Passionate Winter. Carole Mortimer

      The Passionate Winter

      Carole Mortimer

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      Table of Contents

       Cover

       Title Page

      CHAPTER ONE

      CHAPTER TWO

      CHAPTER THREE

      CHAPTER FOUR

      CHAPTER FIVE

      CHAPTER SIX

       CHAPTER SEVEN

       CHAPTER EIGHT

       CHAPTER NINE

       CHAPTER TEN

       Copyright

       CHAPTER ONE

      ‘WELL, I still think you’re making a mistake,’ repeated Karen, her youthful face pensive. ‘You’ve only known Gavin a couple of months.’

      ‘Long enough to know he isn’t quite the rake you’re making him out to be,’ Leigh grinned at her friend, grateful for her concern but hoping it would be needless. ‘Honestly, he’s quite harmless.’

      She only hoped that she believed what she was saying. Gavin was harmless, at least she hoped so. She was now beginning to regret her impulsive acceptance of his invitation to stay at his father’s country home for the weekend. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now she wasn’t so sure. After all, Karen was right, she didn’t know Gavin that well. She was prevented from saying any more by the arrival of the boy she had just been talking to Karen about.

      As usual Gavin looked perfectly relaxed and casual in a tee-shirt and tight-fitting jeans, making Leigh think how silly her thoughts had been. At eighteen, the same age as herself, Gavin was rather handsome in a boyish sort of way. Long dark brown hair grew low to his collar, a firm slightly immature chin jutting out purposefully below a constantly curving mouth that gave the impression of good humour, and laughing blue eyes, all added up to a very attractive picture indeed.

      ‘Hi,’ he smiled at the two girls before seating himself in one of the only two armchairs they possessed. ‘Ready?’ he asked Leigh.

      ‘If you are.’ Leigh picked up her tiny overnight case. She had only packed a spare tee-shirt and extra underwear, being assured by Gavin that she wouldn’t need anything else.

      ‘Be good,’ warned Karen as she let them out of the flat she shared with Leigh.

      ‘Of course,’ replied Leigh, wishing Karen wouldn’t keep making comments like that. She had felt perfectly relaxed about this weekend until Karen began giving her doubts.

      Gavin opened the passenger door of his bright red Spitfire and helped Leigh into the low car. Leigh looked about her appreciatively at the low leather seats and the highly technical-looking dials. This was certainly nothing like her old Mini. The car had been an eighteenth birthday present to Gavin from his father and it was the first time Leigh had seen it.

      ‘What a super car!’ she exclaimed as Gavin climbed agilely in beside her.

      Gavin flicked on the ignition before answering her. ‘It is, isn’t it?’ he grinned. ‘Dad picked it out for me.’

      They were now driving through the busy streets of London and Leigh for one felt glad to be leaving the rush and bustle for a couple of days. At the moment, with Christmas only three weeks away, everyone was in too much of a hurry to consider other shoppers and Leigh was usually one of the people to get trampled underfoot.

      ‘The insurance must cost you a fortune for a car like this at your age.’ There was no doubt about it, this was a beautiful car, and Leigh knew it must have cost a small fortune.

      Gavin shook his head, changing gear smoothly and efficiently. ‘Not me—Dad. He included the insurance as part of the present. I could never afford to pay it on my allowance.’

      ‘You must have a very wealthy father,’ she said, completely without guile, settling more comfortably into her low black leather bucket seat.

      He grinned at her as they left the London traffic far behind them. ‘He is,’ he said without conceit. ‘Very much so.’

      ‘And he spoils you.’

      ‘No,’ Gavin replied slowly, ‘I wouldn’t ever say that. Oh, I know he bought me this car, but that was only because it was my coming of age birthday. He isn’t usually as generous. I mean, if I were spoilt would I bother to go to college so that I can learn a profession? Now would I?’

      Leigh snorted with laughter. ‘You call art a profession?’

      ‘It is if you’re good enough.’

      ‘And are you?’ she asked mischievously, her violet-coloured eyes twinkling with amusement. ‘Good enough, I mean.’

      Gavin looked slightly sheepish, some of his brash self-confidence deserting him for a moment. ‘I wish I were, but I’m afraid I’m going to be a failure at that as well as everything else I’ve ever tried to do.’

      Leigh laughed lightly at his woebegone expression. ‘You’re only eighteen, Gavin, you can hardly have tried that many things.’

      ‘You think not?’ he grimaced. ‘Well, you’re wrong. I tried to get into university, and failed—Dad is paying for this course for me. I also tried racing driving, and failed.’

      ‘Racing driving!’ echoed Leigh, astounded at the thought. ‘Whatever for?’

      Gavin glanced sideways at her. ‘That’s what Dad did. Didn’t I tell you? I thought I had.’

      She shook her head. ‘I would certainly have remembered something like that. A racing driver! Was he really?’ she asked disbelievingly.

      ‘Mmm. And he was good at it too. I wasn’t.’

      ‘I should hope not!’ Leigh said in a disgusted voice. ‘That’s no profession for anyone, let alone someone your age.’

      ‘Dad was even younger when he started competitive driving.’

      ‘Your father had no right to push you into a profession he’s too old to compete in himself.’

      Gavin laughed out aloud at her outrage. ‘Dad isn’t old. And he didn’t force me into anything—in fact he warned me against it.’

      Leigh smiled knowingly. ‘So you instantly wanted to try it,’ she turned to look out of the window. ‘I know the feeling. My mother warned me against secretarial college, said I would be bored within a few weeks—and she was right too. It’s very disconcerting, isn’t it? Parents always seem to be right, don’t they?’

      ‘Well, Dad didn’t rub it in, if that’s what you mean. But to tell you the truth, I think he was quite relieved it didn’t work out. But then, so am I. Not at the time maybe, but I am now. It’s a very rough life.’

      ‘But exciting?’

      Gavin shrugged his shoulders. ‘I suppose so. But my mother didn’t think so. She walked out and left Dad when I was three years old. Thank God she didn’t take me with her!’

      Leigh made no comment, sensing an underlying bitterness at his mother’s early rejection