for a moment. ‘Only time will tell. The point is I didn’t want to hide anything from you—that’s why I brought you here. I wanted you to see for yourself the house and the environment I grew up in. I wanted to be truthful and show you exactly where I came from … who I really am.’
‘I feel privileged that you trust me enough to show me, Drake. But who you really are isn’t defined by your past, you know. You can write a new script every day … every moment, in fact. It didn’t happen overnight, but recently I’ve come to realise that myself. Thinking about how my boss ripped me off just keeps me stuck in the same miserable, unhappy story. It doesn’t help me move on and enjoy my life, and just because we’ve been hurt by someone in the past it doesn’t mean that everyone we meet in the future is going to hurt us.’
‘I’m sure you’re right.’ Drake’s steady glance was deeply thoughtful for a moment. ‘I’ve got something I want to tell you before I take you home.’
‘What’s that?’
‘I’m not going to have the houses demolished after all. I’m going to have them renovated, as you suggested.’
Layla was speechless. Then, as hope and elation poured through her at the same time, she smiled at Drake and said, ‘You are? What changed your mind?’
‘You did, Layla. You made me see things differently. I’ve begun to wonder if this regeneration of the town isn’t a good opportunity for me to bury the ghosts of the past and start over. I have the means and the know how to help others who live here have a better and more beautiful environment that might inspire them to do something good with their lives instead of feeling hopeless, and that’s exactly what I plan to do. I’m also going to turn my old house into that youth club you suggested the town needs.’
‘You mean it?’
‘Absolutely.’
‘I can hardly believe it,’ Sighing, Layla slowly shook her head in wonder. ‘I’m so proud of you, Drake … so proud. I don’t doubt that given time you’re going to make a huge difference to people’s lives with all you plan to do here.’
‘Talking of time—I ought to get you home.’
Lifting her hand in a gentlemanly gesture that might have come straight out of a Regency novel, he brushed his lips against her fingers with almost polite restraint. Even then Layla realised the heat between them was but a mere breath away, and could be ignited by one unguarded glance, let alone a touch. Breathing out slowly, she somehow found a smile—no easy task when she knew they would soon have to say goodbye to each other. She honestly wondered how she would survive the next few days without seeing him.
As if the same realisation had suddenly occurred to him, Drake clenched his jaw and gunned the engine. But as the car sped along the dark shabby streets Layla believed that he would indeed put the ghosts of his troubled past behind him and truly start afresh. He’d told her she had helped him see things differently. Did that include her assertion that he could write a new script for his life? Whether the idea would help him reflect on the possibility of a brighter future with her, she could only hope and pray …
‘It’s the house on the right-hand side.’
‘You mean the large Victorian?’
‘That’s right.’
Driving through the well-kept streets on the much more affluent side of town, Drake felt the pit of his stomach churn helplessly. From her description of where she lived, he’d already guessed that Layla’s upbringing had been a million miles away from his own. Without even hearing her address he only had to remember the kindness of her father who’d run the newsagents to know that she’d been well taken care of. There was also the brother who adored her … the brother who was determined to make a currently unprofitable coffee house a roaring success, and had given her a job when her sleazebag employer had swindled her out of her savings. Who wouldn’t be envious of having a sibling like that to rely on?
After spending such an unbelievably joyous weekend with Layla, he hated the insecurity that suddenly seized him. The prospect of not seeing her again for an entire week didn’t help. Following her out of the car, Drake struggled hard to win back his equilibrium.
‘Will you come in and have a coffee with me before you head back to London?’ she asked him, her tone hinting at her uncertainty that he might not.
‘That would be great.’ Determinedly finding a reassuring smile, he reached for her hand. Didn’t she know that the prospect of spending a little more time with her made him feel as wildly happy as a prisoner on death row who’d been given an unbelievable last minute reprieve?
As they climbed the steps to the impressive porch of the house the scarlet front door opened from the inside and Marc, Layla’s tousle-headed brother, appeared to greet them.
‘The wanderer returns.’ He immediately stepped forward to envelop his sister in a hard warm hug, and Drake had no choice but to let go of her hand. The cold stab of jealousy that slashed through his insides at being forced to relinquish her even for a moment
