Cat couldn’t honestly argue with that and she had to admit Luke’s intervention had taught him a lesson. But being branded a telltale was something she could do without. ‘It’s not only that,’ she began, determined not to let go of this, ‘I don’t like the way he muscled in as if I’m some poor helpless creature who can’t look after herself. I don’t need some testosterone-fuelled male to protect me. I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself. But there, I think he got the message.’
Jodie sighed. ‘Now what have you done? No, don’t tell me. Given him another verbal battering, no doubt.’
‘I wasn’t going to, but then he decided to be patronising. I won’t tell you exactly what he said, only that my job in an all-male environment made me aggressive. According to him I’m all spit and fur.’
‘Oh, Cat.’ Jodie hooted with laughter.
‘Not funny, Jodie. No one else sees me like that.’
‘No they don’t, because you’re not antagonistic with them. But for some reason you are with Luke. Are you sure you haven’t a little bit of a thing—’
‘Are you mad? Of course not,’ Cat interrupted. ‘God, he’s the last man on earth—’
‘Never say never.’
She could almost see Jodie wagging a finger at her.
‘Cat, I think you and I need a girls’ night out to get all that tension out of your system.’
‘You’re probably right,’ Cat agreed, feeling too exhausted to argue.
‘Tell you what, let’s do something this evening. Get your glad rags on and I’ll pick you up around seven thirty. Don’t ask where we’re going, it’s a secret, but I can guarantee it will put a smile back on your face.’
Reluctantly, Cat agreed. She always found Jodie difficult to say no to and, besides, she had a point; she did need cheering up. Life at the moment had become totally frustrating and the blame lay fairly and squarely with Luke Carrack. She vowed to try and stay clear of him in future, but living in such a small community she knew that wasn’t going to be easy.
As he drove back to Carrenporth, Luke’s thoughts were on this morning’s events. The last person he’d expected to run into again was Cat Trevelyan. At the garage the other afternoon she looked different: T-shirt, jacket, her long blonde hair tied severely back from her face. His anger with her had overriddenany observations other than what an idiot she had been. This morning things were different and he did pay attention. Denim cut-offs revealing tanned legs; striped vest under a pale blue cotton hooded top. But it was her hair that grabbed his attention. Thick and blonde, today she had it twisted up and pinned with a tortoiseshell clip, tiny escaping tendrils teasing her face. Casual but sexy. He liked that look. Spoilt only by the arrogant tilt of her head as her dark eyes locked on his.
Of course, being a Trevelyan gave her celebrity status around here. She’d never known the fourteen-year-old who watched her from his window all those years ago, but he remembered her. From the moment he arrived at Clyffe House, whenever his uncle and aunt had visitors, Evie insisted he stayed in his room. The last thing she wanted was the embarrassment of her guests meeting the orphan who had been foisted on her. But it hadn’t stopped him watching from his bedroom window each time anyone arrived. He remembered the golden-haired girl he’d glimpsed then, full of self-assurance, and laughter as she held onto her father’s hand. And now? Well, he hated to say it, but she’d turned out exactly like his cousin Jordan – spoilt, opinionated and extremely rude.
Luke had known his place in the world for a very long time. He’d never known his real father. His mother refused to talk about him but he’d eventually learned it had been one of the mechanics at Arcadia. Ross Carrick had been the only proper father he’d ever known. For a time he’d bought stability into his young life. But his death, followed almost a year later by his mother’s suicide, had swept all that security away. At thirteen he found himself living at Clyffe House, the Hunter’s grand family home with an aunt who despised him and an uncle who although he meant well, never seemed to be around. This gave Evie Hunter plenty of opportunity to bully and intimidate him, constantly reminding him he wasn’t quite one of them. For herown son Jordan nothing was too much and Luke watched him grow into a spoilt, pampered youth. Despite Evie’s constant harassment Luke excelled at school, had a keen interest in cars and as he grew older, began to help out at his uncle’s dealership. He delayed university, choosing instead to get technical qualifications first. By the time he eventually headed for Exeter and a Management Degree his plan was to work for Gavin and pay him back all the financial support he’d been given.
Returning a couple of months ago from a two-year back packing trip around Australia and South East Asia, he’d already made the decision not to return to Clyffe House. It proved a wise choice. Time away had in no way mellowed Evie’s attitude; her dislike of him appeared even more intense.
Instead he’d found a safe haven in his mother’s old cottage. Organising the refurbishment and refurnishing of the place a couple of years after her death, Gareth had used it as a holiday let. Currently it stood empty, allowing him to move straight in. The place was tidy but in need of updating; something which had currently become an on-going project.
Easing back into community life, he soon realised that in the time he had been gone, nothing had changed. In the eyes of some of this small and very conservative community he was still regarded as the illegitimate son of Selina Hunter. Which is exactly how, he thought disappointedly, Cat Trevelyan probably viewed him.
Chapter Five
Today, Tarwin House was celebrating Martyn Riley and Tonya Brown’s wedding. A very special day, thought Cat, as she paused in the archway leading from the main hotel to the function suite. Martyn and Tonya were locals. He worked at Arcadia in Sales and Tonya had a mobile hairdressing business. Everyone knew them, which meant most of the village would be here later to join the celebrations. She checked her watch. The ceremony, which was due to take place at St Andrews, the local parish church on the edge of the village, should already be underway.
After a final briefing with her team and checking with Anton that sparkling rosé had been added to the wine choices, she’d slipped in here for one last tour of the room. She took her time, making sure places were correctly set, cutlery and glass were spotless, and each table display of pink roses dewy perfection. Building this function suite had been the best thing her father had ever done.
Although only seventeen at the time, Ruan had included her in every aspect of the build. She had become an integral part of the creation of this room with its bi-fold doors leading out onto a stunning glass and chrome edged balcony. On this early June morning, the rhododendrons in the hotel gardens were a perfect explosion of reds, creams and purples. A flawless backdrop for this special day. Finishing her inspection, she lingered for a moment, taking in the view once more before she finally left, taking the lift up to her room to change.
Luke wandered into the lounge bar of the Tarwin House Hotel, ordered a beer and leaned against the counter. He could hear the pulse of the disco from the function suite. In his pocket sat Martyn Riley’s invitation card. It had come as a total surprise;he hadn’t expected the young salesman to include him in today’s celebrations. Five years had made quite a difference. That’s how long he had been away from Carrenporth and Arcadia. Three at uni and two travelling. There were still a few people who remembered him from his pre-uni days, but it was mostly a new, younger team there, some of whom didn’t even realise his connection to Gareth. However, in the weeks he’d been back he seemed to be rubbing along quite well with the service team. They were a good natured, noisy bunch who regularly hung out together after work. Of course, he’d never be a part of their scene even if he wasn’t a member of the Hunter clan. Too old. Too serious. Too everything, he mused.
‘Well, look at you all togged up,’ a loud voice said, disturbing his thoughts. Service receptionist Debbie Mason sidled up to him at the bar, all lip gloss and red acrylic nails, her hair woven into an elaborate if rather precarious style on top of her head. Luke smiled, aware of her speculative gaze. In her early thirties, single and overweight, she had a reputation: one of being a woman on a mission, desperate to bag herself a man. The guys in the department weren’t very kind. Luke didn’t like the sort of language they used when they talked about her. He knew they referred to her as Desperate Debbie or The Incredible Bulk. Tonight, the first time he’d seen her out of work, made him realise how she’d come by such a title. If she was serious about finding someone permanent in her life, a tight, low-cut dress and trowelled on make-up were sending out all the wrong signals.
‘Fancy buying a girl a drink then?’ She nudged his elbow and gave him a cheeky wink as she heaved herself onto an adjacent bar stool. Luke caught a strong smell of alcohol competing with the perfume she wore, which clearly accounted for her unusually familiar manner. ‘And before you ask,’ she leaned and whispered seductively in his ear, ‘my poison is Prosecco.’
Attracting Carl the barman’s attention, he ordered her a glass. She sat beside him sipping quietly as he chatted to Carl about his travels in South East Asia. Throughout his conversation he caught her gaze from the corner of his eye, plotting, no doubt, how to get him back to her place for the night. Well, that was definitely not going to happen. A group of hotel guests arrived and Carl moved up the bar to deal with their pre-dinner order, giving her the opportunity she had been looking for.
‘So,’ she said as she set her glass down on the bar, ‘fancy finding you here this evening. Alone as well.’ She licked her lips and smiled. ‘I was sure the guys said you had a girlfriend.’
Luke sensed the beginning of a fishing expedition with him as the prime catch.
‘Did they?’ He gave a non-committal shrug, wanting to avoid responding to a dangerous question like that.
