The Fall Of Jacob Del Garda (5 page)

Later that afternoon, the whop, whop, whop of a helicopter brought the twins out onto the deck of the cabin.

Gabriella put an arm around Sophie’s waist and squeezed. "Er... I meant to tell you." Their eyes met. "Tobin’s staying with us for a few days. I owe him an explanation and an apology for leaving him high and dry. And I need to do it face-to-face. There’s plenty of room here and he’s bringing a contract for signature." The flash of pain on Sophie’s face gave Gabriella such a jolt she stared at her for a full four seconds. "Oh God, it’s going to be a problem, isn’t it?"

Although Sophie’s eyes were wide with shock and distress, she shook her head.

"Of course there won’t be a problem. It’s been a while that’s all. Seeing Tobin again is an unexpected... surprise." But Gabriella wasn’t fooled as Sophie took a shaky breath, gave her a too bright smile. "This isn’t about me. Didn’t I say you needed emotional support?"

"If Tobin makes you feel uncomfortable...’ Gabriella cocked her head and studied Sophie’s pale face.

Her sister gave her another pitiful attempt at a smile. "No. We’ll be fine."

But Gabriella wasn’t buying it.

After three years she'd hoped her sister and her agent might manage to be in the same room together without ripping out each other’s throat.

Tobin Gillespie loved her like a brother, plus he was her friend. A friend she’d kept in the dark for over a year. And that had been wrong of her. Gabriella had no idea what had gone wrong between Sophie and Tobin. Her sister had categorically refused to discuss it. A confused and dismayed Tobin had told Gabriella he’d no idea why Sophie had walked out on him. He’d even flown to England to see her and had returned furious and swearing off, "Bloody women."

Not that he’d sworn off women for long.

Tobin was a gorgeous looking man. A healthy man with a healthy libido. But none of the women had stuck. For years he’d had a revolving door of leggy brunettes with large breasts, women who looked the complete opposite of Sophie.

And Gabriella knew it didn’t take a shrink to work out why.

But at the moment she couldn’t face a big emotional drama between her agent and her sister. That might make her a coward, but she didn't want to get caught in the crossfire. Gabriella decided to leave them to it. There was plenty of time to talk to Tobin later.

Another wave of exhaustion overwhelmed her, but she had work to do.

"I’ve a pre-party photo shoot with Coco and Rafael at Ludlow Hall. Go and say hello to him. He’ll be thrilled to see you."

Sophie stared at her twin’s back as she left her alone with the man who’d almost destroyed her.

Yeah right. Thrilled, my ass.

With a jaundiced eye, and the usual dead feeling in her heart that she got whenever she thought of Tobin Gillespie, Sophie watched the helicopter hover above the lawn in preparation to land.

Typical!

He always travelled in style.

No traffic jams for the great Tobin Gillespie.

The urge to flee swept over her as her fingernails bit into the soft flesh of her palms. This was a complication she needed like a hole in the head. Sophie berated herself for being a selfish bitch. But the fact that Gabriella had taken the crucial first step to let Tobin back into her life meant she needed him, so she’d just have to suck it up.

The nerves dancing in her belly irritated the merry hell out of her, too.

This was ridiculous.

Tobin was only a man.

A lying, cheating, low life scumbag of a man.

The bitter taste of old anger rode to Sophie's rescue and her spine snapped straight.

She could handle him.

And if he stepped out of line, just once, he’d be singing soprano for the rest of his miserable life.

She’d be doing womankind a favour.

The helicopter landed.

The engine whined down.

The cockpit door swung open and Sophie had to force herself not to wipe suddenly damp palms over her jeans. How could she have forgotten how big he was? Head down, his thick brows were pinched into a frown over his sunglasses. He stared intently at the screen as he scrolled down the messages on his Smartphone.

He hadn't changed.

Bastard.

He was still as sexy as hell. A real life Chris Hemsworth. A Norse God. Tobin even had a big hammer, so to speak. Her eyes flickered over enormous shoulders clad in a battered chocolate-brown leather flying jacket, over black denim jeans clinging lovingly to toned muscle, down long legs to brown boots as worn as his jacket. His dirty blonde hair was too long. Slicked back and tied back at his neck. His piercing silver eyes were hidden behind dark glasses, which was just as well since those eyes had the impact of a speeding bullet to the heart. Add in the golden skin and the best ass she'd ever seen in a pair of jeans, and any woman with a pulse would be on her knees before him. The raw and unrelieved virility of the man sent her stomach into a shocking plunge, as heat rushed into her skin along with a roar in her ears.

And once upon a time, he'd been all hers.

God, Sophie nearly whimpered, because she was in deep, deep trouble.

Tobin carried a lightweight suitcase, checked his messages, and with ground eating strides strode towards Sophie Dolman. Behind Ray bans his eyes scanned her from head to toe. The short blonde hair was a surprise, but it suited her. Christ, she was even more beautiful than he’d remembered.

However, the face staring at him now was not a happy face.

He watched the conflict of emotions cross her stunning features. A mix of shock, anger and pure disdain. He supposed it was too much to expect a warm and fuzzy welcome from her, even for old time’s sake. The only hatchet Sophie buried would be right between his shoulder blades.

He stopped before her.

And knowing full well it would annoy her, he slipped his glasses into his pocket and took his own sweet time checking her out.

The years had sharpened her cheekbones and finely carved the line of her jaw. The flawless skin was lightly tanned and only enhanced the magnificent hazel of her eyes. Just one look from those big eyes and his skin contracted as if her fingernails were running a relentless path across his flesh. Especially the flesh between his legs.

Jesus.

Tobin took great care to show no reaction to her beauty, matching her cold, calculating stare with one of his own.

Much as he’d enjoy it, he wasn’t here to cross swords with her.

Not yet.

"Where is she?" he asked in a deep and gravelly voice.

Hands on hips, the woman who'd broken his heart glared at him.

"She's got a shoot with Coco and Rafe at Ludlow Hall. Which is just as well because I am not happy about this, Tobin." Voice tight with tension, Sophie flayed him with those amazing eyes.

Nope.

Not a sign of warmth or welcome and it irritated the fucking hell out of him.

Her chin rose.

It cost him, but he resisted the urge to flick that chin with a finger.

Instead he went with one word, "Tough."

He bent his head and went nose to nose with her, and regretted it immediately.

That wonderful, familiar scent of her made him go hard. Too hard. Too fast.

Sophie did it to him every single time.

Three years later, and bugger all had changed.

But, Christ, she looked stunning.

All flashing hazel eyes, flushed cheeks, and swollen mouth.

Nope.

Don't think about her mouth.

Flying in the face of the pure acid in her voice, a light floral scent along with warm woman, and something that was pure Sophie, spun around his sharpened senses bringing back never-to-be-forgotten memories. Sex-filled memories of hot moans and low groans. Another too quick tightening in his groin nearly made him hiss out loud.

"Me being here is not about you, is it?" he said. Unwanted desire made his voice hard. He dropped his suitcase, and of their own accord his big hands rested on her slim shoulders. "Are you gonna tell me what this shit is all about? What is going on with her?"

Tobin caught a flare of something beyond pain in those big hazel eyes.

He blinked.

For Sophie to expose herself and her feelings like that, to him, then something bad had happened. Alarm raced up his spine and he forced himself to keep his voice soft and gentle.

"I love her too, Legs."

How could she have forgotten the sound of his voice, sultry, sexy and dangerous?

If anything the years had toughened him. Now those grey eyes appeared more challenging and suddenly she saw a flash of the old desire. But before she could feel annoyance, Sophie saw something else. She couldn't take her eyes from his and read the confusion, the anxiety. And even though she hated him with every single beat of her heart she knew that for her sister's sake she must put her feelings for Tobin aside.

Gabriella needed him.

"She's sick," she said.

Eyes that were more silver than grey went wide and intense.

"How sick?"

Dear heaven how was she going to tell him? Sweat beaded on her top lip and Sophie swiped her mouth with the back of her hand. A hand that shook. Now she understood exactly how hard it was for Gabriella to say the word. A word with too much power. Power to hurt and destroy.

"Cancer," she whispered.

And she winced as his big hands gripped her shoulders too hard, as his breath hitched, as he wrapped his arms around her, and pulled her close, and as he held her tight.

"No," he whispered brokenly into her hair, his big body trembling with the shock of it.

And just like that Sophie wound her arms under his jacket, over his black cashmere sweater, her hands rubbing circles on his broad back as if he was an infant, giving him the comfort they both needed.

How long they stood like that she had no idea, but it was the first time in their lives that they were touching each other without lust and without anger.

Then he took a step back.

The strong hand cupping her jaw forced her eyes to meet his.

The pad of his thumb gently rubbed away a fat tear on her cheek.

"Tell me."

It was a harsh command given from a man used to people jumping to it. However, she heard the pain, too, and for once she let him get away with it.

"The short version is that a year ago she found a lump in her breast and didn't think anything of it. She'd been feeling tired, but put it down to the crazy making wedding plans and the stress of trying to juggle too many balls in the air. She didn't mention it to Jacob, or to you, or to me, because she didn't want to worry us. You know what she's like." He nodded, white teeth worrying his full bottom lip. Sophie took a breath. "Anyway, they did a biopsy and it came back positive for breast cancer. After a CAT scan the good news was that it hadn't spread to her lymph nodes, but the cancer was aggressive and so she opted for a double mastectomy and reconstruction. There's also other stuff going on that I won't get into, about our genes. But recently she's felt unwell again... and..." but her breath hitched and she couldn't continue. Her eyes met his. "She's so terribly scared, Tobin."

"We... I mean... I'm here," he said, his deep voice so full of emotion it was more of a growl. Then he opened his mouth to say something else, changed his mind, and shook his head. "Why didn't she tell Jacob, or me? She must have known he would walk through the fires of hell for her, and that I would, too?"

She heard the confusion, the bewildered anguish in his voice.

Moving away from his touch, Sophie forced herself not to step into him again, not to take the comfort offered in those strong arms, it felt too damn good.

Wrapping her arms around herself she shook her head.

"Shock. Panic. I don't know. By the time I flew to England to be with her for her operation she was numb, like a walking automaton, and spouting absolute nonsense. She kept saying Jacob deserved a whole woman. A woman who could give him a family, a future. Each time I tried to get through to her, she closed me down. It was as if she just couldn't see past the next second, the next minute, the next hour. Apparently her dream has always been to be a photographer." She stopped and stared hard at Tobin with big wide eyes and couldn't keep the distress from her voice. "How did I not know that she wanted to be a photographer? Did you know that?"

Tobin shook his head, and she read a confusion in his eyes that mirrored her own.

"On location, she always had a camera around her neck, spent hours in a huddle with the photographers on a shoot, but I thought it was just a hobby. You know, something to pass the time. She never said."

Sophie nodded as her mind went back to those hellish days and weeks.

"Everything happened so fast. The endless appointments, scans, blood tests, discussions about reconstructive choices. She threw herself into research and decided on the double mastectomy with a plastic surgeon doing the reconstruction. She had implants put behind the wall of her breast muscles, and they were filled with saline every couple of weeks to stretch the muscle until a pocket was made for the permanent implants. We kept saying she'd dodged a bullet. Once she was back on her feet, she insisted I return to Kenya to finish my research. Threw herself twenty-four-seven into her photography. I think she's worked like a dog just to keep herself going. To not think about the future. But now she's sick and scared. And to tell you the truth, so am I."