Morelli's Mistress. Anne Mather
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animal.’ Luke came closer as she struggled to find the clasp of the leash. ‘Hey, don’t bother fastening him up on my account. I like dogs, and fortunately they usually like me.’
Why was she not surprised? Finding the catch, she fastened the leash to Harley’s collar, anyway. He whined a little plaintively, but she refused to be deterred. ‘I didn’t think anyone else was about or I wouldn’t have let him run free.’
Luke shrugged, glancing about him. ‘I was just familiarising myself with the area. It’s a beautiful part of the country.’
‘It is.’ What else could she say? That was why she’d moved here, for heaven’s sake. ‘Do you know it well?’
Luke shrugged again. ‘My father lives in Bath these days, but I don’t know Ashford-St-James very well.’
So how on earth had he found out about the properties? wondered Abby curiously. Or had he been searching the Internet and come upon them, much as she’d done herself four years ago?
As if reading her thoughts, he said, ‘It was my father who alerted me to the sale. He used to play golf with Charles Gifford, the father of the present owner.’
‘Yes. I know who Charles Gifford is—was,’ said Abby flatly.
‘So I guess you knew that I was involved before I walked into the café a few hours ago?’
Abby nodded. ‘I got a letter, the same as everybody else.’
‘And you’ve been cursing me ever since,’ remarked Luke cynically. ‘Don’t look like that. I can tell.’
Abby sighed. ‘As a matter of fact, my first thought was that you knew I owned one of the businesses, and you’d bought them as—as a kind of revenge,’ she said honestly.
Luke snorted. ‘You’re kidding me.’
‘No.’ Abby was defensive. ‘We didn’t exactly part on the best of terms, did we?’
‘No.’ Luke conceded the point. ‘But you must have quite an opinion of yourself if you think I’m still stressing over something that happened, what? Four years ago?’
‘Five,’ said Abby shortly, wondering if he’d really forgotten. ‘Anyway, I’m glad I left no lasting scar on your life.’
* * *
If she only knew, thought Luke grimly, looking down at the retriever again so she wouldn’t see the hostility in his eyes.
She’d only been responsible for his break-up with Ray Carpenter, who hadn’t been able to stand the bitter way Luke had come to regard his life.
And she’d also been the reason he’d married Sonia, the girl he’d been seeing in the weeks before Annabel—Abby—had come on the scene. The marriage had been a mistake from the outset and a year later, it had been over.
Now he made a dismissive gesture, amazed the lie came so easily. ‘I’d forgotten all about it,’ he said carelessly. ‘Like you, I’ve moved on with my life.’
‘Well, I’m glad.’ Abby gazed up at him, rather guiltily, he thought. ‘It was all my fault that—well, what happened, happened,’ she said.
That had been Luke’s take on it certainly. Nothing could alter the fact that she’d been married when she’d agreed to meet him. He should have felt sorry for her husband, instead of threatening to sock him on the jaw.
He knew he shouldn’t be having this conversation with her. As soon as he’d walked into the café and discovered who the owner of the business was, he should have left it there. Instead, he’d spent the last few hours hanging around Ashford, trying to think of a reason to go back.
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