A Fiery Baptism. LYNNE GRAHAM

madcap conversation was steadily easing Sarah’s tension. ‘We are just friends. He recently transferred here from New York. He’s a widower. His wife died of leukaemia last year,’ she related ruefully. ‘Understandably he’s not over that yet. It must have been harrowing for him.’

      Karen was aghast. ‘Oh, no!’ she groaned. ‘I’ll have to take him off the bar now! No wonder he looked so grim when I was reduced to my tinker, tailor rhyme and came up with undertaker.’ Her friend’s embarrassment ebbed fast and her generous mouth slowly upcurved again. ‘But on the other hand, I’d say that Gordon is coping with his tragic loss rather better than you suspect. The one time he didn’t look as locked up as a bank vault was when I was trailing him away from you. Gordon, my pet, is half in love with you already!’

      Sarah stared at her in astonishment. ‘Of course he isn’t. I hardly know him. He’s spent a couple of weekends with my parents. We’ve lunched once or twice, gone to the theatre…that’s all.’

      Karen shook her head in exasperation. ‘You’re dating him, Sarah. You just haven’t noticed yet.’

      ‘You don’t understand,’ Sarah protested uneasily.

      ‘Casual acquaintances aren’t as protective as guard dogs,’ Karen teased. ‘And you are far too beautiful to inspire purely platonic thoughts. Why should that be a problem?’

      ‘Gordon and I have been quite frank with each other, Karen.’ Sarah was maintaining her amused smile with difficulty. ‘Neither of us is interested in emotional involvement. I like him but that really is all there is to it.’

      ‘He’s handsome, successful and free and the best you can do is like the guy?’ Karen was quite appalled by the admission. ‘What am I going to do with you? Is this the female who knocked our entire school on its ear by eloping with an exceptionally ineligible foreigner in Upper Sixth? You went out in style, my pet. What happened to all that risk-taking passion and spontaneity?’

      Sarah’s facial muscles locked, what colour she had recovered evaporating. ‘I grew up,’ she muttered tightly.

      ‘No. You buried yourself,’ Karen argued. ‘Look, I’ve never pressed you…well, not seriously pressed, for a single gory detail about your marriage. I know it must have been very painful because if it hadn’t been you’d have been able to talk about it by now. But there’s more to life than motherhood, Sarah. Goodness knows, everyone’s allowed to make one mistake. First time round you obviously landed a prize bastard. So what? I don’t think I’d have done much better choosing a life partner at eighteen, but you don’t let one bad experience put you into permanent retirement!’

      ‘Lecture over?’ Sarah prompted. A drink or two and Karen became a crusader. Unfortunately Karen just didn’t know what she was talking about.

      Venting a rather rude word, Karen leapt up to renew her lipstick at the mirror. ‘You don’t know how lucky you are. Gordon’s cute. I fancied him the instant I laid eyes on him!’

      Sarah’s taut mouth twitched. ‘Feel free.’

      Karen sent her a wry glance. ‘I’d need a rope and tackle. He’s taken. And he’s tailor-made for you. At least give him a chance.’

      The idea that Gordon might actually want that chance disturbed Sarah. Could Karen be right? Her friend was surprisingly perceptive about people. Her snap judgements were often spot on. If Karen was right about Gordon, Sarah would have to stop seeing him.

      ‘Holy Moses! I’ve a head like a sieve!’ Karen gasped, comic dismay widening her eyes. ‘I forgot about my celebrity guest. What are we doing in here? One of the models I worked with in Italy simply walked in with him as cool as you please. Rafael Alejandro! Here! In my humble home. Can you believe that?’

      Deception didn’t come naturally to Sarah. ‘Alejandro…the painter?’

      ‘Dear God, is there another one around? He’s only one of the most famous artists alive!’ Karen stressed. ‘Considering that most of them have to drop dead to achieve recognition, we are talking here about fame as in serious fame, fame with a capital F!’

      ‘I believe he’s a remarkably talented artist.’ Even to her own ears, Sarah sounded wooden.

      ‘Believe me, when you look at him his skill with a paintbrush is about the last thing on your mind.’ Karen was dry, annoyed by Sarah’s refusal to be impressed. ‘Newsprint doesn’t do him justice.’

      ‘The gossip columns do.’

      Karen dropped her offended stare and grinned. ‘Sarah, my innocent, when you get an incredibly beautiful man the wild reputation goes with the territory. “Mad, bad and dangerous to know” may not be you but you haven’t seen him yet. The guy is pure fantasy. I swear my hormones went into a feeding frenzy on the doorstep!’

      As Sarah stood up, her conscience twanged. Sarah would be upset when she found that the rare bird had flown in her absence. ‘More you than Gordon?’

      ‘No. I like to appreciate but I’ve no ambition to touch…well, at least not in my sane mind,’ Karen confided with her usual devotion to the absolute truth. ‘I prefer my men less…what do they call it in Spain? Muy hombre? A volatile artistic genius would be much too unpredictable for me.’

      In actuality, Rafael was not unpredictable, Sarah reflected helplessly. He did what he wanted, when he wanted, how he wanted. He had a tongue like a whip and a convoluted, brilliant mind that thought round corners into the dark, secret places other people sensibly left alone.

      ‘Anyway, he’s reputed to be fantastically clever as well,’ Karen rattled on. ‘I’m not running myself down but I’m no Einstein and you just couldn’t be in control with a guy like that. It’s fatuous but people will talk about this party forever simply because he’s here.’ Karen pulled open the door to find Gordon raising a hand to knock on it. Half amused, half irritated, she said, ‘I underestimated you. Have you got a homing device planted on her?’

      Gordon smiled and looked through her simultaneously. Karen flushed and muttered something about food in the oven.

      ‘Sorry, was I ages? We got caught up,’ Sarah said lightly.

      ‘I got taken over,’ Gordon shared wryly. ‘You were right. She’s not at all like you. She’s like a great overgrown schoolgirl.’

      ‘She’s a lovely person and there’s not an ounce of malice in her.’

      Reluctantly he smiled. ‘Can you imagine the havoc she’d wreak if there were? Her brain is two steps behind her conversation.’

      ‘I wonder why she thought you were cute.’

      ‘Cute?’ His nostrils flared fastidiously.

      ‘A compliment you do not deserve.’

      Unexpectedly he laughed, his pugnacious aspect vanishing. ‘I think of fluffy toys as cute but I was out of order. Let’s grab a seat,’ he suggested.

      Gordon being Gordon there was no need to grab or even to search. He guided her between a low table and sofa, stowing her down in one corner. Ten seconds later he reappeared with two drinks he had evidently stashed somewhere near by in readiness. Gordon was always well organised. Meeting the level scrutiny she had been self-consciously evading, Sarah smiled. For once, Karen had made a mistake. Purely platonic friendship was perfectly possible between sensible people.

      Her wandering gaze suddenly jolted to a halt. Shock reverberated through her in sickening waves and her fingers curled into her evening bag like white-knuckled talons, bracing for attack.

      Rafael was lounging on the matching sofa on the other side of the low table. Her throat closed over. Every long lean line of his magnificent body emanated unnatural relaxation. There was a reckless violence in the dark, glittering stare that entrapped hers across the divide. Her ability to breathe was suffocated at source.

      ‘The punch has the kick of a mule,’ Gordon told