Mediterranean Boss, Convenient Mistress. Kathryn Ross
Чтение книги онлайн.
Читать онлайн книгу Mediterranean Boss, Convenient Mistress - Kathryn Ross страница 4
‘What are you doing?’
She looked up and saw Marco was standing next to his own car.
‘You said you wanted me to drive.’
‘I do. But I meant in my car.’
Charlie looked over at the brand-new gleaming red sports car and quickly decided she definitely didn’t want to drive such perfection through the traffic! ‘Do you mind if we take mine?’
Marco glanced sceptically at her old car. ‘Do you think it will get us there?’
‘Well, it gets me to work every morning!’ she said indignantly.
‘Fine.’ He shrugged and moved towards her vehicle.
Marco was so tall that his legs were crushed up against the dashboard when he got in. He released the seat and moved it backwards as she turned the key in the ignition. As usual the car didn’t want to start immediately.
‘It’s OK—it always does this,’ she reassured him hurriedly in case he started to get out.
The engine flared into life at the next turn of the key and at the same time music filled the car and Marco was treated to a rendition of Love and Marriage as crooned by Frank Sinatra.
Hurriedly Charlie rushed to switch it off and in her haste turned the volume up. ‘Sorry!’ she shouted over the sentimental words about how love and marriage went so well together and then switched the CD off. But the music kept on and it was a moment before she realised that it was the radio that was playing.
‘That was Frank Sinatra’s opinion of love and marriage,’ The DJ said cheerfully, ‘but in a short time we will be talking to the eminent Dr Marco Delmari about his new book and why he thinks putting love at the top of your list when you get married could spell disaster.’
‘Sorry, I thought it was my CD that was playing,’ Charlie said uncomfortably as she turned the volume down. Out of the corner of her eye she saw that Marco had found the cover for the CD of love songs and was reading through the track list.
‘And you tried to tell me you weren’t a romantic.’ He looked over at her with wry humour.
‘I’ve also got classical music in the glove compartment and a selection of rock albums.’
Marco smiled. ‘Interesting. I wouldn’t have had you down as a rock chick. Do you have the leathers and the bike too?’
‘But of course,’ she lied with a bat of her dark lashes. ‘I didn’t realise you were analysing me.’
‘Of course I am.’ He laughed. ‘It’s what I do.’ He slanted her a teasing look. ‘And by the way, there is nothing wrong with being a bit of a romantic,’ he added softly.
‘That’s not what it says in your book.’
‘No, what I said in my book was that people get carried away by the idea of romance. That they imagine themselves in love too easily, when in fact they are just in lust, which is absolutely fine for a short-term affair, but for a longer-term commitment you need more stability.’
‘“Love should not be the only reason for marriage.”’ Charlie quoted one of the lines from his book.
‘Ah…So you have read it, then.’
‘Of course I’ve read it.’ She looked over and found that he was still watching her with a light of amusement in his dark eyes. ‘I bought a copy before I started to work for you.’
‘As a precursor to internet dating?’
‘No, as research towards working for you…and actually, just for the record, last night was my first sojourn into the world of internet dating.’
‘Will you continue with it?’
‘If you’d asked me that question when I got home last night I’d probably have said no…. but…’ she paused for thought ‘…I suppose a date like last night’s can happen even when you meet someone under more conventional circumstances.’
‘So you’ll go out again on another date?’
Charlie shrugged. ‘Maybe…’
‘But not with Mr Dreamboat?’
‘Definitely not.’ She smiled at him.
Marco reached across and turned the radio off. ‘So how does this internet dating service work? Do you get to see photos of the people you can date?’
‘Yes, not that it helps much. My dates’s photo must have been at least ten years out of date.’ She glanced over at him teasingly. ‘Why? Are you thinking of trying it yourself?’
‘Not this week,’ he said sardonically and instantly she wished she hadn’t made the joke. Of course, Marco wouldn’t need to look on the internet for a date—unless he was running an experiment for one of his books! But for Charlie, who didn’t go out to socialise a lot—partly because she had to arrange baby-sitters, and partly because she didn’t really like the nightclub or smoky-bars scene—it was a practical solution. ‘It’s just a bit of fun,’ she said with a shrug. But her tone was defensive now.
‘Is it?’
‘Yes, of course.’
‘So you aren’t looking for a serious relationship?’
The gently asked question seemed to echo inside her in a very strange way. She had to admit that recently she had been feeling lonely and when she looked around the world suddenly seemed made up of couples. She missed the intimacy of a relationship…not just the sex but the tenderness and warmth and the feeling that someone was there for her.
Not that her ex-husband had ever really been there for her. They had only been married for twelve months when she had fallen pregnant and, although Greg initially seemed to be pleased, she had soon discovered this wasn’t the case.
At the time they had been living in an apartment and had decided to look around and buy a house…something, as Greg put it, more ‘child-friendly’. They had found what they were looking for pretty quickly, the ideal property; a beautiful old cottage out in the countryside.
Charlie had been ecstatic, full of dreams and plans for the future. But although their offer was accepted she had never got her dream cottage. As soon as their apartment was sold Greg had left her, taking half the money from the sale with him.
The shock had been immense. She had loved Greg and believed that he loved her, and she had never suspected for one moment that he wanted out of the marriage. Left alone and pregnant, she’d known there was no way she could afford to buy the cottage on her own, and the sale had dropped through.
So, no, she couldn’t lie to herself—Greg had never been there for her…and he certainly had never bothered with Jack. That hurt more than anything.
She suddenly remembered how the other day she had seen the man next door taking his son out to play football and how for some reason it had made her eyes prickle with tears. But it had just been PMT, she told herself