Through her anguish, Sabrina mirrored her agent’s familiar mantra: ‘And who wants a soft agent anyway.’
‘You’ve got it, girlfriend! Catch up soon, and wherever you are, try and find some peace. He was too fucking old and fat for you anyway.’
Chapter Three
Standing up clumsily from the grassy slope, Sabrina wiped her eyes with her sleeve, brushed her jeans down and, deep in thought, started to make her way back up to Kevrinek Cottage. Caroline Smart was usually right, but her acerbic delivery was never easy to swallow. Maybe, Sabrina thought, the fact that her feisty agent was so like her mother was the reason she had put up with her for so long.
Despite a stiffening breeze, the sun still shone brightly. But neither the glorious day nor the sound of sea birds and happy children playing on the beach far below could lift her mood. Sabrina sighed heavily. Her life had been turned on its head through one sheer moment of madness from her duplicitous ex. It seemed unfathomable that only a brief time ago, the pair of them were getting excited about coming here together, as a couple. As Mr and Mrs Dominic Best.
How could he have been SO stupid? He really had ruined everything. Now she would have to completely rethink her future. Marriage had seemed like the obvious and perfect next step for her. The security she had needed, her chance to step off the fickle carousal of showbiz for a moment, whilst she took stock of what she really wanted to do. Fortunately, children had never been on her wish list and with Dom already having a daughter from his first marriage and with no desire to carry on the Best name, there had been no pressure on her in that regard. But she was getting older, Hollywood hadn’t called and unlike others who wanted to just keep going in the same old soap, the thought of that brought her out in hives. The pair of them had discussed her running an acting school when she got older, but the capital required to set one up in London was hefty and she wasn’t sure if she was prepared to risk all her savings on something like that– especially now she wouldn’t have the back up of a wealthy and well-connected husband.
It wasn’t until Sabrina approached the cottage and saw the back door swinging in the breeze that she realised what she’d done. ‘Shit,’ she said aloud. If she’d been in London, she would have religiously set the alarm and double locked every time. It was fine, she convinced herself as she picked up the pace. She was in the middle of nowhere here, and the cottage lay within the locked gates of Kevrinek that had to be opened electronically by the owners. Belle had even made a point of saying how safe it was.
Then she heard a dog barking from inside the property, and she realised that maybe that wasn’t the case after all. She froze at the stable door. A second later, she let out a sudden, blood-curdling scream. Walking towards her down the hallway was a six-foot-six hunk of a man, sporting a mop of tangled mahogany curly hair, a matching unkempt beard, and the hugest hands she had ever seen in her life.
She turned to run but his soft voice stopped her. ‘Jilly, I take it? I don’t believe you were born in a barn, so please don’t treat my cottage like one.’
Her heart was beating at one hundred miles an hour, but on sudden realisation that this man had just called her Jilly and at the familiar sight of the deaf sheepdog at his side, she nearly fainted with relief.
‘I’m assuming you must be Isaac,’ Sabrina stuttered. The friendly hound began to sniff around her legs.
‘You got that right, at least.’ The giant of a man smiled warmly.
‘I’m so sorry. I…err. I wasn’t thinking straight earlier. I should have locked up, and…’ She suddenly remembered what a complete fright she must look, with her unkept hair dragged up in a bun, swollen eyes, and a coffee stain down her cream cashmere sweater. Her breath could probably sink a battleship from ten paces, too. If she’d been in London, she wouldn’t have even considered putting the bins out without first putting on a full face of makeup and false lashes. ‘I’m so sorry, I look such a mess.’ She began patting her hair down and folded her arms across her chest to hide her braless nipples.
The giant of a man sat down on the ornate wrought-iron bench that rested against the back of the cottage wall. ‘Here.’ He signalled for her to join him. Beethoven flopped down underneath, panting heavily.
‘I’m not concerned about what you look like, Jilly. Whether you’re standing in front of me in a shell suit or your birthday suit, it’s the bit between those ears of yours that matters to me.’ He huffed. ‘Belle tells me about all this looks-obsessed behaviour these days. I don’t even own a mobile phone. Drives everybody mad, but I don’t care. We used to manage, so why can’t we now?’
Sabrina’s jaw dropped. ‘No phone? Oh my god. That’s crazy.’
‘Is it?’
Sabrina’s bottom lip suddenly wobbled. After feeling a fleeting peace on the cliffside, she really wasn’t ready for an odd confrontation of this sort.
Isaac’s expression softened.
‘Listen to me. I had a right old rant going on there, didn’t I? I’m sorry. I’m a private man, see. I rarely let this place out to strangers, and it made me angry you weren’t respecting it, it set me off, that’s all.’
‘It won’t happen again, I promise.’ She felt tears welling up like acid raindrops. In a bid to hide them, Sabrina leant down to stroke Beethoven’s redundant silky ears.’
‘Be your own kind of beautiful, Jilly.’
She replied quietly. ‘What a wonderful thing to say.’
‘It’s the age-old adage: if you don’t love yourself, who the bugger’s gonna love you back? But sadly, through time I’ve realised that’s true of many people.’
Sabrina stood up. ‘You’ve got some decent lines there Isaac, I’ll give you that. And who says I don’t love myself?’
The man remained silent.
Sabrina cocked her head to the side and took in the stranger. He was slightly eccentric and maybe a bit patronising with his bold assumptions. But despite knowing him for a matter of moments, she had also picked up on a kind and intriguing energy from him, which was weirdly captivating.
He was the opposite of her Dominic, who was brash and showy for most of the time, only revealing his softer side when they were alone at home, without a constant audience. The side of him she had fallen in love with. The bear hugs when she was tired or stressed from work. The flowers that would be delivered to the studio if she was having a particularly bad time. And despite him finding it difficult to spend time with her ailing brother, he had got together a team from his office to run the London Marathon a couple of years previously where all monies raised were for Headway, the brain injury charity.
Isaac shrugged. ‘It was more the principle of you leaving the cottage open. We’re remote up here on Penrigan Head and there was an incident before.’
Sabrina’s eye widened. ‘What kind of incident?’
