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CHAPTER SIX
DAMIEN took her to his apartment.
It overlooked the ocean at Collaroy, not far from Narrabeen, yet the moment Natalie stepped into Damien’s living-room she was in a different world from the one she had once inhabited.
Warm, welcoming, earthy and sensual were the words that sprang to mind. The carpet was the colour of candied honey. Big squashy sofas were upholstered in a fabric that combined green and orange with leopard and zebra prints. The parquet top of a large square coffee-table fascinated with its unique design. A smaller mobile table supported a television set.
Set into a recess was a cabinet for stereo equipment. A rack displaying a range of compact discs rose above it. Bookshelves holding an extensive private library stood beside a nook accommodating a well-stocked bar. Oak and brass dominated. Wooden stools were softened by tan leather seats.
In front of the floor to ceiling windows overlooking the sea views was an informal eating area: a round cane and glass table with four tub chairs softly cushioned in the same fabric as the sofas. The adjacent kitchen featured oak cupboards, polished granite bench-tops, and a luxuriant potted fern spilling its long fronds over the divider from the dining setting.
Natalie was intrigued by what was revealed of Damien. He enjoyed comfort, liked a touch of the exotic, and was used to pleasing himself. He was methodical, tidy, had a place for everything, and everything in its place, yet that did not detract from the welcoming atmosphere. This was very much a home, a highly individual one, and Natalie felt a sense of privilege at being invited into it.
‘Have I been here before?’ she asked.
‘No. This is the first time,’ he said softly, as though it was a momentous occasion for him, the end to years of waiting and wanting.
Natalie’s heart contracted at all she had put him through, however unwittingly. She swung around to face him. He had set her bags down near a hallway and was observing her reaction. She smiled her pleasure at being in such a user-friendly place.
‘Was it because I always refused any invitation? Was I being remiss?’
He shook his head. ‘You were never invited.’
So bringing her into his home was a decisive step for him, laying himself open to her as he had never done before. He didn’t look vulnerable in her opinion. There was an air of lonely pride about him as he waited to see how receptive she was to the situation. It was as though he was saying to her, This is the man I am. I want you to stay but the choice is yours.
‘I’m happy to be here,’ she assured him, ‘and your sofas look very inviting.’ She gave a rueful sigh. ‘I’m afraid I’m about ready to wilt.’
He visibly relaxed and gestured her forward. ‘Make yourself at home. Have you had anything to eat?’
‘No. I didn’t think of it.’
‘I’ll get you something in a moment.’
While he took her bags to another room, Natalie slipped off her shoes and gratefully sank into the deeply cushioned corner of one of the sofas. She lifted her legs up and settled herself comfortably. Her body ached. She was exhausted. Too much in one day, she thought, although she did not regret any of the steps she had taken.
Damien returned, divested of most of his business suit. His shirt collar was opened, his sleeves rolled up. Clearly he intended relaxing with her. He gave her a smile of approval as he passed by, leaving her to rest quietly while he went to the kitchen and set about making coffee and sandwiches.
Natalie watched him, marvelling that she had some special appeal to him. Many women must have crossed his path over the years, and he was far too attractive not to have been pursued by some. It seemed unreasonable to her that he should have reached his mid-thirties without forming a serious attachment to anyone else. Yet she looked around her and saw entrenched self-sufficiency. There was not one sign of female companionship present.
He brought her a plate of ham and cheese and lettuce sandwiches. Natalie found she was hungry and ate with appetite. Damien settled into the sofa opposite her, content to sip his coffee and wait until she was ready for conversation.
‘All the time I was married...you couldn’t have remained celibate, Damien.’ She was curious to know more about him.
‘I tried to get you out of my mind,’ he said drily. ‘I wasn’t notably successful at it.’ There was a hungry look in his eyes, softened by the prospect of the intimate togetherness her presence in his apartment promised.
‘What about before that?’ Natalie asked.
‘I was married.’
It surprised her. She felt uncomfortable with the idea of Damien’s having a wife, a woman he must have loved and lost. She sternly reminded herself that she had lost a husband. Had Damien’s wife died, too?
‘What happened?’ she asked.
He shrugged. His expression changed to a world-weary cynicism. ‘I suppose you could say everything or nothing. We ended up wanting different things. As it turned out, divorce was the only thing we shared. Or had in common.’
He must have been hurt by it, Natalie reasoned. No one could fail to be hurt by the crumbling of a commitment that was entered into with deep emotional involvement. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said with sincerity and sympathy.
He shrugged, as though that segment of his life no longer had any relevance to him.
