‘No…I didn’t. I can’t draw or paint to save my life. Are you disappointed?’
Feeling a sickening sensation of genuine hurt well up inside her in case he was, Maya turned away from the lancing gaze that so easily took her apart and started walking down the hill again, her heart still hammering as her booted feet carefully negotiated the uneven crags that covered the ground.
Sensing a flash of something beside her, she glanced down at a panting Sheba, the large noble head held ever so slightly at an angle as she came to a halt, just as if she was asking her what was the matter and could she help? The thought was so preposterous that she found herself smiling. Reaching out, Maya gently stroked her hand over the slate-grey fur that covered the dog’s extensive back without any fear whatsoever.
‘It’s all right, Sheba. I’m fine…honest.’
Asking her if she’d had any desire to follow in her father’s footsteps had obviously been too close to the bone and Blaise should have known better. Especially when he had fielded many similar questions himself over the years, because of his own famous parentage. Yet somehow an increasing desire to get Maya to open up to him, to make a real connection with her, had unexpectedly manifested itself inside him. He’d never experienced such a powerful need around a woman before and, startled, he let the idea wash over him, feeling what it was like. Her confession that her one-time dream had been to be with someone who really loved her and to have a family had also perversely made him want to instantly back away…to maintain the emotional distance that he realised both of them subconsciously fought hard for.
Contemplating her now as she stroked Sheba, the gusting wind turning her long flowing hair into a riotous cloud of ebony silk, Blaise remembered the upsetting memory she’d revealed about being winded by a similarly powerful dog when she was small, and the fact that she’d taken the courageous step of petting the animal in front of him with such apparent ease filled him with honest admiration for her sheer gutsiness.
‘Let’s press on, shall we?’ he called out, lest any more warm feelings of admiration take precedence over the play he was meant to be thinking about. ‘We’ve got a lot to do today.’
Deftly negotiating the jagged crags that separated them down the hill, Blaise arrived beside the stunning brunette and the Wolfhound in next to no time, and with not even the merest hint of being out of breath added, ‘Lottie will have lunch prepared in another hour. And she’s a stickler for timekeeping when it comes to meals at Hawk’s Lair.’
‘That’s such an evocative name. Where did it come from?’ Maya asked, and he saw the telltale smudges of what he suspected was the residue of tears beneath her emerald eyes.
For a moment his heart squeezed with regret, and he had to fight the strongest urge to wipe them away.
‘My father started out in a local repertory company in the small Scottish town where he came from and once performed in a play that had the title.’ Blaise shrugged. ‘My mother had seen him in it and thought the name so romantic that when they bought the house here, she insisted on calling it Hawk’s Lair.’
‘And was it a romantic play?’
‘No…it most definitely wasn’t! It was a stinging satire about a corrupt politician.’
‘Still,’ Maya said quickly, but not quickly enough to hide her apparent disappointment, ‘it’s a great name.’
‘Maya?’
‘Yes?’
‘It was crass of me to ask if you had any ambition to be like your father.’ He lifted her chin and cupped her small perfect jaw in the cradle of his hand. ‘Do you forgive me?’
‘Of course.’ But she moved quickly away as she said it, turning only briefly back to enquire, ‘That sycamore tree you mentioned earlier that’s supposed to be a famous landmark…How far did you say it was from here?’
Fuelled by her challenging walk to see the famous Roman wall, along with Lottie’s excellent lunch of grilled fresh salmon, new potatoes and a warm salad, Maya was just as eager as Blaise to start work.
During lunch he had expanded a little bit more on the play, and just what he was looking for research-wise, and as they’d talked she’d become more and more transfixed by the animation she heard in his mellifluous voice. Animation that she also witnessed etched in the sublime contours of his handsome face. It was a master-class in inspiration, and by the end of it Maya fervently wished that she had some up until now undiscovered talent so that she could help him move forward with what she’d learned.
After lunch they made a brief detour to the extensive library on the floor upstairs, where Blaise informed her she could find just about every history book she’d need, then came back downstairs to his huge study. He showed Maya into the smaller connecting office, where she was set up with a computer, use of the internet, printer, scanner, and a small but extensive bookshelf crammed with books in which to search for information.