Page 14 of Twin Flames
Cara leaned in towards his shoulder and peered at the manuscript. His masculine smell rushed at her senses. She tried to centre herself and to pay attention to his words.
What she suspected may have once been rich black lettering was now engraved in the dull yellow parchment in muted, brown tones.
‘It’s a beauty,’ she said, her eyes widened in wonder, and her dark eyelashes fluttered against her pale cheeks.
George stared at her face before tearing his gaze away to focus on the Tudor work of art.
‘It’s a collector’s item; last time we had it valued it was estimated at £200,000.’
‘I hope you’ve got insurance,’ said Cara, wondering if he knew how nervous she was.
As they pored over the parchment, their heads lightly touched, and their appreciation of both the manuscript and each other was tangible. A wonderful warm feeling enveloped them. It was the same feeling they’d shared at lunch.
Cara was bewitched by his eloquence and intrigued by their mutual fascination with the Tudor period.
They dragged out their time together, talking about every possible aspect of the manuscript they could each think of until George reluctantly popped it back into the cabinet and turned towards her.
‘What are your plans for the rest of the day?’
‘I have to get back to the office shortly to prepare my presentation for the conference. I shouldn’t really have taken the time out to come here as I’ve got so much to do, but I wanted to see the manuscript,’ said Cara.
And I had to see you again.
A stray lock of rich, auburn hair escaped her barrette and obscured one eye as she spoke. She moved to brush it aside, but George got there first; his fingers tucked the hair behind her ear. The gesture was assured: as if he’d done it a thousand times before.
She paused and smiled up at him. ‘I’m glad I did come though,’ she said, a note of shyness in her voice. Cara looked away, desperately searching for something to say to alleviate the tension.
Before she could come up with anything, George moved towards her; his hand caressed her cheek, he lowered his head and then his lips brushed hers. He gently pulled her into his arms as the kiss grew more urgent, and their bodies moulded into one. The sandalwood notes of his aftershave washed over her again, and she was consumed by desire.
They stood locked together, gently swaying. For the first time, Cara understood what people meant by the expression, ‘Made for one another.’
And then just as suddenly as they’d been drawn together, she snapped out of the trance, extracted herself from his arms and drew away.
‘Sorry, this was a terrible mistake. I must go.’ She turned and stumbled slightly as she dashed across the room, bolting for the door.
‘Cara, wait,’ said George, his voice low.
‘No, I can’t. I must go. I shouldn’t have come. I’m sorry for the misunderstanding. This is all wrong. I’m engaged. You’re married. This is too complicated. We can’t do this.’
George thumped his hand down on the counter as he heard the shiny black door swing closed, and she disappeared from his life. Again.
Is that it?
He’d never felt so desolate. There was a throbbing ache in his chest. He leaned against the wall in an effort to steady himself and catch his breath.
What the hell was going on?
Seville, present day
The following afternoon Cara’s flight touched down in Seville. She waited to deplane and sent a quick text to Daniel to let him know she’d landed. He worried about her; in some ways, he treated her like one of his children. She was hoping the text would buy her some time without needing to speak to him. Cara had been in a state of turmoil since she’d kissed George the previous day. She felt guilty and confused. Some time away on her own seemed like a perfect opportunity to clear her head and think things through. She exhaled deeply and made a conscious effort to relax; without success.
Seville was a stunning, vibrant city and ordinarily she’d be bubbling with excitement. Now she was conflicted. She couldn’t stop thinking about George, and a sense of foreboding gripped the pit of her stomach. Every time his face popped into her mind, she couldn’t think clearly.
Cara flagged a taxi, and the car sped through the busy streets towards her hotel on the edge of the old town. As the receptionist checked her in, she heard the familiar ping of a text. It wasprobably Daniel. She went up in the elevator to find her room. It was bright and spacious with vibrant coloured rugs strewn across the varnished wooden floor. The last rays of afternoon sunshine bathed the room in a soft glow, and she caught a glimpse of the Cathedral’s spire from the balcony. She would wander over there once she’d unpacked her case and had a much-needed cup of tea.
Cara flopped onto the king-size bed and enjoyed the brief respite. She hadn’t slept well in ages, but last night she’d found it impossible. Even when she slept, she wasn’t fully relaxed and kept waking up. Her thoughts flitted from George to Daniel and back again, leaving her drained. She’d finally managed to drift off into a deep sleep but awoke feeling anxious again, just after seven o’clock. The phone rang. She eased her weary frame off the bed and scrabbled about in her bag.
It was George. She stared at his name on the screen, but couldn’t rally her spirits to answer. She didn’t know what to say after the kiss and run of the previous day. The phone continued to ring. It was loud and seemed to go on forever.
