Del didn’t know why she turned around. A feeling, perhaps. Gut instinct. A vague idea that throughout the talk she was being watched. In the dim hall it was hard to see, yet something drew her gaze unerringly to a man sitting in the shadows. Did she know him? An overwhelming sense of familiarity caused her to stand and make her way to where he sat.
Someone turned the lights back on and she gasped aloud. ‘Nick?’ So, he’d come to find her. A gush of love left her weak. Did he believe that she wasn’t responsible for the fateful article? Had Celia told him the truth?
Del took him in – the set of his chin, the strength in his face, his thick hair gleaming dark reddish-gold under the dim hall lights. Her eyes lingered on his arm, now out of the cast. This was the man she’d fallen in love with,
