In His Eyes. Emmie Dark

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      CHAPTER THREE

      HUGHHADBEENWATCHING proceedings from the sidelines. It had taken him a while to calm down his hot-tempered chef, furious that Hugh had sprung catering for a crowd of at least fifty on him with about ten minutes’ notice. And right before a fully booked dinner service, too. As the chef had railed about the insanity of the idea, Hugh had been on autopilot, placating him while at the same time he was internally agreeing with him.

      He’d made up some rational-sounding reasons, but the whole thing was crazy. Why was he doing this? As a tactic to warm Zoe Waters to the idea of selling Waterford to him, it had already failed miserably—her reaction in the car had told him that as much as her forced smile from across the room did now. He couldn’t pinpoint why he’d thought it might work in the first place.

      Mack Waters and he had certainly never been friends. The bitter enmity between Mack and Hugh’s father, Pete Lawson, hadn’t ended at his father’s death—it had simply been transferred to Hugh. And, if anything, Hugh had even more reason to dislike the stubborn old goat. The cantankerous-but-kind-at-heart-if-you-look-hard-enough man people were speaking of today was not someone Hugh had ever known. Mack Waters had been cranky, vengeful, rude and argumentative.

      Hugh had gone out of his way to try to move on from the past, to offer assistance as it became clear that Waterford was foundering under Mack’s failing health. Mack hadn’t even pretended to listen.

      It didn’t help that whenever he and Mack had tried to talk business they seemed to be stuck in a time warp. When they were forced to interact, Mack always treated Hugh as if he was still seventeen and Hugh found himself responding in kind. It frustrated him no end that no matter what he’d achieved in life—the money he’d made, the wine he’d created and sold around the world—as far as Mack was concerned, Hugh was still the boy who’d taken his granddaughter’s innocence.

      Hugh had never bothered to correct him, but in truth it had very much been the other way around. Zoe Waters had been like a thrilling adventure park in comparison to Hugh’s sheltered upbringing and good-boy persona. She’d introduced him to sex, drugs and rock ’n’ roll—not necessarily in that order. Mack Waters had made it clear that he blamed Hugh for Zoe’s troubles. How the old man didn’t see that those troubles had begun long before Hugh had come on the scene—and that Mack himself had had a significant role to play—Hugh would never know.

      He gritted his teeth and surveyed the room of people cheerily drinking his wine, toasting the old man whose presence just across the fence line had cast a shadow over Hugh’s whole life. He wouldn’t be joining in the celebration. He’d get on with his life, just as he had all these years. And maybe now his long-held plans to possess the Waterford Estate would finally come to fruition.

      There was just one fly in the ointment. She was sitting across the room from him right now, a strained smile on her face.

      Watching Zoe, he was again struck by the difference between the wild child he’d known and the woman who appeared before him. A woman who, if she’d been anyone else, Hugh could admit he found attractive. Very attractive.

      Her hair was its natural shiny brunette, none of the bright purple or fire-engine red she’d experimented with from time to time back at school. There were some lighter streaks in it now, probably the result of the California sunshine. Her makeup was restrained, no dark circles of kohl. She’d once liked to draw those on him, as well. She’d insisted it looked cool and that all the male rock stars wore makeup, but Hugh knew Tangawarra and knew that the town wasn’t ready for boys in eyeliner. He’d always washed it off before anyone else had seen.

      A smattering of freckles had appeared across her nose—they were new. Otherwise, her skin was still the pale creamy porcelain that he remembered.

      Very pale.

      A surprising stab of sympathy for Zoe shot through him as Frank appealed to her to get up and speak. He knew she’d hate doing anything of the sort. When he looked across at her, the stark terror on her face sent an unexpected wave of protectiveness СКАЧАТЬ