Innocent on Her Wedding Night (22 page)

‘Might be the bloke in number eleven,’ Denise offered helpfully. ‘He looked as if he could have the hots for you.’

In spite of her inner turmoil, Laine shuddered. ‘Thanks.’

‘And any fraternisation with clients is strictly against the rules.’ Mrs Moss added her sharp two-pennorth.

‘I’m relieved to hear it,’ Laine said grimly, and went home with the note burning a hole in her bag and not the least idea how to deal with it.

She spent the next hour pacing around, confusion and panic fighting a war inside her. Asking herself what harm it could do to see him again—just once. Then remembering that ‘just once’ was a taboo phrase in her vocabulary. Knowing that she should tear up the note and burn its fragments. Telling herself it was futile and damaging to speculate why he’d asked to see her again.

And that she was not under any circumstances obliged to go to this meeting.

Told herself again as she pressed the yellow dress, wondering if it would be third time lucky, and found the dark green jacket that topped it.

Even when she was actually walking in through the bistro’s glass door, she was still silently repeating the same valuable advice. Reminding herself it was not too late to turn back and walk away.

And then a waiter was advancing, asking her name, offering to take her jacket and requesting her to follow him to the booth in the corner.

‘Miss Sinclair is here, sir,’ He reported, and faded away as Laine saw with total incredulity exactly who was waiting to greet her.

‘Hello, sweet thing,’ said Andy. He looked bronzed and fit, showing his teeth in the warm, honest smile she remembered only too well. He added airily, ‘Good to see you again.’

Shock mixed with an agony of disappointment had turned her legs to jelly, so it was either sit down or fall down, and she opted to subside onto the high-backed bench on the opposite side of the table.

‘You,’ she said blankly, then, on a rising note of anger. ‘You? I don’t believe it.’

‘I thought this might be a bit tricky,’ he said. ‘That’s why I didn’t sign the invitation.’ There was a bottle of red wine on the table, and two glasses. He filled the empty one and pushed it towards her. ‘Have a drink. You look as if you need it.’

She ignored it. ‘What the hell do you want?’

‘You don’t seem too pleased to see me,’ he remarked. ‘Not really what I was led to expect, but there you go.’

‘Pleased?’ Laine stared at him as if he’d grown two heads. ‘When you took my money and abandoned me to that—subhuman scumbag.’ She took a deep uneven breath.

‘I could have been raped and—dumped. Did you ever think of that?’

He shrugged. ‘You know the old saying—girl with skirt up runs faster than man with trousers down. My money was on you, Laine.’

‘Our money,’ she said. ‘I think you’ll find.’

‘Talking of which.’ He reached inside his jacket and handed her a folded piece of paper.

She took it unwillingly. ‘What is this?’

‘It’s a bank draft,’ He said. ‘For your share of the boat. I didn’t think you’d trust my personal cheque.’

She stared down at the printed figures. ‘My God,’ she said shakily.

‘So,’ He said. ‘We’re square.’ He leaned forward, lowering his voice. ‘Laine, I didn’t mean to leave you stranded. I swear it. But I was in a spot of bother, and really needed to be elsewhere fast.’

‘How strange,’ she said. ‘I had a similar experience around the same time.’ She tucked the draft in her bag. ‘And elsewhere seems to be renewing its appeal right now, so I’ll wish you good evening.’

‘Laine.’ His voice was husky with appeal. ‘Don’t go. You have every right to be furious, but I’m trying to make amends here. I’m back on my feet now, and looking for something new to invest in—especially if I can find a partner. After all, we made a damned good team before, and this time we might do even better.’ The blue eyes looked into hers directly. Winningly. ‘Get—closer, maybe? End up as real partners, just as I always wanted. So, how about it? What do you say?’

‘Nothing,’ she said, ‘that I’d care to speak out loud in a respectable restaurant.’ She shook her head. ‘Andy, I was a fool to trust you, I don’t think I ever liked you, and I wouldn’t have you served up with truffles. That’s the polite version, and I hope it’s clear enough.’

‘Oh, yeah.’ The charm gave way to a sneer. ‘But I had to ask, so I did. It was part of the deal. And now that you’ve turned me down, do me one last favour? Tell your boyfriend to get his heavies off my back.’

‘Boyfriend?’ Laine repeated slowly. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘Your publishing tycoon and his band of private detectives.’ His face was scowling, his tone sullen. ‘Do you really think I’d have repaid you a cent if they hadn’t tracked me down and leant on me? Asking bloody questions, looking into past deals, threatening me with the FBI and worse.’ He gave a short, angry laugh. ‘Best of all, he actually claimed you fancied me, and that you might be prepared to forgive and forget if approached in the right spirit. Boy, did the bastard get that wrong.’

He gave her an insolent look. ‘Pity, really. I was quite flattered at the idea you’d been secretly pining for my body all along. Wouldn’t have minded at all taking you back to my hotel and teaching you a thing or two in bed—even if you have become a bit skinny for my personal taste.’

His eyes narrowed. ‘And even though I strongly suspect you’re not nearly as naïve as you were. Your millionaire pal get there first, did he?’ He grinned unpleasantly. ‘Poor little Laine. You can’t have made much of an impression if he was so eager to hand you on.

‘Now I’ll be on my way. Look for more appealing company myself.’ He got to his feet. ‘But don’t leave on my account. Celebrate your windfall, finish the wine.’ He paused. ‘And, as you’re the trash with the cash, I’m sticking you with the bill. Hope you don’t mind. Have a great evening.’

She didn’t even watch him leave. She leaned back against the wooden panels behind her and closed her eyes, her mind whirling as she tried to absorb what he’d said. Your publishing tycoon.

Daniel had done this—for her. Traced Andy, the man he thought she loved, and made him compensate her. Even suggested a reunion might be possible because she’d told him so. And he’d actually believed her. Believed that ridiculous story.

He’d gone to all that trouble, she thought. But why?

Because maybe it might make him feel less guilty about sleeping with her and betraying Belinda? About having his own life to go to when she would be alone?

Or because he still felt a sense of obligation to the burden that Simon had bequeathed to him?

I wanted to set him free, she thought. And I’ve failed even in that.

She signalled to the waiter, paid the bill and walked out to the bar area while she waited for her jacket. And felt a hand touch her arm.

‘Laine?’ someone said. ‘Laine, we saw you come in and your—friend leave. Are you all right?’

She turned, found herself looking at Belinda’s concerned, pretty face and wanted to die.

Oh, God, she thought. Daniel must be here watching, making sure the reconciliation is complete and that the course of true love runs smooth this time. Which would be almost funny if it wasn’t so nauseating.

She pulled herself together. ‘Everything’s fine. He’s someone I used to know, and we—we simply discovered we had nothing in common any more.’

‘Poor you.’ Belinda’s sympathy was genuine. ‘But don’t just push off, please. My husband’s over there, and we’d love you to join us.’

The hand on Laine’s arm was wearing a ring—a plain circle of gold.

So it has happened, Laine thought, and somehow I missed it.

‘No,’ she said. ‘Really, I couldn’t.’

‘But why not?’ Belinda coaxed. ‘After all, you know each other. You’re not strangers.’

And that’s why, Laine wanted to shriek at her. That’s why I can’t do the polite social thing. Why I can’t sit with your lover and remember when he was my lover too. Why I can’t laugh and talk, eat and drink, as if it didn’t matter.

‘I have to go,’ she said. The waiter arrived with her jacket, and she took it thankfully. ‘Another time, perhaps?’

‘At least stop and say hello,’ Belinda urged.

Her stomach was churning, but she forced a smile. ‘Well, just for a moment.’

She followed Belinda across the room to another booth, screened by a large pot plant on a stand—which explained why she hadn’t noticed their presence earlier.

And, of course, the shock of her confrontation with Andy.

And soon—soon—this living nightmare would be over, and she could go home.

The plant’s leaves brushed her jacket as she walked past it, bracing herself as she prepared to meet Belinda’s husband, who was rising courteously but warily to greet her. And saw a stocky man with brown hair, and a face that was pleasant rather than handsome. A man she’d last seen two and a half years ago, at her wedding reception flirting with Celia.

And she thought, My God, it’s Daniel’s best man.

Aloud, she said uncertainly, ‘Guy—Guy Lawson? You’re Belinda’s husband?’ She shook her hand. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘What’s to understand?’ His blue eyes were cold.

Her mouth was dry. ‘I thought she was married to Daniel.’

They both stared at her. ‘But you couldn’t,’ Belinda said at last. ‘Not possibly.’

‘You were there at the flat. You’d spent the night.’ Laine clapped her hands to her mouth, looking at Guy in horror. ‘Oh, God, I—I mean—’

‘Listen,’ said Belinda. ‘Dan found me limping along in the rain, because I’d broken the heel on my shoe, raving with temper because I’d just had a flaming row with Guy over dinner and walked out on him, leaving my bag on the table in the restaurant—ergo, no keys and no money.’

She spread her hands. ‘So—he rescued me, which is one of the things he’s so great at. Dragged me into his cab and, when I refused point-blank to go home, took me back to his place, where he sat me down and gave me a good talking-to.

Explained how easy it was to let love slip away and spend the rest of your life with regret.

‘Then he lent me his bed for the rest of the night, while he slept on the sofa.

In the meantime, of course, while I was in the bathroom, he quietly phoned Guy, advised him to let me simmer down and pick me up in the morning. Which is exactly what happened.’

She made another helpless gesture. ‘But surely you knew this? Did you never ask Dan what was going on—why I was there?’

‘Of course not,’ Guy said scornfully. ‘When has she ever given a damn about what’s happening in his life? I was one of the poor devils who had to try and put him together again when she dumped him on their honeymoon. And even after that he’s still been there for her.’ He shook his head. ‘Unbelievable.’

‘Guy,’ Belinda said in reproach.

‘It’s time someone told her.’ He looked back at Laine, his face implacable. ‘You didn’t want him, so why didn’t you let him off the hook? Go away and stay away.

But, no, you had to come back, and now you’re driving him out instead.’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘He’s relocating to the States. Selling that damned barn of a house he’s been slaving over—everything—and moving out. Yes, America’s always been the main base for the company, but his home has always been—here. England’s the place he’s always returned to. And now that’s all going to change permanently. We’re losing him.’

‘And you blame me for this?’ Laine, reeling from the hammer-blows of his words, squared her shoulders, facing him bitterly. ‘Because I needed more from our marriage than Dan could give me? Because I wanted to be loved as a woman, not as another rescue case—like some stray kitten saved from drowning, who just needs a good home to make her happy? Is that—really—so terrible?’

‘Loved?’ Guy almost spat the word. ‘Good God, woman, he was crazy about you—head over heels in love with you. What more did you want?’

She shook her head. ‘No, it wasn’t like that. You don’t understand. You don’t know.’ She stopped, realising she was on the verge of saying the unsayable, betraying her deepest secret. Suddenly she couldn’t think straight. Didn’t know what she was doing any more, because Dan was leaving. Dan was going away for ever.

Her throat closed with the pain of it. She muttered, ‘I’m ruining your evening.

I’d better go.’ She tried to smile at Belinda. ‘I hope everything turns out wonderfully for you.’

‘Laine.’ Belinda came after her into the street, her face pale and anxious.

‘Please don’t leave like this. I’m so sorry. Guy didn’t mean to upset you, but he thinks the world of Daniel—we all do. And he was shocked when he found out from me that you were living together. Up to then I knew nothing about Dan having been married, or how it had turned out. It was just—never mentioned.’

No, Laine thought sadly, as she turned away after a hug and a word of reassurance. Never mentioned—like so many things. And now it’s too late. So very much too late. And somehow I must learn to live with that.

She felt bone-weary as she emerged from the lift and crossed to her flat. She fitted the key into the lock and tried to turn it, but nothing happened. For some reason, her door was unlocked already.

Oh, God, she groaned inwardly, now I’ve been burgled. The perfect end to an already bloody evening.

She opened the door cautiously and peeped in, then stopped, aware that her jaw was dropping. Because the intruder was still there, on the sofa, his jacket and tie discarded, his shirt unbuttoned. There was an open bottle of Scotch on the table in front of him, and a half-filled glass in one hand.

‘Daniel.’ She almost whispered his name, as if saying it aloud would make him somehow disappear. She came fully into the room and closed the door behind her.

‘What are you doing here?’

He said slowly, staring at the whisky in his glass, ‘I needed a place where I could think undisturbed. This suggested itself.’

‘But how did you get in?’ She took off her jacket. Laid it across the back of a chair. ‘Your removal men gave back the key.’

‘Jamie’s key,’ he said. ‘I still had my own.’

She looked at the bottle, and then at him. ‘You came here to drink?’