The Man From her Wayward Past

So instead of a dress with a yoke and enough material in the skirt for a second marquee, Lucia was wearing a red off-the-shoulder number that clung lovingly to every curve.

‘You look sensational,’ Grace breathed in awe when Lucia had finished her make-up. ‘Your hair’s glorious.’

‘Luke’s never seen me dressed in anything but dungarees, jeans or a suit,’ she said, craning her neck to examine her rear view. Or naked, she silently amended.

‘You look fabulous,’ Grace assured her. ‘You only have to see the way Luke looks at you to know that he thinks so too.’

‘I just hope his mother doesn’t think I look too tarty.’

‘The only problem you’ve got is that his father’s tongue will be dragging on the floor.’ Grace stopped as they both glanced out of Lucia’s bedroom window to see Lucia’s brothers sauntering into the courtyard.

‘When you grow up with that bunch it’s enough to give anyone an inferiority complex,’ Lucia explained wryly as Grace groaned softly at the sight of Nacho spearheading the group.

Lucia laughed. ‘It’s time to pick your tongue off the floor, I think.’

‘You’re right,’ Grace agreed, turning away from the window. ‘We’ve got a party to go to.’

If only she hadn’t overheard that conversation between Luke’s parents as she passed their room she might have been able to face the evening with all the new-found confidence that restoring the guest house and being with Luke had given her. Well … it certainly explained the sense of doom that had been dogging her, Lucia accepted as Grace hurried on ahead.

‘If only she weren’t one of those wretched Acostas, Donald,’ Luke’s mother had been saying. ‘They’re such a wild bunch. It’s hard enough coming to terms with the fact that Luke and Lucia are working together on this tiny project, but to have Luke tell you that he has fallen in love with her …’

There had been a pause here, doubtless for a shocked expression.

‘Why couldn’t Luke pick a nice, refined girl from the country club?’

Yes. Why couldn’t he? Lucia had wondered, not waiting to hear Luke’s father’s reply.

From the reflection she caught sight of in the mirror as she passed the door to the Forsters’ suite now, Luke’s mother was, as always, immaculately groomed, while Lucia felt more of a mess than ever. She’d styled her hair hastily, and it was already falling down. She worried again that her dress was too sexy—it certainly wasn’t something she could imagine any of the girls from the country club wearing. For a moment she felt sick at the thought of seeing Luke again.

‘Lucia.’

She glanced up to see Luke’s father coming down the stairs. ‘You go ahead,’ she told Grace. Lucia was managing the guest house now. She could hardly turn and flee at the first sign of trouble. ‘Is there anything you need?’ she asked Luke’s father with concern.

‘The suite is perfection—just a word or two, if you have the time …?’

‘I’ve always got time for you,’ Lucia said, remembering that the formidable Forster papa had been a good friend of her equally formidable father.

‘I just wanted you to know, Lucia, how pleased I am.’

‘I’m so glad you like the room—’

‘I’m just trying to say, in my clumsy way,’ Luke’s father interrupted, ‘how pleased I am that you have brought Luke out of himself, reminding him of a time when he was truly happy. By doing that you have stopped him becoming obsessive about business. At least that’s what I think—and what Margaret tells me. She says she’s never seen either of you so happy.’

‘Working together has been surprisingly good,’ Lucia admitted carefully.

‘There’s more to life than work, Lucia,’ Luke’s father said gently, ‘as I’m always telling my son. Margaret says you have been through the mill, but now you’re smiling again.’

‘It has helped being here,’ she admitted.

‘You can’t shy away from your feelings here—even if they hurt like hell,’ Donald Forster observed shrewdly.

Luke’s father must be hurting too, Lucia realised as she watched his face grow sad. ‘I know you and my father were very close.’

‘He was one of my dearest friends,’ Luke’s father confirmed. ‘And it isn’t easy for a man to make a friend. But it must have been hard for you to begin with, coming back here, Lucia?’

‘Cathartic too,’ she admitted.

‘For me also,’ Donald Forster admitted quietly. ‘Anyway,’ he said, bringing her back to the present, ‘I know we Forsters must seem a bit lofty sometimes, but I just wanted you to know that I’m glad you and Luke have found each other again. There is a sort of symmetry to it, don’t you think?’