course not.’ A lie, she dismayingly discovered, almost suffocating with unreasoning jealousy.
Stupid, she told herself. For three years she’d managed to blot any thought of Devin with another woman out of her mind, tell herself it no longer concerned her.
Which it didn’t.
‘If you’re not lovers,’ he said, ‘what was Craig doing at your place?’
‘He used my sofa. He was a bit…under the weather.’
‘Drunk.’
‘Tipsy.’
‘Like I said.’
Shannon compressed her lips.
Devin swung the car around a corner. ‘And if he hadn’t been…’
Shannon shrugged. She didn’t need to justify herself to him, and objected to being cross-questioned.
Devin persisted. ‘Are you telling me you haven’t let him into your bed yet?’
‘I’m not telling you anything,’ she snapped. ‘My love life is none of your business.’
‘We’re married,’ he reminded her.
‘We are not married! We haven’t been for the last three years.’
‘Your choice.’
‘You forced me to choose!’
‘Is that how you see it?’ His scorn was patent.
‘There’s no point in going over all that again.’
He stopped for a traffic light and turned to look at her. ‘You’re right. Let’s leave the past where it is and move to the present. Does Craig know you’re out with me tonight?’
‘It was his idea.’
‘His idea?’
‘To phone you. I told him it wouldn’t do any good.’
‘You’ve lost me. Any good for whom?’
‘Can’t this wait until dinner?’ she asked. After all, the whole idea of having a meal together was so that they could talk, wasn’t it? In the comfort of a restaurant, with a good meal hopefully making him amenable to her request.
Someone tooted impatiently. The light had turned green.
‘Okay,’ Devin said on a tight, irritated note. Shannon wasn’t sure if he was addressing her or the aggressive driver behind them. He released the brake and the car glided forward.
After a while she asked, ‘How did you know where I live?’
‘It’s not a secret, is it? You’re in the phone book.’
‘No, it’s not a secret.’
‘Well, then…’ He shrugged as if the subject bored him, and for the rest of the journey into the central city he concentrated on his driving.
It wasn’t until they had ordered from the glossy menu in the expensive restaurant he’d chosen—or that his secretary had chosen for him—that he leaned his forearms on the linen tablecloth, looked across the wreath of flowers surrounding a squat gold candle in a glass bowl, and said, ‘So why did you phone me, Shannon? If not just to give your bedmate a bit of kinky titillation?’
Shannon clenched her fingers about her fork. ‘Craig is not my bedmate. And if he were, I wouldn’t have done a thing like that.’
Looking at her thoughtfully, he said, ‘No, I don’t suppose you would. Considering the company you keep you’re surprisingly straitlaced in some ways.’
‘Is that a complaint?’ she asked, stung. Had he found her a boring lover? ‘I’m sorry if I wasn’t up to your expectations.’
‘You know I had no complaints,’ he said. ‘I’ve never enjoyed such a…satisfactory relationship, as far as sex goes.’
‘Satisfactory,’ she repeated. ‘Oh, thank you.’
‘I’ve offended you,’ he said calmly, but there was a lurking amusement in his eyes. ‘You were all I had imagined, and more,’ he said. ‘You have a beautiful body that I still dream about, and you made love like an angel—a surprisingly shy and yet intriguingly sexy angel.’
‘Angels have no sex,’ Shannon rejoined. ‘They’re gender neutral.’
‘Let’s not be too literal.’ He paused before saying with unusual deliberation, his lowered voice sending an insidiously pleasurable sensation curling down her spine, ‘It was a transcendental spiritual experience making love with you, as well as a very pleasurable physical one.’
Transcendental? An extravagant word, especially from Devin. But one that just about described it, for her as well as for him.
Not transcendental enough to keep them together. Her heart seemed to swell under the influence of something painful pushing against its walls from the inside. ‘That’s very…flattering,’ she said, ‘but I’m sure you’ve had equally spiritual experiences with other women.’
His face became mask-like. ‘Cynicism is new for you,’ he said.
‘A pity I didn’t have it when we met.’ It might have helped armour her against what was to come.
For a split second she saw a blaze of anger in his eyes, and then the waiter brought wine and made a ritual of pouring, and by the time he’d gone Devin had assumed a bland expression that told her nothing about his feelings.
He lifted his glass to her silently and waited for her to raise hers before he drank.
Replacing his glass on the table, he asked, ‘Do you want to know about Rachelle?’
‘No.’
‘We find each other useful for social occasions,’ he said, ignoring her denial. ‘We’re not emotionally involved. She has a bad marriage behind her and isn’t interested in an intimate relationship.’
So was he patiently waiting for her to become interested? And if they weren’t emotionally involved, did that necessarily mean they weren’t having sex? Some people were able to separate the two.
Don’t go there. ‘I’m not interested in your…girlfriends,’ she told him.
‘Sure?’ His gaze searched her face.
‘Absolutely. This meeting isn’t about personal matters, Devin. I have a business proposition for you.’
‘Business?’ He leaned back in his chair, regarding her dispassionately.
It crossed her mind that if she’d worn something low-cut, clinging, seductive, she might have had a better chance at persuading him.
Immediately
