AllFreeNovel
Share Us
‘James—’ Sinkingly, she raked her eyes over his stony profile. Something had made him hopping mad. Boredom with the play? Or teeth-grinding aggravation because he felt he’d been forced into being seen in public with her, wasting a whole evening?
‘We could go home,’ she said. ‘There’s no need to eat out, really there isn’t. You were right, we don’t have to pretend. What happens, or doesn’t happen, in our marriage is our business,’ she assured him breathlessly, forced to trot to keep up with his rangy stride, her clumpy shoes slapping the pavement.
‘We’re here now.’ He made a conscious effort to relax and felt something melt inside him as he smiled down into her troubled face. He didn’t want her to be troubled; he wanted the poor scrap to be happy.
But she wasn’t a poor scrap, was she?
The brisk exercise had painted her cheeks with wild-rose colour, the cold air making her eyes sparkle like golden jewels. And that dull grey suit and the fawn woolly thing she was wearing beneath it didn’t make her any less gorgeous. His eyes had been opened as far as Mattie was concerned and he wanted her.
But would wanting be enough for her?
Somehow, this evening, he was going to try to find out. Try to lay the foundation for a future together that was far different from the one they had embarked on.
His hand slid down to take hers. ‘Let’s eat,’ he said thickly. ‘I’m ravenous.’ Ravenous for her. But would she, could she, feel the same?
If she did it would be the icing on the no-nonsense cake of their marriage. Nothing was more certain than that.
He felt her slim fingers curl around his and something fiercely protective twisted inside him. Whatever happened he wouldn’t rush her into something she didn’t feel was right for her.
They were shown to the table he’d automatically insisted on reserving, a softly lit alcove partially screened from the main body of the classy restaurant by the fronds of sweetly scented jasmine, intertwined with the arching, feathery leaves of a miniature date palm.
A perfect setting for a romantic dinner for two, Mattie thought miserably. Right down to the white camellias floating in a crystal bowl, the flickering candle, the champagne on ice. He must have ordered it when he’d reserved a table. If she drank any she’d get silly. She couldn’t afford to get silly.
Somehow she had to convince him that there was no need for all this. What she’d said to him last night was nonsense; she hadn’t thought it through. Pretending they were a loving couple, sharing a candlelit meal was agony because she so desperately wanted it to be true.
The champagne cork was drawn. Mattie flinched. Glanced at the menu and ordered the first thing her eyes lighted on, and gave him a firm look from behind her lenses when he handed her a flute of the foaming wine and ordered softly, ‘Relax, Mattie.’
‘I’ll try,’ she promised, not at all sure she could fulfil.
They were alone now, both waiters gone, alone with soft lights, the seductive scent of jasmine. Alone with her growing need to reach out and touch him…
She cleared her throat briskly, settled her glasses more firmly on the bridge of her nose, and said with genuine commiseration. ‘You don’t have to put yourself through this kind of charade. I’m sure you must hate it. You were right, I was wrong. We don’t need to pretend.’
‘No pretence. I’m enjoying this.’ The beautifully proportioned fingers of one hand were curled around the slender stem of his wineglass, the immaculately cut jacket of his dark suit emphasising the breadth of his shoulders, the grey eyes smoky, the carved line of his mouth made smoulderingly sensual, courtesy of the subdued lighting, she supposed. And he was only saying that for her sake. What had she said the night before?
Absently, she took a gulp of champagne, and remembered. She’d told him she didn’t want to be sneered at because she was married to a man who didn’t fancy her at all.
That was why he was pretending to enjoy himself now. For her sake! Her heart lurched and twisted. The effort he was making only made her love him more. How deeply could you love a man who didn’t love you back and still retain your sanity?
‘And I want you to enjoy it, too.’ He leaned forward slightly. ‘Enjoy the experience of being out on the town with your husband.’
But he wasn’t, not truly her husband. But she wanted him to be. Her throat went dry. Why was he looking at her as if she were the only woman in the world for him when nothing could be further from the truth?
She said, her voice sounding strangled, ‘It’s not really my scene. I feel out of place.’
‘Shh—’ He laid a finger over the soft, rose-petal pink of her mouth to silence her, dragged in a charged breath as he felt the silky smoothness, the quivering softness of her lips beneath his touch, and told himself harshly to cool it. There was no rush. None at all. That was what his brain said. His body had other ideas.
His body had to learn to wait.
‘You can fit into any scene you want to be in.’ He replaced his hand on the stem of his wineglass, holding her lovely eyes with his. ‘And there’s no need for either of us to lay down hard and fast rules. Let’s look on our relationship as a voyage of discovery, relax, see where it takes us.’
It was as far as he could go towards sowing the seed of future intimacy in her mind. As far as he dared go at the moment. With Mattie he would have to tread carefully; she hadn’t the worldly-wise sophistication to be anything other than scared witless if he told her he had changed his mind, that he wanted sex in their marriage on top of everything else.
He saw the quickening of the pulse that beat at the base of her throat, saw the question that leapt in the translucent gold of her eyes, wondered how best to answer if she gave it voice and inwardly cursed as their first course arrived, breaking the moment.
And could have beat both fists on the table, scattering dishes to kingdom come when a drift of heavy perfume, the spike of a cut-glass accent invaded their space.
‘Darling—I caught a glimpse of you at the theatre and guessed you’d come on here. It’s
