like a large, watchful animal, his eyes lynx-like and unblinking. ‘What do you want from me, Shannon?’
She breathed deeply, quickly, and passed her tongue briefly over her lips. ‘I need money,’ she said. Might as well spit it out and get it over with. ‘And I need it fast. You’re the only person I know who has the kind of money I’m looking for.’
CHAPTER TWO
‘I SEE.’ Devin straightened, and folded his arms, his face showing only guarded curiosity. ‘What is it? You’ve overspent and need a loan?’
‘Nothing like that. I have a proposition for you.’
His brows rose. ‘A proposition?’
‘A business proposal.’ She had to put a positive spin on this, convince him that he wouldn’t be throwing cash down the drain. Devin was as hard-headed about money as any other successful businessman, probably more than most. ‘It’s an investment opportunity.’
‘A film,’ he guessed, his resigned, slightly contemptuous tone implying that he didn’t think much of the idea. His eyes strayed to a neighbouring table where a party of a half dozen women were chattering and laughing.
Shannon leaned forward to catch his attention, trying to infuse all her passionate belief in the project into her voice, her eyes. ‘A special film. It could be a great film if I can raise the finance. An international success.’
Devin still looked sceptical.
‘New Zealand is hot at the box office right now,’ Shannon pressed.
‘Right up there with Hollywood?’ Devin queried dryly.
Brushing aside the sarcasm, Shannon launched into her carefully prepared background pitch about the growing worldwide film market.
The party at the next table had ordered several bottles of wine and were obviously celebrating something. Shannon had to raise her voice a little.
The waiter brought their meals and Shannon picked up her knife and fork, but kept talking. She had hardly touched the tender pork medallions in their golden apricot and orange sauce when Devin, halfway through his medium-rare pepper steak, raised a hand. ‘Eat your dinner,’ he ordered. ‘It’s a shame to let it spoil.’
Maybe she’d said too much. Devin liked good food and good wine and enjoyed savouring it. She should have remembered that. In business she knew he was incisive, practical, getting straight to the point, known as a fast worker. But paradoxically he took his pleasures in more leisurely fashion, giving time to appreciating scents, tastes, textures.
He had made love like that, as if there was all the time in the world to explore the soft inner skin of her elbow with a fingertip, tracing the faint path of a blue vein, to sift his fingers through her hair and admire the silky fan of it falling against the pillow, to inhale the perfume she’d dabbed behind her ear, his tongue finding the shallow groove, and to delight in looking at her naked body, his head propped on one hand while the other made tantalising patterns about her breasts, her navel, touching lightly, teasing until she raised her arms and pulled him fiercely to her, unable to bear the exquisite torment any longer.
‘What are you thinking about?’
His voice brought her back with a jerk to their surroundings. She realised she was sitting with her fork in her hand and probably a dreamy expression on her face. Hastily she lifted a piece of pork to her mouth, ducking her head as she cut another tender slice. ‘This sauce,’ she said. ‘It’s delicious.’
She must stop thinking that way, stop remembering. Their marriage was history now and they’d both come a long way.
She’d heard that Devin was spending a lot of time in America, after setting up a branch of his company there. After their split she’d consciously avoided places where she might expect to meet him, although she couldn’t escape the odd news item, the unexpected encounter with a photograph in some magazine picked up in a doctor’s waiting room, or an article about his company on the business pages of the daily paper.
She had hoped that when they did meet face to face she’d be able to confront him with indifference, their shared past a distant memory.
But one look at him and it had all come flooding back. The almost instant attraction of their first meeting, the golden-hazed weeks of his whirlwind courtship, their wedding day when the world was full of dazzling promise and they were certain their love would last forever and a day, despite the scarcely hidden dismay of his parents and family. The incredible pleasure of their lovemaking, and the way they’d seemed to be two halves of a whole, neither of them complete without the other.
And then the gradual disillusion and the pain of parting.
‘Dessert?’ Devin offered when she pushed away her plate.
Shannon shook her head, dispersing the memories. ‘Maybe some cheese.’
A burst of laughter from their neighbours drowned her voice and Devin frowned. ‘What?’
‘I’ll have the cheese board.’ Shannon didn’t share his surprising sweet tooth, but if he wanted something more she needed to be occupied rather than waiting for him to finish.
Devin ordered a chocolate mousse cake that came garnished with a generous swirl of whipped cream. He cut off a slice with a fork and offered it to Shannon.
Before she’d thought, she opened her mouth and allowed the morsel to slide onto her tongue. The achingly familiar, intimate gesture brought an unexpected sensation of tearing grief and regret. Appalled, she quickly swallowed the melting mouthful and grabbed at her wineglass, downing a gulp of red dessert wine to steady herself.
‘Don’t you like the cake?’ he asked her.
‘It’s fine,’ she answered huskily. ‘Very…rich.’
He took a piece himself, half closing his eyes as he savoured it. ‘Mmm,’ he murmured. ‘Superb.’
Shannon nibbled at bits of cheese while Devin finished the dessert. When he was done she pushed the board to him. ‘Help yourself.’
He had a sliver of New Zealand-made Edam and a small piece of Gruyère, then said, ‘Coffee?’ And as the hilarity at the next table reached a new pitch, ‘Or we could go back to my place and have it there.’
‘Your place?’
‘It’s not far.’ Watching her hesitate, he said with a touch of impatience, ‘You know me better than to imagine I’m luring you into my lair for nefarious purposes. And it’s a quieter place to talk than this.’
She had to agree with that. ‘I could give you coffee at my place,’ she offered reluctantly.
‘Mine’s closer. I’ll see you home later.’
Maybe he’d feel more kindly disposed to her plans if she fell in with his suggestion. Though why he’d made it she wasn’t sure. ‘All right,’ she said. ‘If that’s what you’d prefer.’ He looked amused at her acquiescence, and she wondered if he was bending her to his will simply because he could, knowing she wanted something from him. Devin liked to be in control of any situation.
After
