her further.
The second show was an improvement on the first. She allowed herself to relax a little now that Zack’s ominous presence was no longer in the room, and knew that the audience appreciated her performance.
But by twelve o’clock, when she had finally cleaned away in her dressing-room, she felt exhausted, just wanted to fall into bed and go to sleep. But she knew she wasn’t going to, going over and over in her mind that last meeting with the triumphant Nicholas Buchanan.
Thinking about it wasn’t going to change anything, she knew that, and yet the images wouldn’t be banished. Zack had invited her down to his family home for the weekend, something he had done plenty of times before. His parents seemed to accept that she had been sharing an apartment with him in London for the last three months, his gentle mother always warm and friendly, his father not openly disclaiming the affair but making it clear he thought his only child could do better than a young singer in a nightclub.
On the Saturday evening she and Zack had gone to the local country club for dinner, and as they had walked outside in the moonlit garden after their meal Zack had asked her to marry him. Her stunned surprise must have shown on her face.
‘Darling, it can’t be such a shock,’ he had laughed indulgently; he had laughed a lot since they had been together, no longer the remote man she had first met. ‘It must be obvious from the way I can’t keep my hands off you, that I have to keep touching you, that I’m in love with you.’
She had blushed at the mention of the amount of time they spent in bed together, Zack liking to touch her and caress her even when they weren’t making love. Physically they had been perfect from the first, and that part of the relationship only got better. In fact, the whole relationship was absolute bliss for Cynara, the fact that Zack was still technically married to Joanne meaning there had been no pressure on her for a more permanent relationship.
But in a matter of seconds Zack had changed all that, and she could feel the panic rising up inside her. ‘We’re happy as we are, Zack,’ she dismissed lightly. ‘Let’s not spoil it.’
‘Spoil it?’ the laughter slowly left his face. ‘How could being married spoil anything?’
‘You told me you didn’t want another permanent relationship,’ she had reminded him, the smile on her lips not concealing the strain in her eyes.
‘Cynara, I love you,’ he had said impatiently. ‘I believed you loved me.’
‘I do—–’
‘Then where’s the problem?’ he had frowned. ‘People that love each other usually get married.’
‘I—I just don’t want to—to upset things between us,’ she had been very pale in the moonlight. ‘You loved Joanne once, and look what happened to that marriage,’ she had added desperately.
‘I still love Joanne,’ he had told her softly. ‘But I don’t know that I was ever in love with her. We met when we were both at university, married because we thought we were in love and Joanne’s parents were urging her to return to Australia. By the time the first heady excitement of what we had done had died down Michael was on the way. We were lovers who, as the years passed, became friends who loved each other. When someone else came along for her about a year ago I didn’t stand in her way of happiness. She’s a wonderful woman, she deserves to be happy. But I think I deserve happiness too,’ he had told her frowningly. ‘Meeting you and falling in love with you was the last thing I had in mind when I walked on to that ship almost four months ago. But I did meet you, and I love you more than life itself. I can’t imagine ever being without you now.’
She had felt the same way, but she had known she couldn’t marry him. And if she were to make him understand that without revealing the true reason then she was going to have to hurt him. ‘Marriage is too confining, Zack,’ she had dismissed brightly. ‘I have to be free, free to do what I want.’
‘And what do you want?’ he had rasped. ‘I thought you wanted me!’
‘I do,’ she had drawled throatily. ‘But I also want a career, to travel where that career takes me.’
‘You can still have those things married to me,’ he had protested.
‘Zack Buchanan’s wife a singer?’ she had mocked. ‘I don’t think so, Zack. What would your friends, your family, have to say about that?’
‘I don’t give a damn what anyone has to say.’ He had scowled. ‘I want you for my wife.’
‘You say that now,’ she had grimaced. ‘But what about in a few years time when you do care what those friends and family have to say? What then, Zack?’
‘It won’t happen,’ he had dismissed impatiently. ‘Besides, I doubt you will want to continue with your career for ever.’
‘Why won’t I?’ she had prompted.
‘Well—I—You can’t sing for the rest of your life,’ he had protested frowningly.
‘Why can’t I?’ she had persisted softly.
He had given an impatient sigh. ‘Surely one day you will just want to take things easy, settle down?’
‘No.’ She had shaken her head firmly. ‘That’s exactly what I don’t want.’
‘You want us to just continue with this living together arrangement?’
‘Yes!’
‘And if I want more than that?’
She had swallowed hard. ‘I can’t give you more than that.’
His mouth had thinned angrily. ‘Maybe you just need time to think this over,’ he had bit out. ‘After all, I’m still married to Joanne; we haven’t even discussed marriage before. You probably haven’t given it a thought.’
He had been wrong, she had thought about it, and had dismissed it, as she always must.
They had driven back to his parents’ house in silence, and for the first time Cynara had been relieved that they had been given separate bedrooms, not have felt able to be near Zack that night without sobbing out the truth to him. They had parted at her bedroom door, and from the tight-lipped disappointment on Zack’s face she had known there would be no late night trip to her bedroom tonight as there had been in the past when they stayed with his parents, that Zack had been too hurt to want her tonight.
She had been right, sleeping badly as she knew things were over between the two of them. He wouldn’t settle for less than marriage now, and she would never marry him.
‘My son has gone out riding,’ Nicholas Buchanan had informed her when she had joined him at the breakfast table. ‘He seemed a little—distraught.’
‘Really?’ She had sipped her reviving coffee, wishing Alice Buchanan were there to counteract the harsh disapproval Nicholas Buchanan had never hesitated in showing her whenever they were alone. But Alice always breakfasted in her bedroom, and so Cynara knew she would get no help from that direction.
‘Have the two of you argued?’ Nicholas had probed mercilessly.
Not
