The Socialite's Secret. Carol Marinelli

preconceived response to her that he’d had crumbled.

      Yes, there was an awful lot that needed to be discussed but Luke knew that Anya wasn’t the only vulnerable, critical casualty that had been bought into his department today. Scarlet was another and, at a very personal level, he cared about her so very much more. Luke didn’t want to let her go because, when he did so, back to her world Scarlet would return and so Luke took another moment to hold her.

      Scarlet held him too.

      She didn’t just lean on him, she had slipped her hands into his jacket and wrapped her arms around his solid waist and just breathed in the delicious scent of him. Tangy, musky, male. It was a scent that she had yearned for and never forgotten and one that had been made familiar again now.

      How could it be that he felt the same to her hands?

      After all that had gone on, how, on this day, could Luke’s arms be the ones that were holding her up?

      As she was in England she had hoped that they might meet, but she had expected harsh, accusing words to be hurled at her. Words that he had every right to deliver, but instead of that he held her and made the horrible world go away for a moment.

      As she had sat in the staffroom, waiting for news, Scarlet had blocked out the sounds of the people around her. Vince had been trying to speak with her, telling her what to say, insisting that her version of events wasn’t quite correct. Her mother’s manager, Sonia, had demanded to know where Scarlet had got to yesterday and why she hadn’t been there to see her mother go on stage.

      None of them knew about the row she’d had with her mother in the early hours and Scarlet had sat revisiting that as she’d done the best to block everyone else out.

      And then in the midst of the madness she had heard the calm deepness of Luke’s voice.

      Her frantic heart seemed to have stopped beating for a second.

      Oh, she had known that Luke was a doctor but she hadn’t known he worked in London. When they had met he had been here for an interview but had been unsure if he’d take the job.

      It had never entered her head that Luke might be here in the hospital and be the doctor fighting to save her mother’s life.

      Yet he was.

      When Scarlet had looked up she had felt the very same jolt that had run through her the night he had walked into the club and their worlds had changed for ever.

      He’d been wearing a suit that night and he was wearing one now.

      It was the little things she noticed and remembered.

      The other stuff was way too insurmountable for now.

      And, as Luke had the first night they had met, when she clung to him he pulled back.

      ‘Tell me.’ Scarlet held him tighter, not ready to let go. If the news was bad, and given the morning’s events she expected it to be, it was like this she wanted to hear it.

      ‘She’s doing better.’

      Scarlet held her breath.

      ‘Your mother briefly opened her eyes,’ Luke explained. ‘And she was fighting the breathing tube. That’s good. For now she’s been placed in an induced coma.’

      ‘Is she going to die?’ Scarlet asked.

      ‘I don’t think so but she came very close.’

      ‘I know,’ Scarlet said. ‘I called an ambulance.’

      ‘That’s good.’

      ‘You told me the number.’

      She took a splinter of their time and they both examined it for a moment. A little shard of conversation that, had it come from another, would have been swept away, never to be examined again, but both now recalled that tiny memory with absolute clarity.

      Scarlet looked up but not into his eyes.

      Never again, Scarlet knew, would she be able to meet that deep, chocolate-brown gaze. There was just too much regret and shame for that. Instead, she looked at that lovely unshaven jaw and the deep red of his mouth that had once delivered paradise.

      And Luke, feeling her eyes scan his mouth, despite the circumstance of this meeting, wanted to lower his to meet hers.

      It was as simple as that.

      But those days were gone and so, because he had to, he let her go. ‘Have a seat,’ Luke said in his best doctor’s voice.

      Calm, professional, detached.

      If he was going to do this properly then he could be no other way.

      Scarlet remained standing as Luke took off his jacket, threw it onto a chair and then went around the desk and sat down, waiting for her to do the same.

      ‘Tell me what happened.’ Luke kicked the interview off.

      ‘I told you,’ Scarlet said. ‘I called an ambulance. Vince had called for backup but they were taking for ever and—’

      ‘Scarlet,’ Luke interrupted, ‘we need to start at the beginning. Before this morning when did you last see your mother?’

      ‘Last night,’ Scarlet said, and watched as Luke picked up a pen and jotted something down. ‘There was a party to celebrate the end of her tour and …’ Scarlet shrugged but didn’t finish.

      ‘And how was she?’ Luke asked.

      ‘I didn’t make it to the party,’ Scarlet said. ‘I saw her back at the hotel.’

      ‘What time was that?’

      ‘About midnight.’

      ‘And how was she?’

      ‘Tired.’

      ‘Who was the last person to see her?’

      ‘Me,’ Scarlet said. ‘I think.’

      ‘Around midnight?’

      ‘Around one. Can you stop taking notes?’ Scarlet asked. ‘I can’t talk to you when you’re writing things down.’

      ‘Scarlet, these details are important,’ Luke said, but he did put down his pen.

      He’d been using it as a distraction.

      Not a word of this conversation would he ever forget.

      ‘You found her?’ Luke checked, and Scarlet gave a tense nod.

      ‘What time was that?’

      ‘Just before six.’

      ‘Were the two of you sharing a room?’

      ‘No.’ Scarlet frowned.

      ‘Were you staying in the same suite?’

      ‘No.’

      ‘So why were you in your mother’s room at six a.m.?’

      ‘I just went in to check on her.’

      ‘Why?’ Luke persisted.

      ‘Because I was worried about her.’

      ‘Why?’ Luke pushed, but Scarlet did not elaborate. ‘Come on, Scarlet. I can’t help if you don’t tell me.’

      ‘You can’t help me.’

      ‘I’m talking about your mother!’ Luke’s voice rose, just a fraction. It had to if they were going to stay on track. That little pull back served to remind not just Scarlet but himself that this was work. He watched her eyes fill with tears at the slight reprimand but he had to push through. When no further information was forthcoming he chose to be direct.

      ‘Has your mother been depressed lately?’

      ‘No, no.’ Scarlet shook her head. ‘It’s nothing like that. She just took too much.’

      ‘How,