‘Something like that,’ the other woman dismissed in a bored voice. ‘You haven’t changed at all,’ she scorned. ‘Although the men in your life seem to have matured somewhat.’ She looked Dick over appreciatively, giving him her most seductive smile.
Christi stiffened at Marsha’s open derision for her lack of years, glancing uncomfortably at Lucas. He looked so grim, his eyes glittering silver with suppressed anger, that Christi just wanted to put her arms around him and tell him everything would be all right, that Marsha wouldn’t be able to torment him with the upbringing of his children any longer. But it would be a hollow promise; while Marsha had Lucas’s children, she took great delight in making him dance to her tune any time she wished. For a man as forceful and dynamic as Lucas, it was an impossible situation.
She woodenly made the introductions. Lucas’s greeting was terse, to say the least, Marsha’s a sensuous purr, and Dick’s after his initial surprise at hearing that Marsha and Lucas, the flirtatious woman and the grim-faced man, were husband and wife, was cautiously warm; he kept a wary eye on the other man’s face with its stony expression and hooded grey eyes. He obviously didn’t know what to make of the oddly matched pair, and Christi took pity on him and suggested they had better leave now or they would be late for dinner.
She cast one last anxious glance at Lucas as the lift doors closed behind her and Dick, her heart twisting at how bleak he looked.
‘What a strange couple,’ Dick remarked dazedly at her side.
Christi’s mouth tightened. ‘They’re divorced,’ she snapped.
‘Oh!’ he said with some relief. ‘Oh,’ he repeated again in soft speculation.
‘And yes, Marsha is very available, in case you’re interested,’ she told him sharply, marching out of the building to come to a halt on the edge of the pavement. She was shaking with anger, and drew in a deep, steadying breath to calm herself.
Dick caught up with her in a couple of strides; he seemed surprised by her outburst, and looked at her enquiringly.
‘I’m sorry.’ She gave a rueful grimace. ‘Marsha doesn’t bring out the best in me, and—well, I did warn you it had been a bad day.’ And it was getting worse by the moment! Dick couldn’t be blamed for finding Marsha attractive, especially after the woman had come on to him as strongly as she had. At the time, it had just seemed to her that Marsha was to blame for the fact that Lucas wasn’t able to fall in love again, and that the man Christi did have interested in her was also succumbing to the other woman’s undoubted sensual attraction. In that moment, it had just seemed too much! ‘Although that’s no reason to behave like a shrew,’ she apologised again.
This time, instead of feeling annoyance when Dick mentioned Dizzy, Christi felt relieved to be on neutral ground, relaxing slowly on the drive to the restaurant as they discussed the success of Dizzy’s illustrations. The most recent publication to come out with one of her illustrations was a Claudia Laurence book, one of the most successful ever.
Not many people realised it, but Christi’s uncle Zach was, in fact, Claudia Laurence, the author of those ‘hot’ historicals that always had the public clamouring for more. Christi herself had found out quite by accident, shocked to learn that the man she had once termed ‘fusty and dusty’ wrote those enjoyable adventurous romps. As Dizzy’s agent, Dick was also in on the secret, and they both relaxed as they discussed the books.
Her uncle’s secret was one she hadn’t even told Lucas, knowing how sensitive her uncle was about the subject, for his career as a professor of history was just as important to him. It wasn’t that she thought Lucas would tell anyone else, it was just that—well, it wasn’t her secret to tell. Maybe if he had been able to love her …
‘Is there anyone there?’ Dick spoke in a ghostly voice.
Christi blinked at him in surprise, having been completely unaware of her surroundings; the exclusive restaurant, and Dick, had faded from her mind as her thoughts had once again dwelled on Lucas.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she apologised again. ‘I’m afraid I’m not very good company tonight,’ she added with embarrassment.
‘That’s all right,’ he accepted ruefully. ‘I guess my conversation must have been boring for you.’
She had no idea what the conversation had been about! But Dick didn’t seem about to go over it again, suggesting they order their meal instead.
Christi felt terrible about her inattentiveness, putting Lucas—and what Marsha could possibly want to see him about—firmly from her mind, and concentrating on being charming to Dick.
Nevertheless, it wasn’t the most successful evening she had ever had, and as Dick kissed her briefly at her door, obviously waiting for an invitation to come in, she knew it would be kinder not to encourage him any further. He was a nice enough man, but he certainly wasn’t going to be the one to supplant Lucas in her heart!
‘No?’ he realised gently.
Christi gave a shaky smile. ‘I am sorry——’ She was silenced by his fingertips over her lips.
‘It was a nice evening,’ he smiled. ‘I enjoyed your company—I’m not so sure you were actually with me most of the evening,’ he teased without rancour, ‘but it was a pleasant time.’
Pleasant. It wasn’t much of a eulogy. She had to face it: as a return to the dating scene, it had been a disaster!
She was shaking her head as she walked aimlessly around her apartment, filled with a restlessness that wouldn’t be satisfied until she had spoken to Lucas again. But she couldn’t go knocking on his door at eleven-thirty at night!
Damn it, why couldn’t she? They were friends, at least, and friends cared about each other, and he had looked awful when she saw him earlier with Marsha. He could even be ill. Or …
Why bother to search for excuses? She had to talk to him, and that was all there was to it!
Christi was encouraged by the fact that she could hear music playing softly inside the apartment next to hers, and hesitated only briefly outside the door as the possibility that he wasn’t alone passed through her mind. She would take that risk; he could only ask her to wait until tomorrow before talking to him.
She knew she had been right to come when she saw how haggard he looked when he opened the door to her ring, his dark hair looking as if he had been running agitated fingers through it for most of the evening, his face pale, his pale grey shirt partly unbuttoned down his chest to reveal the start of the dark hair that grew there, a glass of whisky held in his hand. It was the latter that told her how disturbed he was; Lucas never drank alcohol, and only ever kept a supply in for guests.
She shifted uncomfortably on his doorstep as he looked at her with narrowed eyes. ‘I—er—I thought I would come and tell you how my evening went.’ It was positively the last thing she had meant to say, but suddenly she had felt as if she were intruding on something he didn’t want to talk about just now. ‘You did say you would like a report on each of my dates,’ she added lamely as he continued to look at her.
To her relief, he relaxed slightly, a faint glimmer of amusement darkening his eyes as he held the door wider for her to enter.
The lounge was in shadows, with only a small table-lamp for illumination, the Kenny Rogers cassette she had bought
