I’m sure they’re very kind but I’ve brought you up to aim for the exceptional.’
‘They are exceptional!’ Normally the thinning of Flick’s lips would have been a warning to Allegra, but she was too angry to stop there. ‘They’re exceptionally generous and exceptionally fun. Max’s mother might not win any style awards, but she’s lovely, and his dad is one of the nicest, most decent, most honourable men I’ve ever met,’ she swept on. ‘I only wish I’d had a father like him!’
There was a moment of appalled silence, while her last words rang around the room. Flick had whitened. Allegra’s lack of a father was a taboo subject and Allegra knew it.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, letting out a long breath. ‘But why won’t you tell me about my father?’
‘I don’t wish to discuss it,’ said Flick tightly. ‘In your case, father is a biological term and nothing more. I’m sorry if I haven’t been enough of a parent for you.’
‘I didn’t mean that,’ Allegra tried to break in wretchedly, but Flick moved smoothly on.
‘I can only assure you that all I’ve ever wanted is the best for you. You have so much potential if only you would realise it. I really think it would be a mistake for you to tie yourself down to somebody ordinary who’ll just drag you down to his level.’
She should have known better than to try and press Flick about her father. ‘You don’t need to worry,’ said Allegra dully. ‘There’s no question of anything between Max and me and, even if there were, he’s going abroad to work soon.’
‘Just as well,’ said Flick.
It was just as well, Allegra told herself in the taxi home. Flick had suggested that she stay the night in her old room, but she wanted to go back to the flat. She didn’t want to admit to herself that she needed to know if Max had stayed with Darcy or not and it was like a sword being drawn out of her entrails when she opened the door and saw Max stretched out on the sofa.
‘You’re back early.’ Funny, her voice sounded light and normal when her heart was behaving so oddly, racing and lurching, bouncing off her chest wall like a drunk.
‘It’s half past one. It’s not that early.’
‘I suppose not.’ Allegra went to sit in the armchair. She picked at the piping. ‘So, how was your evening?’
‘Fine. Yours?’
‘Oh, you know. Lots of clever, glamorous guests. Witty conversation. Delicious food. The usual.’
‘Your average social nightmare.’
Allegra laughed and toed off her shoes so that she could curl her feet up beneath her. She was feeling better already.
‘So, did you find your true love over the canapés?’ Max asked.
‘I don’t know about that,’ she said. ‘I sat between two handsome, ambitious single men specially picked out for me by my mother.’
Max’s gaze flickered to her face and then away. ‘So who’s the lucky guy?’
‘Neither.’ Reaching up, she pulled the clips from her hair and shook it loose, oblivious to the way Max’s eyes darkened. ‘I’ve decided I need a relationship detox. I might abstain from all men for a while.’
‘That would be a shame.’
‘I’m sick of feeling that they only ask me out because I’m Flick Fielding’s daughter.’ It was the first time Allegra had said it out loud and she winced as she heard the resentment reverberating around the room.
‘That’s not why they ask you out,’ said Max roughly.
‘Isn’t it? Why else would they? I’m not clever the way they are. I can’t contribute to the conversation. I’ve got nothing to offer.’
‘You’re beautiful,’ said Max. ‘Come on, Legs, you must know you are,’ he said when she gaped at him. ‘You’re gorgeous. Any man would be glad to be seen with you. I don’t know who you sat next to tonight, but if you think he was more interested in Flick’s influence than in the way you looked, you’re not thinking straight!’
He would have been the one not thinking straight if he’d been sitting next to Allegra while she was wearing that dress. He would have been mesmerised by her arms, bare and slender, by those expressive hands, by the glow of her skin and the way the straight shiny hair threatened to slip out of its clips. He would have spent his whole time imagining how it would look falling to her shoulders, the way it was now.
He wouldn’t have been able to eat, Max knew. His mouth would have been too dry and he’d have been too busy watching the sweep of her lashes, the brightness of her eyes, the tempting hollow of her cleavage, the curve of her breasts... And thinking about her bare knees under the table, the long, sexy legs in those ridiculous shoes.
His head felt light and he realised it was because he’d stopped breathing. Max sucked in a steadying breath. Where had all that come from?
‘I didn’t know you thought I was beautiful,’ said Allegra, sounding thrown.
‘I thought so many other people would tell you there was no need for me to do the same. You’re still deeply irritating, mind,’ he said in an effort to drag the conversation back onto safe ground, ‘but of course you’re beautiful. I thought you knew.’
‘No.’ Allegra bent her head, pushing back the hair that slithered forward, but he still couldn’t see her face properly.
It was probably just as well. Max was uneasily aware that something tenuous had insinuated itself into the air, like a memory hovering just out of reach, or a forgotten word trembling on the tip of a tongue. Something that seemed to be drawing the air tighter, squeezing out the oxygen so that his chest felt tight and his breathing oddly sticky.
Could Allegra feel it?
Apparently not. Even as he struggled to heave in another breath, she was lifting her head and focusing on him with those eyes that seemed to get more beautiful every time he looked into them.
‘Tell me how you got on with Darcy,’ she said, sounding so completely normal that Max squirmed inwardly with humiliation. She wasn’t finding it hard to breathe. She wasn’t aware of the tension in the air, or snarled in a knot of inconvenient and inappropriate lust.
‘I wondered if you’d end up staying the night,’ she went on, but not as if she cared one way or the other.
So he obviously couldn’t admit that she was the reason he wasn’t tucked up next to the world’s favourite lingerie model right now.
Because Darcy had made it very clear that she was up for a lot more than just dinner, but it hadn’t felt right, not when he’d spent most of the evening wondering what Allegra was doing and who her bloody mother had lined up to sit next to her. Flick might be keen on big brains, but Max was prepared to bet that they were men too, and that they wouldn’t be above a flirtatious touch every now and then: Allegra’s shoulder, her hand, her knee...
It was only when Darcy had looked at him strangely that he’d realised he was
