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He’d never noticed before the little flecks of gold in her beautiful eyes.They drew a man’s attention as compellingly as pollen drew bees. They instantly reminded him of another bewitching creature -- someone he should never have let escape so easily and would now no doubt, live to regret that deed. All because of stupid pride!

As fierce, helpless longing arose inside him, Ethan gazed at the stunning perfection of rippling dark hair flowing over buttermilk-smooth shoulders and silently concluded that the bewitching Rosa was everything a man could desire in a beautiful woman -- the epitome of femininity.

And so was Serena.

He’d become aware of her lack of experience when he’d so eagerly bedded her -- there was no way that she would have even considered going that far, just to get him to sell her the portrait! But now she was gone and he had had no idea how to even get in touch with her. It served him bloody well right! He shouldn’t have been so quick to judge her.

Laying the portrait to one side, he released a long heartfelt sigh. His mother had adored the painting -- she’d told him how she’d envied the imagined freedom and way of life that Rosa seemed to epitomize. Emily Lucas -- with her own difficult unhappy circumstances, had good cause for envy. Ben Galbraith -- Ethan’s father -- had been a bastard to her. He was long dead now -- his addiction to drink having killed him -- and so was Emily. She’d taken her own life to escape the pain of such a disastrous marriage.

A twist of pain in his gut, Ethan began to read a letter his mother had given to him before she died. It was from the man she’d been in love with and it had been years since Ethan had looked at it. Ghosts -- he seemed to be surrounded by them. He hung his head, longing for the warmth of human touch more than he could possibly say...

* * *

“It’s a bit chilly out here -- shall I fetch another blanket?”

Fussing around the distinguished silver-haired man seated on the garden seat facing the immaculate lawn, Serena tried not to focus on the strain that was grooved deeply into Godfrey Baillon’s weathered and lined face. No matter what he had said to try and comfort her, it had still been a blow to him for her to return home without the portrait.

Her stomach fluttered nervously with helpless longing when she thought about the man who now owned that portrait -- Ethan Galbraith. He probably loathed and despised her after what had happened between them in London. Was it really only a bare week since she’d seen him? Now she knew she would never see him again. A destroying ache gripped her heart.

“I’m not cold at all! I know you mean well, Serena, but I’m enjoying the first spot of real sunshine we’ve had for days. Now come and sit down beside me and relax for a little while.”

They both glanced round in surprise at the sound of car tires crunching on the gravel drive.

“See who that is, will you dear?” Godfrey instructed.

* * *

“Ethan!”

Trembling in shock, Serena stared at the rueful expression crossing his irresistibly handsome visage and put the flat of her hand against her stomach to calm herself. “What are you doing here? How did you find me?”

“Thank God for the village post office that’s all I can say! You told me you lived in Ilverton-in-the-Moor and that it was on Dartmoor. Everyone here has heard of Godfrey Baillon it seems, so it wasn’t too difficult to track you down. Aren’t you going to invite me in? I’ve had a hell of a drive.”

Serena was still shaking as she led Ethan into the house and out through the patio doors into the sun-filled garden. What his presence meant exactly she hardly dared speculate, but she hoped it wasn’t anything that was going to upset Godfrey. He was so fragile right now and they had to guard his health.

“Godfrey? We have a visitor -- Ethan Galbraith -- the man I told you about from London. Remember?”

Her hazel eyes devoured Ethan, noting with secret delight how gorgeous he looked dressed in casual black jeans and a white linen shirt, opened at the neck.

“Mr. Galbraith -- pleasure to meet you!” Godfrey extended his hand and Ethan stared, apparently dumbfounded by shock.

“But you’re blind!” he exclaimed.

Godfrey smiled. “You are wondering why I would be so interested in buying a beautiful portrait if I had not the sight to appreciate it? I do not need to see the face of Rosa again to recall how bewitching it is, dear man! Her face has been imprinted on my mind for more years than I care to recall. All I wanted was to have it near again... to know that it was back where it belonged. Forgive me if that causes you any offence.”

Ethan felt a rush of blood to his head, turned his glance towards a frowning Serena and sensed a rush of blood go to a far more controversial place. She looked pretty as a picture herself out here in the sunshine -- a ravishing rose amongst a garden of gorgeous roses. He swallowed hard and diverted his attention back to Godfrey.

“No offence taken. You knew my mother I believe? That’s one of the reasons why I’ve come.”

“One of the reasons?” Serena asked quickly.

“Do I, dear boy?”

“Her name was Emily Lucas. She’s the reason I wanted to buy the portrait. When it hung in your family home all those years ago when you first met, she loved it so much. Sadly she’s gone now, but when I saw it was up for sale, naturally I wanted to buy it.”

“Emily? You’re Emily’s boy?”

“I had a copy of a letter she had from you years ago. The connection clicked with me when I became aware of your name and address at the top of the page. I suddenly recalled Serena mentioning that she worked for someone with that name and that you lived in Devon. It all fell into place then. Why you were so desperate to buy the portrait back... Everything.”

Ethan’s mother had been Godfrey’s childhood sweetheart? Astounded, Serena felt her own eyes blur with tears. Now it all made sense why he’d been so adamant that he didn’t want to let the portrait go. Both men had an intimate connection to that lovely picture. Ethan hadn’t wanted to acquire it just for the sake of adding to his already considerable collection of art.

“’Money’ was expected to marry ‘money’ in those days,” Godfrey explained brokenly. “Your mother came here from London to work as a home help and although my parents liked her, they absolutely forbade me to marry her. Consequently, Emily went her way and I, mine. I am so sorry that I wasn’t strong enough of character to make her my wife.”

Seeing the older man’s distress, Ethan laid a consoling hand on his shoulder.

“It’s all ‘water under the bridge’ as they say. I’ve brought the portrait with me, Mr. Baillon.... I want you to have it”

“My dear boy!”

* * *

“I knew you had a soft streak beneath that hard-bitten veneer!” Smiling provocatively in the shade of an apple tree heavy with flower, Serena finally found herself alone with Ethan and in his arms.

“You’re right. It is just a veneer. Underneath I’m a veritable pussycat!” He did a mock growl and grazed her neck with his teeth.

“Seriously...it was a wonderful thing you did giving Godfrey the portrait.”

“It’s where it belongs, my darling, just as I am where I belong!”

The End




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