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But if that was the case, why hadn’t Duncan and Terri married each other as soon as she was free? Stephen spoke as though the affair was common knowledge but if so it wasn’t considered sufficiently interesting to post on Labyrinth’s bulletin board along with all the other gossip about Duncan’s conquests…
Kalera was so distracted by her rampant speculations that she walked straight past Duncan in the hotel lobby and when he followed to tap her on the shoulder she almost leapt out of her skin.
‘Nervous?’ he asked smoothly as she spun on her trembling legs.
‘Of what?’ To her disgust her instant defensiveness made him chuckle. No wonder she hadn’t noticed him; he was wearing camouflage—a dark grey pin-striped three-piece suit with a pale shirt and subdued tie that made her feel almost frivolous in her navy and white spotted spring dress.
She held her practical navy clutch bag to her fluttering stomach. ‘All I have to do is take notes—nothing I haven’t done hundreds of times before!’
‘If not thousands,’ he agreed blandly, shifting his laptop to his other hand and turning her in the direction of the restaurant. Her eyes flickered as she registered the pearl stud in his left ear, a twin to the discreet tie-pin that adorned his chest. Trust Duncan to find a way to express his individuality even in the midst of choking conformity.
He caught her peeking, his gaze lowering to her own earlobe. ‘We make a good match, don’t we? We were obviously attuned when we got dressed this morning.’
She immediately wanted to snatch the pearls that Harry had given her for their third anniversary out of her ears. ‘It’s hardly a matter of being attuned, since you must know I wear these to work most days of the week—’
‘Must I? Do you think that the average boss notices every tiny feature of his secretary’s appearance, every single day?’ When she flushed he commented slyly, ‘But you evidently think that I do. Does that mean that you notice everything about me?’
‘You’re not an average boss,’ she rapped back, unconsciously increasing her pace as she evaded his question.
He stopped at the restaurant door, barring her way. ‘Thank you; I’m glad you’re willing to admit that we have a special relationship—’
‘I mean…you’re unusually observant and have a photographic memory for visual details.’ She cut him off hastily, and then realised that it was not something that she wanted to dwell on—the fact that he could probably summon up a crease-by-freckle mental picture of her naked body!
‘True, and this morning I observe there are little blue shadows under your eyes.’ He dipped his head, a strand of blue-black hair falling across his brow as he lifted her chin with one finger to examine her more closely.
‘Rough night?’ His tone was sympathetic but his eyes were uncomfortably sharp.
‘Not at all. I slept like a baby,’ she lied haughtily.
‘I didn’t mean in bed,’ he said, to her intense mortification. ‘Steve gave me a filthy look as you guys left last night. He looked to be in a pretty mean temper…’
‘I hope you’re not suggesting he’d be physically abusive.’ She jerked her face away from his disturbing touch, her grey eyes frosting over. ‘Stephen is a gentleman; I know he’d never hurt me! Of course he was angry—what did you expect after the way you carried on? And then for him to see you were there with his wife—’
‘His ex-wife.’
‘That’s what I said—’
‘No, you said his wife. As if they were still irrevocably attached.’
‘Yes, well, I meant his ex-wife.’ She was flustered by her slip of the tongue, determined not to allow him to invest her mistake with any deep Freudian meanings. ‘Anyway, she was still his wife when you, when you—’ Her tongue got tangled up in her reluctance to continue and she moved aside as a group of businessmen brushed past them to push through the glass doors.
God, how had she wandered into this dangerous debate? It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. She had told herself when she knocked back her aspirins in front of the bathroom mirror that she would greet him with a quiet ultimatum that he was to stop meddling in her private life or she would walk.
Now here she was delving into his private life!
‘When I? What?’ He had no right to sound so curious. He knew very well what!
She composed herself and fixed him with a firm stare, her husky voice taut with determination. ‘It doesn’t matter. Look, Duncan, perhaps now isn’t the time to tell you this—’
The set of his shoulders tensed beneath the designer suit, his attention abruptly sliding past her to the interior of the restaurant and back again as he interrupted curtly, ‘You’re right, this isn’t the time—our new clients are waiting—but I want you to know that I was way out of line last night. I should never have embarrassed you like that…’
She was sure she had misheard. ‘I beg your pardon?’
‘I’m sorry,’ he said simply. He spread his hands, palm up, the grave penitent. ‘If you hadn’t turned up this morning it would have served me right. I behaved like an arrogant thug and you have every right to be mad. It was wretched of me, unforgivable…well, n
ot quite, I hope. But I put you in a horrible spot and that was wrong of me.’ He shook his head. ‘Harry would have been disgusted at my performance—he always claimed I was too much of a drama queen—he said that’s why I could never beat him on the golf course…I threw too many of my clubs into the lake!’
As always, the mention of Harry made her feel soft inside and she had practically turned to mush by the time Duncan had finished grovelling his remorse. His cheerful self-abasement cut the ground neatly from under Kalera’s feet, so that she found herself accepting his apology feeling as if she might have been the one who had overreacted!
