Sarah's Secret. CATHERINE GEORGE
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look over his glass of beer. ‘Did you have to pay someone to stay with her this evening?’
Well done, thought Sarah. Some men changed the subject the moment she mentioned Davy. ‘No. She’s a weekly boarder at Roedale.’
‘Your old school?’
She shook her head. ‘At her age I went to the school in the village where I was born. How about you?’
‘Liam and I are also products of state education.’ He smiled wryly. ‘But with differing results. Liam’s were uniformly spectacular, mine less so. I joined the family business straight after fairly respectable A-levels. But Liam can boast an Oxford degree, plus an MBA from that high-powered place in France.’
‘Impressive,’ said Sarah, not sure she liked the sound of Liam Hogan and his credentials.
‘Would you mind if I took my jacket off?’ Jake asked.
‘Not in the least. I’m too warm in mine, too,’ she said, ignoring her promise to Margaret.
Jake helped her out of her jacket, eyeing her bare brown shoulders with appreciation. ‘You’ve obviously been on holiday recently.’
She shook her head, smiling. ‘Part of it is natural skin tone, the rest fresh air. We’ve had a heatwave, and I finish work at three. A short session in the garden after work every day is a lot cheaper than a foreign holiday.’
‘You obviously never burn.’
‘I keep under an umbrella and use sunscreen. After my day in the office I yearn for fresh air.’ She leaned back in her chair, relaxed. ‘Where do you get your tan? Golf?’
‘No, genetics. My mother’s Italian. We get our skin tone from her.’
‘Unusual with fair hair.’ And very, very appealing to Sarah.
Jake waved a menu at her. ‘What do you fancy? Obviously the trout’s good.’
‘I’ll pass on that,’ she said hastily. ‘My father used to fish for trout when I was young. With far too much success for my liking.’
He laughed. ‘Does he still do it?’
‘No.’ She hesitated. ‘Both my parents are dead.’
‘I’m sorry.’ Jake reached across to touch her hand fleetingly. ‘That must be doubly tough on you with a little girl to look after.’
Not a man to shirk sensitive issues, approved Sarah. ‘It was at first. Davy was so inconsolable I had to bottle up my own grief to try and help her through it. But don’t let’s talk of sad things,’ she said briskly. ‘I don’t want to spoil your evening.’
‘There’s no way you could do that,’ he assured her, and tapped the menu. ‘So what would you like to start?’
Sarah cast an eye down the list. ‘These all sound so tempting. I adore this kind of thing, but if I order one I never get through a main course.’
‘Then don’t have a main course. I vote we choose two or three starters each, then share the lot.’
‘Can we do that?’ she said, smiling in delight.
‘You can do anything you like,’ he assured her softly, with no smile at all.
CHAPTER THREE
PREPARED from the first to enjoy the evening, Sarah found her pleasure increased by the minute as they worked their way through baby asparagus wrapped in parma ham, crab cakes, a millefeuille of goat’s cheese with roasted red peppers, spicy chorizo sausage, fettucine with smoked salmon, and a platter of home-baked bread. And she was well aware that not all her enjoyment came from the food. The intimate process of dipping into each other’s plates was an ice-breaker which rapidly created a rapport between them new to Sarah since her student days.
‘Have some bread to fill up the corners,’ said Jake, buttering a slice for her.
‘This was a brilliant idea,’ she assured him indistinctly. ‘Are you sure you won’t have more corners to fill? This is a pretty light meal by average male standards.’
‘I object to the label of average male,’ he retorted, grinning. ‘Anyway, I ate a large lunch. How about you?’
‘I eat a sandwich at my desk every day.’ She shrugged. ‘As I said, I finish work at three, so I never take a lunch break.’
He frowned as he speared a slice of chorizo. ‘Don’t you get tired without a proper break?’
‘I’ve been doing it for years. I’m used to it.’
‘So, besides work, what else do you do?’
‘Cinema, theatre, and so on. Usually with women-friends.’ She hesitated. ‘And until recently I went out with a man on a more or less regular basis.’
‘What happened?’
‘He jilted me last Tuesday.’
‘Good God, why?’ demanded Jake blankly.
Sarah’s eyes danced. ‘He found someone else. Besides, he felt he wasn’t cut out to be a stepfather.’
Jake eyed her searchingly. ‘Was there any likelihood of that?’
‘Not the remotest chance! It wasn’t that kind of relationship. Besides, Davy didn’t like him. Though my grandmother did.’
‘Is your grandmother’s approval vital to you?’
‘Fortunately, no, because it’s hard to come by where I’m concerned. Her soft spot is reserved for Davy.’
He pushed the asparagus towards her. ‘You have that; I’m not keen on it.’
‘Really? I love it. I’ll swap for the chorizo.’ Sarah eyed the plates with respect. ‘These are all very generous for starters.’ She looked up in sudden suspicion. ‘Wait a minute. Did you—?’
‘I told them to be generous,’ he said, unrepentant. ‘At lunch today I was given allegedly king prawns the size of my thumbnail for a first course, so it seemed best to be on the safe side tonight.’
Sarah shook her head, laughing, and applied herself with relish to the asparagus.
‘Do you see much of your grandmother?’
‘We live with her.’ Sarah explained the arrangement in Campden Road.
His lips twitched. ‘Did you tell her how we met?’
Sarah laughed. ‘I could hardly avoid it. She was there when I arrived looking like a drowned rat.’
His eyes locked on hers. ‘I’m sorry I knocked you over. But on the plus side, if I hadn’t I wouldn’t have met you. And, as must be perfectly obvious to you, Sarah Tracy, I’m very glad I have.’
‘So am I.’
Their eyes held for a couple of heartbeats, then Jake said abruptly, ‘How about some pudding? They do a great one here with pecans and honey ice-cream. But you must eat a whole one yourself, or you don’t get coffee.’
‘I don’t want coffee, but I will eat the pudding,’ she assured him, because ordering it and waiting for it, and eating it, meant more time spent alone with Jake Hogan in the pretty garden which was empty now, as the evening grew cool. And she had other plans for coffee.
‘We could go inside if you’re cold,’ he offered, as their plates were cleared away.
‘I’d much rather stay here.’
‘Good. So would I.’ He gave the order for their puddings, then moved his chair closer. ‘Sarah, maybe it’s too soon to ask this, but when you know me better—as I fully intend you shall—you’ll find I tend to go straight for what I want.’
Sarah raised an eyebrow.