Breaking the Rules. Barbara Taylor Bradford

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Breaking the Rules - Barbara Taylor Bradford


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from the silver screen. And by reputation,’ James answered, ‘but I’ve got to admit, I’m a genuine fan. He’s one of the greatest actors on the English-speaking stage today. Nobody’s played Hamlet better than him, except perhaps for Christopher Plummer. And he’s a handsome son of a gun. No wonder women fall all over him.’

      Including M, Geo thought and, stepping forward, she smiled. ‘You two must be old friends, the way you’ve been chatting nonstop.’

      ‘We are indeed … very old friends,’ he answered, offering Geo his most engaging smile.

      M jumped in swiftly, and said, ‘Geo, James, I’d like you to meet Laurence Vaughan.’

      After the three of them shook hands, Larry went on in a firm voice, ‘I’m trying to persuade M to come to supper with me, but she’s worried about leaving you to fend for yourself, Geo.’

      ‘Oh, please don’t concern yourself about that, M,’ James answered quickly. ‘I’ll fend for her any time. Is that all right with you, Geo?’

      ‘Of course it is, James.’

      They had taken a cab to the restaurant in the Eighties just off Lexington. In the cab he had been overwhelmed by her, had ached to take her in his arms, hold her close, kiss her passionately. He had managed to resist this impulse, had held her hand instead, just as he had been doing for the previous hour at Iris Ingersoll’s apartment.

      Larry had not wished to frighten her off – not that he thought she was the kind of young woman who would be easily frightened. To him she seemed self-confident, more intrepid than most. Yes, that was it: there was a fearlessness about her that intrigued and appealed to him, caught his fancy.

      Now, sitting opposite her at a corner table in Le Refuge, a favourite hideaway of his, Larry smiled inwardly, thinking of their earlier banter. She could certainly think on her feet, was fast on the draw and rather bold, and just a little bit cheeky. He especially liked that about her: it made her different, unique, unlike the other women he knew.

      It suddenly struck him how lucky he had been to meet her tonight. He almost hadn’t gone to Iris’s party, had fought the idea of it all day, feeling depleted and depressed. But at the last moment he had realized he owed it to Iris to show up – it was the least he could do. And so he had shaved, showered, dressed and gone over there, and he’d spotted M the moment he walked in.

      He had moved towards her at once, intent on snaring her for himself, drawn to her in the most compelling way; the feeling was so intense it startled him, and he realized he had not experienced anything like it before.

      Funny thing, attraction. It was always the powerful physical pull initially, of being entranced by the way someone looked … the curve of a brow, the line of a cheek, the set of the mouth, the expression in the eyes, the colour of the hair, the overall set of the jib … that’s what captivated the heart.

      Unfortunately, character did not always live up to great physical beauty, and a woman without character soon palled on him. He adored beautiful women; on the other hand, beauty had never been enough for him, did not wholly satisfy him, not in the long run. Ultimately it was … boring. That’s why he had always moved on, had never married any of the women in his life.

      ‘You’re staring at me, Larry,’ M said, looking across the table at him, putting down the menu. He had the oddest look on his face.

      His thoughts were interrupted. He answered swiftly, ‘I’m sorry, love. I was just thinking how lucky I am you were there tonight, and that I found you.’

      ‘Do you really mean that?’ she asked, studying him with great interest, her head on one side.

      ‘Certainly. I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it. You feel the same way, don’t you?’

      She merely nodded, her gaze focused on him. His eyes were a very deep blue in the soft light of the bistro, and most beguiling. Just as he himself was beguiling. But then he had always been that, hadn’t he? Even when she was a child she had been spellbound by him when she saw him on a stage or in a movie.

      ‘I realize we haven’t actually met before tonight,’ Larry now said, ‘but I have this extraordinary feeling I do know you, M. You seem so very familiar to me.’

      ‘Perhaps that’s because I’m half an Audrey.’

      ‘What on earth does that mean?’ He sounded puzzled.

      ‘Some people think I have a look of Audrey Hepburn. But I’m only half like her.’

      His amused smile of earlier flickered again. ‘Come to think of it, there is a resemblance. But it’s not that … I have a sense of knowing you.

      ‘Perhaps we met in another life,’ she suggested, her voice teasing.

      ‘Maybe we did.’ He glanced away, looking off into the distance, and then focused on her again, frowning.

      ‘Honestly, we haven’t met before, Larry,’ she murmured.

      ‘If we had, you wouldn’t have escaped, I can assure you of that.’

      M shook her head, laughter mingled with happiness in her large dark eyes. ‘That’s a rash thing to say, isn’t it?’

      ‘What do you mean?’

      ‘I might take you seriously.’ She responded so quietly she was hardly audible.

      ‘I hope you will.’ Larry gave her a thoughtful look. Her hand was resting on the table; he reached for it, held it in his. ‘I hope this is the beginning … and of something special, M, I really mean that. I’ve said quite a few things to you tonight, things that may have sounded odd to you, but I promise I’ve never said them to any other woman. You have to trust me on that.’

      Squeezing his hand, continuing to hold it tightly in hers, she said in the same low voice, ‘I do trust you, and not just about the things you’ve said to me.’ A faint smile touched her mouth, and she added, ‘I’d trust you with my life, Laurence Vaughan, and I mean what I say.’

      ‘I’ll always keep you safe and sound. Promise.’

      Leaning across the table, M studied him for a moment; she knew he meant it. In a confiding tone she told him, ‘When I was ten I used to dream about you, Larry. Every night.’

      ‘Do you still?’ he asked.

      ‘No, of course not! That was long ago, when you were my dashing Hamlet. Oh, I had such a crush on you, I couldn’t see straight.’

      ‘And what kind of dreams did you have about me?’ he asked, going along with her, enjoying this light-hearted mood, thinking how refreshing she was.

      ‘Oh, you know, little-girl-with-a-crush dreams … all mushy.

      ‘Do you think I might one day infiltrate the big-grown-up-girl’s dreams?’

      ‘You never know,’ she answered lightly. ‘I hope so.’

      ‘And you can bet that I hope so too.’

      Finally releasing her hand, Larry sat back and announced, ‘I have a feeling that everyone you meet thinks you’re special.’

      ‘Oh, I don’t know about that …’ She allowed her voice to drift off, took a sip of wine, eventually muttered, ‘I’m just an ordinary sort of girl.’

      ‘Like hell you are!’ Larry picked up the menu. ‘I think we ought to order, don’t you? Do you know what you want, M?’

      ‘Yes. I was thinking of having grilled sole.’

      ‘Fish, eh? You grew up on an island?’

      ‘Yep. In the North Sea. Just like you did,’ she retorted and winked.

      He inclined his head, amused by her, and motioned for the waiter, ordered grilled sole for two and a bottle of Montrachet.


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