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‘All right, thank you.’ She couldn’t keep the lilt of anticipation out of her voice, and then, as the thought occurred to her, she asked quickly, ‘Oh, what shall I wear? Is it a formal type of affair? I’m not used to anything like this.’
‘Not really; people wear everything from full evening dress to jeans and jumpers at the concerts these days, but the party afterwards will be semi-formal.’ And then his voice dropped an octave or two and he stepped forward so that Daisy was forced back against the linen-brushed wall of the landing, and his voice was very smoky when he said, ‘Just be yourself and you’ll look great whatever you wear.’
One of his arms was stretched out, his hand splayed next to her shoulder as he leant over her, and although he wasn’t touching her the warmth and delicious expensive smell of him were making her shiver inside. And he mustn’t guess. Oh, please God, please don’t let him guess the effect he had on her, she prayed silently.
And then his elbow unlocked, bringing him even closer, and she realised she had been waiting, longing, for this moment. He was going to kiss her, like before. She was going to feel his mouth on hers again and know that flood of pleasure she had never experienced in her life until she had stood in his drawing room that first night.
Her eyelids had closed, her mouth half open and her chin tilted as she waited, so it came as a drenching anticlimax when she felt his body briefly brush hers and then heard his voice say, ‘We’ll need to leave just after eight, so I will instruct Isabella to serve dinner early, okay? We’ll just have something light as we’ll be eating at the party later.’
He had merely been reaching over to open her door for her. Daisy didn’t know where to put herself as her eyes shot open but she nodded jerkily, almost falling into the sitting room and shutting the door into the hall behind her without turning round.
She stood for some moments with both hands pressed to her burning cheeks, hot humiliation making her sway in a little semi-circle of mortification, and then the ticking of the clock reminded her she only had a few minutes in which to get ready.
Had he noticed her blatant invitation for him to kiss her? The thought was there but she didn’t
have time to reflect on it as she hurried through to the bedroom and opened the door of the walk-in wardrobe, swiftly scanning its contents.
One of the more outrageous things she had done at the time of the decree absolute—aided and abetted by Stephanie—had been to indulge herself in a new hairstyle and a new wardrobe, and now Daisy blessed her friend’s insistence that she spend money on herself in a way she had never done before in all her life, although she had balked against it at the time.
She had thrown out everything belonging to her life with Ronald, and although her wardrobe had been severely depleted what she did now own was new, on the whole expensive and bang up to date.
She stood for a moment scanning the small array of clothes which seemed lost in the huge, cavernous depths of the wardrobe, but as her eyes alighted on the sleeveless sheer twisted tulle dress with attached dress underneath in coffee silk she nodded slowly. Perfect, just perfect. If it saw her successfully through this evening with Slade and his friends, it would be worth every penny of the exorbitant price she had hesitated about until Stephanie had lost patience with her.
He had invited her out this evening through pity. For the second time in as many minutes she pressed her palms to her hot face. That was it at bottom. Well, she couldn’t do anything about that, nor could she negate what had happened out there on the landing. He must have known she was waiting for him to kiss her? Her stomach churned and she bit hard on her lower lip. Yes, he must have.
But one thing she could do something about was her behaviour and appearance tonight. She was not going to be a Cinderella waif and stray, she was going to be a well-dressed, upbeat, amusing and cool companion, whilst making it perfectly clear her relationship with Slade was one hundred per cent platonic.
She had—Daisy consulted her wristwatch—about fifteen minutes in which to transform herself so she’d better get cracking. For this one night she was going to forget the past, refuse to consider the future and concentrate wholly on the present, and that meant making Slade Eastwood feel she’d done him the favour by allowing him to escort her for the evening!
CHAPTER SIX
‘DAISY. You look wonderful.’
She was halfway down the stairs when Slade’s dark, smoky voice from the hall below almost made her miss a step; she hadn’t noticed him sitting waiting for her to one side of the magnificent staircase.
‘Thank you.’ She recovered almost immediately and even managed a fairly cool smile which was the best bit of acting she’d ever done. Slade looked pretty wonderful himself. The big lean body was clothed in dark charcoal trousers and a blue silk shirt, open at the neck, but it was the way the clothes sat on the male frame that made them so eye-stopping.
But she looked good herself—she did—and she could handle this. She had dressed quickly in the coffee-coloured dress and gold leather sandals with studded ankle straps, teaming the outfit with long gold earrings and a lacy gold bracelet, and then spent some ten minutes on her hair. She had put it up in a high knot on top of her head, securing it with a gold clip, before teasing out masses of silky curls about her face and the nape of her neck to soften the severe look. Until the new hairstyle of a few weeks before she had always worn her hair long, almost to her waist, but her shoulder-length cut meant it was free to curl much more naturally now the weight had been taken off.
Her make-up hadn’t taken long—just a smidgen of brown eyeshadow and mascara and a dusting of silky powder on her face, along with a rich red lipstick—but when she had finished and glanced at the tall, elegant woman staring back at her from the depths of the mirror she had had to blink to make sure it was her. And then a pleased smile had spread over her face.
She looked sophisticated! She really did; she looked sophisticated and chic and positively cosmopolitan, she’d told herself excitedly, and she’d blessed Stephanie and the gorgeous dress again as she’d picked up her matching bucket-style gold bag with studded shoulder strap and made for the stairs.
‘Isabella has fixed us an avocado and Parmesan salad with cold meat,’ Slade said easily as she reached his side. ‘And I thought we’d open a bottle of champagne to toast the evening. What do you say?’ The dark eyes smiled at her.
‘Champagne?’ Daisy stared at him rather doubtfully before she remembered her new image and managed a cultivated smile of acceptance. ‘How lovely.’ She nodded brightly.
In actual fact she rarely drank anything more potent than the odd glass of wine, two being her limit, and if they were going to the party afterwards… But she was going to eat now as well as drink, she comforted herself quickly as Slade took her arm and they walked towards the dining room. And he had said there would be food at the party; she would just have to make sure she ate first and then kept her alcohol intake to the absolute minimum, or she could even have soft drinks? Yes, that was what she would do. And if ever she had needed a drink to fortify her it was right now, and champagne seemed to fit the bill perfectly somehow. It was just a good superior wine after all.
Slade’s champagne was very superior. Even Daisy, with her limited knowledge of the pale-straw-coloured liquid, recognised she was drinking something out of the ordinary. And it was delicious, utterly delicious, she decided after her second glass. In fact she couldn’t remember when she had enjoyed a drink more.
By the time Mario drove them into town for the concert Daisy was relaxed and fully determined to enjoy herself, like an excited child at its own birthday party. It didn’t occur to her that the last eighteen months had taken the sort of toll on her mind and her body that no twenty-four-year-old should have to bear, and she would have dismissed the thought had it occurred. Nevertheless, along with the champagne and the new dress and the prospect of the evening in front of her had come an almost devil-may-care exuberance that spoke volumes to the tall, dark man at her side about Daisy’s stress level.
The concert was wonderful, the elegant domed building in which it was held fascinating, and even more so the other concert-goers—at least for Daisy. The men were dressed in an assortment of clothes from evening dress through to jeans as Slade had said, but most of the women present had dressed up, more than one Gucci and Armani outfit being evident at the party afterwards.
Everyone seemed to know Slade and everyone wanted to speak to him, Daisy noticed, especially the female contingent, although to be fair Slade didn’t appear to be aware of the sometimes quite overt attention he was attracting. Was his indifference genuine? Daisy glanced at him from under her eyelashes as a sleek, beautiful redhead in a strapless black cocktail dress which left nothing to the imagination brushed up against him. The black eyes didn’t even flicker but she was still sceptical.
‘What have I done now?’ Slade’s voice was silky smooth.
