‘Don’t get cheeky with me, laddie,’ his grandfather snapped.
‘We are talking about a female guest,’ Brice realised slightly incredulously. It was one thing to make the suggestion, another to have it confirmed…!
‘We aren’t talking about her at all,’ his grandfather bit out decisively.
‘You aren’t the “kiss and tell” type, are you, Grandfather?’ Brice drawled mockingly, not altogether sure he was comfortable with the reversal of roles.
‘Watch your tongue, boy,’ the elderly man came back harshly.
This was a complication Brice had just never envisaged, he had to admit. And he wasn’t a hundred per cent sure he knew how to deal with it now that it had happened!
So much for his advice to Sabina to be adult where her mother’s relationship was concerned—this was his grandfather, not one of his parents, and he didn’t know how to handle it!
‘So the answer is no, Grandfather?’ he said slowly.
‘Now, I didn’t say that,’ the older man came back dismissively. ‘I’m merely trying to point out that my home is not a hotel, somewhere for you to bring the current woman in your life—’
‘Sabina isn’t the current woman in my life.’ More’s the pity, Brice could have added regretfully. ‘I’ve accepted a commission to paint her, that’s all.’ That was all!
His peace of mind had been in turmoil since the other week when he’d first seen Sabina! And he wasn’t sure that painting her was going to get her out of his system, either.
‘Sabina?’ his grandfather echoed sharply. ‘You aren’t talking about the model Sabina?’
‘The one and only,’ Brice confirmed wryly. ‘Although I didn’t know you kept up with the fashion world, Grandfather,’ he added derisively. Although it wouldn’t be all that difficult to have seen photographs of Sabina; her face had been adorning the front page of magazines for five years or so now.
‘You don’t know everything about me, Brice,’ the older man scorned.
‘Obviously not,’ Brice confirmed dryly; he had certainly never heard anything about his grandfather having a woman staying with him before. And he didn’t think Logan or Fergus had, either, otherwise they would have been sure to mention it.
‘When are you thinking of coming up?’ his grandfather prompted thoughtfully.
‘I’m not sure. I wanted to confirm it was okay with you before making any definite plans.’ And, from the sound of it, it was just as well that he had!
‘It’s fine with me,’ his grandfather assured him lightly.
Brice frowned slightly. His grandfather hadn’t sounded as if it were fine with him a few minutes ago…
‘Then I’ll call you later in the week to confirm a time, if that’s okay with you?’ he said slowly.
He had an appointment to see Richard Latham in just over an hour’s time, would know better then whether or not he was going to be able to take Sabina to Scotland with him. He would have much rather just dealt with Sabina herself, but as Richard Latham was the one commissioning the painting, and—unfortunately!—he was also Sabina’s fiancé, Brice had accepted it was Latham he would have to talk to.
Although he was hoping that Sabina would be there too…
It had been two days since she’d left his home so abruptly, two long days when Brice had thought of little else. But he had deliberately left it a couple of days before arranging to meet with Richard Latham; for one, he wanted to give Sabina time to get over being angry with him, for two, he hadn’t wanted to look too eager!
Mostly, he admitted self-derisively, it was the latter.
All of his waking moments now, it seemed, were spent in thinking about Sabina, in remembering how she felt in his arms, the taste and feel of her lips against his.
He could never remember being this obsessed with a woman in his life before. A woman who was completely unattainable!
‘Fine,’ his grandfather answered him. ‘But do be sure to let me know what time you’re arriving,’ he added warningly.
‘I’ll try not to catch you at an embarrassing moment, Grandfather,’ he confirmed dryly, still unsure about how he felt about his grandfather having a ‘girlfriend’—although he very much doubted, taking into account his grandfather’s age, if that term actually applied in this case! Unless of course—
‘I hope you’re going to remember your manners, laddie,’ his grandfather came back darkly. ‘I won’t have you making any of your clever remarks to—my friend.’
‘I’ll be on my best behaviour, Grandfather,’ Brice promised frowningly; his grandfather must be serious about this woman if he felt this strongly about his family’s behaviour in front of her.
Brice wasn’t a hundred per cent certain how he felt about that. His grandparents had both been here for all of them when they’d been younger, his grandfather alone for the last few years; he simply couldn’t envisage seeing his grandfather with anyone else but his grandmother.
Although that was probably just selfishness on his part, Brice accepted; after all, his grandfather spent most of his time on his own, the rest of them having their own busy lives to lead, when, as his grandfather had pointed out, weeks would go by without any of them giving a thought to visiting him in Scotland.
‘You had better be,’ came his grandfather’s parting comment.
Brice sat in frowning contemplation for several minutes after the call had ended, only forcing himself to move when he realised he had less than an hour to change and drive over to Richard Latham’s house. And, after all, what business was it of his whether or not his grandfather had found someone to spend time with? He was over twenty-one—well over!—a widower, and so at liberty to do with his life exactly what he wanted to do with it.
Time to take note of his own advice to Sabina where her mother was concerned, Brice realised; be happy for his grandfather, not judgmental. After all, it was his grandfather’s life.
Brice’s disappointment was acute when he was shown into Richard Latham’s lounge an hour later and found the other man alone there. No doubt Sabina was working again, Brice acknowledged ruefully. Pity.
Richard Latham was dressed formally in a dark grey suit and white shirt, with a discreetly patterned tie of grey and red, blond hair styled short, only a distinctive sprinkling of grey at his temples.
No doubt the latter added to the other man’s attractiveness, Brice acknowledged.
And Richard Latham was a handsome man, he accepted disinterestedly, ruggedly attractive, eyes of deep blue, his tall build still lithely fit despite his fifty-odd years.
But as he looked at Richard, Brice realised he disliked the other man intensely!
On first acquaintance Brice had been deeply irritated by the other man’s arrogance, but, looking at him now, Brice realised his dislike came from a different direction entirely. This man lived with Sabina, spent every day with her—every night! Most of all it was those nights that Brice hated even the thought of, he acknowledged with an inward shudder!
‘Sit down,’ Richard invited abruptly. ‘Can I offer you a drink of some kind?’ he offered coolly once Brice had done so. ‘Tea? Coffee? Or would you prefer something stronger?’ he drawled.
‘No, thanks,’ Brice refused as coolly, knowing he wouldn’t be staying long enough to drink anything. Just being in the same room as this man set his teeth on edge!
The other man looked at him with narrowed blue eyes. ‘In that case, what can I do for you?’
Brice’s mouth twisted wryly. ‘I thought I was the one who was going to do something for you? Paint Sabina’s portrait,’ he added harshly as the other man continued to look at him with cold enquiry.
‘Ah, yes.’ Richard nodded slowly, as if just remembering the fact. ‘What are your thoughts on that now?’
His antagonism growing by the second, Brice thought he had better just state his case and leave—as quickly as possible!
‘I’ll do it,’ he stated flatly. ‘But not here. In Scotland. I—’
‘You asked me to let you know when Miss Sabina was awake, Mr Latham.’ The housekeeper had entered the room after knocking.
‘Thank you, Mrs Clark.’ Her employer nodded. ‘Tell her I’ll be up to see her in a few minutes,’ he added dismissively.
‘Is Sabina ill?’ Brice asked worriedly once the two men were alone. It was two o’clock in the afternoon, for goodness’ sake! Much as he didn’t want Sabina to be ill, the alternative was totally unacceptable!
Something flickered briefly in the other man’s eyes at Brice’s obvious concern—irritation? Resentment? Displeasure? It was gone too quickly for Brice to tell.
Although there was no doubting that the smile Richard Latham now gave didn’t quite reach the icy depths of those pale blue eyes. ‘It’s nothing,’ he dismissed airily. ‘Sabina is—delicate. A little nervy, shall we say?’ he drawled softly. ‘The slightest—disturbance can be quite debilitating for her, poor love.’
The other man seemed to be choosing his words carefully, and yet at the same time Brice felt Richard was also being quite deliberate. And he didn’t agree with the other man that Sabina was delicate, or nervy; she seemed a little tense at times, and he wished she smiled more, but other than that she appeared to him to be a woman quite capable of dealing with anything life chose to throw at her. After all, he had been thrown at her—and she had no problem dealing with him!