London's Eligible Bachelors. Sharon Kendrick
other sofa was occupied by a man who was looking at Sabrina with interest. At his feet sat the second woman, her hair twisted into a topknot, and they were both drinking champagne out of long, frosted flutes.
‘And this is Tom Roberts, my cousin,’ said Guy. ‘Our mothers are sisters.’
Sabrina looked at Tom, trying to see any family resemblance, but she couldn’t. But, then, Tom’s face was neither so haughty nor so aloof as Guy’s. ‘Hello.’
Tom crinkled her a smile. ‘Hello, Sabrina.’
‘And Trudi Herley—his fiancée.’
‘Come and sit down and have some champagne, Sabrina,’ said Trudi. ‘Have you eaten?’ She pointed to the remains of what Sabrina assumed had been brunch, which lay on trays scattered in the centre of the room.
At least they seemed friendlier than Jenna, who hadn’t moved and was staring at Sabrina with a decidedly moody look on her face. She looked over at Guy.
‘You haven’t told us about Sabrina, Guy, darling.’
‘Haven’t I?’ For no good reason, Guy suddenly resented the implication that he should have done.
He poured out a flute of champagne and handed it to Sabrina, putting his hand in the small of her back and propelling her towards one of the chairs. ‘Go and sit down over there.’
Feeling a little like a marionette, Sabrina obeyed, gulping nervously at the glass of bubbly as he lowered his long-legged frame into a chair opposite her.
Who were these people? And who was Jenna, for goodness’ sake? That possessive look she was currently slanting at Guy suggested that the two of them were more than just friends. He hadn’t brought that into the equation when he’d suggested she come and stay with him.
‘So where did you two meet?’ persisted Jenna.
Ice-grey eyes glittered coolly in Sabrina’s direction. ‘We met in Venice,’ Guy said slowly, seeing her body stiffen in recollection and feeling his own slow, answering response.
Sabrina studied her glass of champagne intently, feeling as naïve as it was possible to feel. Why had she said she would come here? Because there was a part of her which had been secretly hoping that they might fall into each other’s arms again? Why hadn’t she considered that he had a life she knew nothing about? With other women and other friends? Who obviously were not about to welcome her with open arms. Not if Jenna’s reaction was anything to go by.
‘Venice?’ echoed Tom, and threw him a curious look. ‘When you flew over to buy that painting?’
‘That’s right,’ said Guy succinctly, and drained his glass.
‘But I thought you never mixed business and pleasure?’
‘I don’t,’ came Guy’s smooth retort. ‘Not usually.’
Sabrina saw Tom raise his eyebrows in surprise.
‘And what were you doing in Venice, Sabrina?’ asked Jenna.
‘I was there on holiday.’
‘On your own?’
Sabrina saw Guy frown at the question, and something in the quality of the brief, hard look he sent her gave her the courage to be truthful. Just for once she allowed herself to focus on the pleasure of their lovemaking, instead of the guilt, and a dreamy smile curved her mouth. ‘That’s right,’ she said softly. ‘It’s the most wonderful place to explore on your own—you never know what you might find there.’
Guy’s eyes were arrowed in her direction, their dark glitter telling her that he shared the erotic memory.
‘So where exactly do you live?’ persisted Jenna.
‘In Salisbury.’
‘Really? Are you on an awayday, or something?’
‘Er, not exactly…’
‘Sabrina’s going to be…’ Guy paused, as if seeking an elusive word. ‘Staying…with me for a while.’
‘Staying here?’ Jenna’s mouth fell open as if he had just confessed to murder. ‘You mean she’s going to be living here?’
‘Sure.’ He shrugged, and gave a lazy smile. ‘Why not?’
Sabrina couldn’t miss the swift look of amazement that crossed Trudi’s face before she narrowed her eyes, then slowly stood up and nudged Tom with her bare foot. ‘Good heavens,’ she said faintly. ‘Right. Time we were going, I think. Thank goodness Jenna is driving, and not me! Come on, Jen!’
Sabrina drew a deep breath and raised her head, her gaze drawn to the unfathomable grey of Guy’s eyes, knowing that she needed to get out of there. Because if Jenna did belong to Guy, then she couldn’t bear to endure a tender farewell scene between the two of them.
‘Could you show me where I’ll be sleeping, please, Guy?’
‘Would that be the main bedroom, Guy?’ Jenna smiled spikily. ‘Or the junk room you call the spare?’
There was a brief, frozen silence and then Guy stood up, his mouth tightening with an unmistakable look of irritation.
‘If that was intended to embarrass Sabrina, Jenna, then you’ve succeeded with honours,’ he said shortly. ‘This way, Sabrina.’
There was a rather stunned silence as the two of them left the room. He picked up her suitcases, a thoughtful glint in his eyes as he observed her set expression.
Neither of them said a word until he threw open a door right at the end of the corridor to reveal a small room cluttered with a desk, a filing cabinet, an exercise bike and, hardly visible beneath a heap of skiing clothes, a narrow, single bed.
Sabrina turned to face him. ‘You weren’t expecting me,’ she observed, and tried to keep the disappointment from her voice as she took in the general chaos.
He gave a half-apologetic shrug. He was letting her have the room, for heaven’s sake—was she expecting red-carpet treatment into the bargain? ‘I was snowed under when you rang last week, and I just didn’t get around to asking my cleaning lady to sort the place out. Let me go and see the others out, and then I’ll come and help you tidy up.’
‘I can do it myself!’
‘You don’t know where to store things,’ he said evenly, and walked out of the room before she had a chance to reply.
Unable to do anything until he came back, Sabrina went and stood over by the window, gazing out at the darkening sky, at the city lights which were just beginning to flicker on. She thought of how her life had changed, and was changing still, in ways she had never imagined would happen to a girl like her. And there wasn’t, she realised, a single thing she could do to stop it. So, was that fate, or destiny?
She was still standing there when he returned, and as he walked into the confined space she suddenly became stupidly aware of the fact that he had now done up the top two buttons of his jeans.
And that they were alone.
‘What did your friends say?’ she asked him.
Guy’s mouth twisted. ‘Let’s just say that they wanted to know more than I was prepared to tell them.’
She dreaded having to ask, but she needed to know. ‘And is Jenna your…your…girlfriend?’
He stared at her in disbelief. ‘You really think I’d invite another woman to stay with me, without telling her, if she was?’
‘I don’t know, do I? That’s exactly why I’m asking!’
The challenging look was replaced by one of faint irritation. ‘I tend to go for a little more communication in my relationships than that,’ he said coldly.
‘So you don’t have one at the