style="font-size:15px;"> ‘Coming,’ Sarah called back after one last nervous glance in her dressing-table mirror.
She did look good: the red and white sun-dress clung to her shapely but slender body, and her choice of hairstyle—she’d put it up—showed off her new diamond earrings.
It wasn’t Sarah’s sexy appearance that had the butterflies gathering in her stomach. It was this silly charade with Derek. Nick was going to spot something strange about their relationship, she felt sure of it!
But it was too late now. Derek was on his way, having texted her a while back to say the taxi he’d ordered had just arrived and he should be at her place by twelve.
Sarah pulled her scarlet-glossed mouth back into what she hoped passed for a happy smile and hurried across the room, movement setting her earrings swinging. When she wrenched open the door, Nick glanced up from where he was leaning with his back against the gallery railing. He still looked tired, she thought, but very handsome in fawn chinos and a brown and cream striped short-sleeved shirt.
‘I’m ready,’ she said breezily.
Nick’s dark eyes swept over her from head to toe, his top lip curling slightly, as it did sometimes. ‘Yes, but ready for what?’
His sarcasm rankled, as always.
Sarah planted her hands on her hips, just above where her skirt flared out saucily. ‘It wouldn’t hurt you to say something nice to me for a change.’
His eyebrows lifted, as though she’d surprised him with her stance. ‘That’s a matter of opinion. But if you insist…’ His eyes travelled over her again, this time much more slowly.
A huge lump formed in her throat when his gaze lingered on her breasts before lifting to her mouth, then up to her eyes. If she’d been hoping to see desire in his detailed survey, however, she was doomed to disappointment.
‘You look utterly gorgeous today, Sarah,’ he said at last, but in a rather dry fashion. ‘Derek is a very lucky man.’
Sarah was tempted to stamp her foot in frustration when the doorbell rang, saving her from her uncharacteristic temper tantrum.
‘That’ll probably be Derek now,’ she tossed off instead, and bolted for the stairs, eager to answer the door without Nick being too close a witness to their greeting.
It wasn’t Derek at the door, but an attractive, thirty-something brunette wearing a wrap-around electric-blue dress and a smile that would have cut glass.
Sarah knew immediately who it was.
‘Sarah, I presume,’ the woman said archly after a swift once-over that made her ice-blue eyes even icier. ‘I’m Chloe, Nick’s girlfriend.’
Of course you are, Sarah thought tartly. Nick’s girlfriends might look different from one another—this one had a very short, chic hairdo, plus a much curvier body than the others. But underneath their varied physical features always lay a hard-nosed piece with no genuine warmth or niceness.
Sarah despised Chloe on sight.
‘Hi there,’ she managed politely before spinning round to see where Nick was. No way was she going to be caught having to make small talk with the bitch du jour.
Nick was still coming down the stairs, his expression none too happy.
‘Chloe’s here,’ she called out to him.
For a split-second, Sarah could have sworn he had no idea who she was talking about. But then the penny dropped and he hurried to the door, his disgruntled face breaking into a smile.
‘Happy Christmas, darling,’ Chloe gushed as she threw herself into Nick’s arms.
Sarah turned away so that she didn’t have to watch them kiss, her stomach contracting when she heard Chloe whisper something about giving him his main Christmas present later that night.
It was extremely fortunate that Derek chose that moment to arrive, Sarah’s nervous anticipation over their charade was obliterated in the face of her need to have someone by her side on her side.
‘Derek, darling!’ she gushed in much the same way Chloe had. ‘Merry Christmas. Oh, it’s so good to see you.’ She let out a mental sigh of relief when she took in the way he was dressed. She’d been a bit worried he might wear a pink Paisley shirt, or something equally suspect. But no, he looked very attractive and sportily masculine in knee-length cargo shorts and a chest-hugging sky-blue top that complimented his fair colouring and showed off his great body.
‘And you too, babe,’ Derek returned, startling Sarah with his choice of endearment, not to mention his leaning over the rather large present he was holding to kiss her full on the mouth, taking his time.
‘You look incredible,’ he said on straightening. ‘Doesn’t she look incredible, everyone?’
Neither Nick nor Chloe said a word.
Sarah flushed with embarrassment, but Derek was undeterred.
‘I hope this fits, babe,’ he said, then pressed the present into her hands. ‘I saw it in a shop window and I thought straight away that it was you to a T.’
Sarah didn’t know whether to be pleased, or afraid of the contents. Derek had a wicked streak in him that was proving to be as entertaining as it was worrying.
‘I…I’ll open it a bit later,’ she hedged. ‘I have to help Nick greet our guests. Which reminds me. Nick, this is Derek,’ she said by way of a formal introduction. ‘Derek, this is Nick, my guardian.’
‘No kidding,’ Derek said as he shook Nick’s hand. ‘I got the impression you’d be older.’
Sarah tried not to laugh. But it was rather funny, seeing the expression on Nick’s face.
‘And I’m Chloe,’ Chloe said with a sickeningly sweet smile. ‘Nick’s girlfriend.’
It never ceased to amaze Sarah how females like Chloe possessed split personalities—a super-sweet one for dealing with the male sex, a super-sour one, for their own.
‘Why don’t you go open your Christmas pressie in private?’ Chloe suggested to Sarah with pretend saccharin-sweetness. ‘I can help Nick answer the door, can’t I, darling? I mean, all of the guests—other than Derek, of course—are Nick’s friends.’
‘What a good idea!’ Sarah said, jumping at the chance to remove herself from Chloe’s irritating presence. Of all Nick’s girlfriends, she disliked this one the most, the conniving, two-faced cow!
‘No, not down there,’ Derek whispered when she grabbed his elbow and began steering him across the foyer towards the sunken family room. ‘Take me upstairs. To your bedroom.’
‘My bedroom!’ she squawked, grinding to a halt.
‘Ssh. Yes, your bedroom,’ he went on softly. ‘Don’t ask why, just do it. And don’t look back at either of those two. Just giggle, and then skip up those stairs with me.’
‘I never giggle.’ She hated females who giggled.
