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Not that she'd had much to do with him over the years. She'd run into him occasionally at various social functions, and found that, even from a distance, he could present a disturbing figure. He could look across the room at you without any visible expression on his face, but you would still want to shiver in your boots.
That was why she'd been taken aback at the ball when he'd almost lost his temper with her. It had been so unlike him. She'd also been taken back by his lovely young bride, whose air of virginal innocence seemed at odds with Nathan's man-of-the-world sophistication.
Damian, for one, hadn't been able to take his eyes off her all that night. It had worried Celeste at the time that her brother might pursue the girl, especially when he'd remarked the following day that he'd heard the new Mrs Whitmore wasn't all that happy.
Celeste experienced a sudden awful feeling that she knew why Nathan was on her doorstep.
'Hello, Nathan,' she said crisply. 'To what do I owe this highly unexpected visit?'
He didn’t answer her directly, his darkly puzzled frown as bewildering as his reply. 'So you really weren't home.'
'Pardon?'
'I was speaking to your housekeeper a while back on phone,' he went on agitatedly, 'and she told me no one was there except herself. I didn't believe her.'
Celeste blinked a couple of times. 'Would you mind telling me what you're talking about?'
He shook his head, the action flopping a wayward blond lock over his high forehead. He immediately raked it back with splayed fingers, shocking Celeste when she saw his hand was actually shaking.
'Gemma hasn't been in touch with you?' he asked, only adding to her confusion.
'Why would your wife be in touch with me?'
He stared into her face as though trying to see if she was lying. His steely grey eyes narrowed, and she just stopped herself from shivering. Men like Nathan always frightened her a little. They were so secretive, both with their thoughts and their actions, which they never explained. She hated that.
'If you've nothing else to add, Nathan,' she said curtly, 'it's been a long day, I'm tired and I would like to go inside.'
His hand shot out to enclose her arm. 'You swear to me that Gemma has not contacted you today, either in person or by telephone?'
'Take ... your ... hand ... off ... my ... arm,' she enunciated very slowly and very clearly.
Perhaps Nathan recalled what had happened to that creep who had manhandled her at the ball. Whatever, his hand slipped from her arm and Celeste began to breathe again. Nathan didn't know how close he'd come to a karate chop to the neck.
'Well?' he prompted.
'I already told you. Your wife has not been in touch with me. What in God's name makes you think she would have been? We hardly know each other. In fact, we don't know each other. You're not making any sense.'
'Nothing makes sense now,' he muttered.
When his shoulders sagged, he looked so dejected and wretched that Celeste felt an unexpected sympathy for him. Damn, she hoped Damian had nothing to do with this. It was clear as the nose on her face that Nathan's wife had left him. It was also too much of a coincidence that Damian had received an urgent message from some lady-friend this afternoon and gone racing to her rescue like a knight in shining amour. Only Damian was no white knight. He was the devil incarnate when it came to sweet young things like Gemma Whitmore.
But there was no way she was going to relay any of these suspicions to Nathan. God knows what he might do if she said his wife might be with her brother.
'Am I to assume your wife has left you?' Celeste asked.
His steely grey eyes projected the most peculiar hate her way. 'If she has, I know who to thank for it.'
'My God, you're crazy, do you know that? I had nothing to do with any of this!'
He glared at her, before making a frustrated sound and shaking his head in a disconsolate fashion. 'If that wasn't what she meant, then what did she mean?'
Celeste was getting angry with his totally cryptic remarks. 'Nathan, I'm sorry, but I can't help you with this. It's none of my business.'
It is none of my business, Celeste kept telling herself. I don't want to get mixed up in any of it. Nathan means nothing to me and neither does his wife. Let them sort their own lives out.
So why was it that, when Nathan climbed into his car and drove away, she was left feeling hopelessly agitated? Was it that she suspected Damian had played a role in the break-up?
