Dark Days: The Long Road Home ✪ free preview

Chapter 1.2

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"I understand, Don, but I need those papers," Christopher tried to keep the frustration out of his voice as he paced in front of the window, his fist tightening on the hand held phone.

Glaring down at the busy street below, Christopher took a deep breath as Don made his excuses. Again.

That was when he saw her. At least he thought it was her.

"Christopher?"

It was her, he was sure of it.

"Christopher? You still there?"

He would recognize the sexy sway of those hips and the feline, graceful way that she moved anywhere.

“I’m sorry, I’ll have to call you back,” Christopher snapped, hoping he hadn’t just blown the Johnston account as he slammed down the phone.

The woman crossed the street with a confident, determined stride, a large black bag slapping at her hip. Her sleek, dark hair was shorter than he remembered, cropped close to her neck. She was dressed casually in slim fitting jeans and a black sweater that hugged her curves.

From the recesses of his memory, unbidden, came her scent, seeming to fill the room. It had driven him crazy when he was a horny young teenager, and he was determined to have her. But it wasn’t until his final year of high school that they finally came together, despite the fact he’d relentlessly tried every trick he knew to get closer to her.

By then he'd sown his wild oats, and was ready to try a real relationship. She'd been his first love, and the only girl to break his heart, though admittedly it was his own doing. He couldn’t help but wonder what his life might be now if he hadn’t messed up so badly.

Wondering what she was doing in the city, Christopher's eyes were still following her as she approached the entrance to his building. He continued to stand there long after she'd moved out of sight, surprised at the profound effect she still had on him after all these years and the strength of the memories she invoked.

It had been fourteen years since he'd come to the city to study law, confident their relationship could withstand the distance while Gemma finished her final year of school. And around five years since he'd last seen her.

Christopher's jaw tightened as he journeyed down memory lane. He'd been young and stupid. He thought he could have it all. He hadn’t expected her to come to the city to surprise him, or that his dimwitted roommate would let her in so that she could find him in a compromising position with ... he drew a blank. He couldn’t even remember the name of the girl he’d been copping a feel from.

It was because of Gemma he'd accepted the invitation to represent his family at the school's anniversary dinner five years ago. The opportunity had been too much to resist: no other woman had affected him the way she had. He'd been beginning to wonder if she was the reason he'd never been able to settle into anything more serious than a few dates while his law friends were moving on, getting married and having children.

It shouldn’t have come as a shock to see that she was with someone else, but it did; some animal instinct inside him had marked her as his, and he'd immediately bristled. It cut deeper than he thought it would when she turned cool, dismissive eyes on him, linking arms with a tall, brown haired man he'd never seen before.

It was probably lucky for Gemma that she'd caught him in the act, Christopher thought bitterly. He knew how much she wanted to have children, something that could never happen with him.

A few months after the dinner he'd finally met someone, someone he thought he could spend the rest of his life with. Though their love was never as deep as what he’d felt for Gemma, he tried telling himself that it was normal to compare everyone to the remembered passions of youth.

He had wanted what everyone else had – someone to come home to at night, and children to carry on the family name.

They tried for over a year, and when Melinda didn’t get pregnant, she blamed him when she found out he’d had chicken pox as a teenager, something his doctor had warned him was a possibility. The marriage quickly went downhill from there.

To say he was crushed would be an understatement, but over time he’d come to accept the fact he would never be a father; instead he invested time in forging a strong bond with his young niece and nephew, like his own uncle had done with him. He took pride in being a good male role model, his role growing more vital when his sister’s husband was killed in a car accident. He tried to get back home as often as he could, and he would be lying to himself if he denied that he hoped to run into Gemma.

“Mr. Daley, your two o’clock appointment is here,” Anne's brisk, no nonsense voice came through the intercom, interrupting his reverie.

Christopher pulled himself away from the window, wondering what had brought her to the city. He assumed she had some sort of law issue. His grandfather had built this firm from the ground up, and people back home were loyal to the Daley’s.

He glanced down at his diary, Gemma’s image still fresh in his mind. It was a new client about a custody issue. He pressed the button to the intercom.

“Anne, please tell Mrs. Smith I’m running behind schedule and I’ll see her as soon as I can,” he said, grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair.

He knew it was impulsive, but he wanted to see her. Opening his office door, he strode purposefully down the corridor towards the elevator, wondering who she was here to see. Most of the partners were still out to lunch, doing their Friday catch-up. A tradition his grandfather had started long ago, with most clearing their schedules for the rest of the day, anticipating a lazy afternoon of drinking.

Christopher had begged off. The next day his cycling club was doing a hundred mile challenge and he needed to be at his best.

“Christopher?”

He would know that throaty voice anywhere.

He turned towards the waiting area, his breath catching in his throat. She'd hardly aged a day, and if anything, had only grown more beautiful if that was possible. He stepped towards her, his gaze quickly sweeping down to take in her lithe figure. The new hairstyle suited her, feathering a delicate, heart shaped face, though he knew from experience she was anything but delicate. Appearances could be deceiving.

Aware that he was staring, he tore his eyes away from soft, full lips, surprised all over again by the intensity of the deep green of her eyes when he met her gaze.

“Gemma? It really is you,” Christopher ignored the ping of the elevator as it reached his floor, noticing the guarded look in her eyes as she moved towards him. Her long, delicate fingers were twisting together, a sure sign that despite her calm appearance she was anything but.

Then it clicked when he realized she was the only person in the waiting room. “You’re Mrs. Smith?”

Gemma looked a little sheepish as he grabbed the crook of her arm, guiding her towards his office.

“It’s good to see you,” Christopher said, getting lost in her smell, surprised by the unmistakable rush of desire that swept through him. Then he remembered why she was here; a custody issue. His jaw tightened as it sunk in.