her mother’s new live-in boyfriend—Molly was not high on tact. Although, to give him credit, Mike wasn’t looking down his nose at Molly, as Charles had done. Even Ralph, she thought wryly, had wanted her mother kept safely in the background.
But Mike’s easygoing acceptance of Molly and Wayne did not excuse his presumptuous invitation a moment ago. Truly, men could be the limit! Would it damage his ego to admit this was a one-off platonic date? And did he have to put on that lady-killer act, just for the benefit of her mother?
Piqued and irritated, she literally had to plaster her smile in place. Already, it was feeling like cement, and she suspected that, any moment, cracks would begin to show. She had to get out of here, and right now!
‘That would be nice,’ she agreed with forced sweetness, then turned to her mother. ‘See you tomorrow, Molly,’ she said as she bent to plant a kiss on her cheek.
‘You too, love. And you know what they say...’ Molly threw after them as they made their way out on to the porch and down the front steps. ‘If you can’t be good, be careful!’
Salome groaned under her breath. Molly had always had this embarrassing fondness for that type of sexually flavoured comment.
‘Should we stop at a chemist’s on the way?’ Mike chuckled. ‘Or shall we be daring and leave matters up to fate?’
An angry exasperation welled up inside Salome, but she bit her tongue till they were beside the white Ferrari in the shadows of the tree-lined driveway, then she turned to set steely eyes upon her escort.
‘Let’s get one thing straight, Mike,’ she said curtly. ‘I’m going to dinner with you tonight because you were quite kind to me today, and because I thought this was your way of apologising for your narrow-minded dislike of me all these years. But I don’t want you to get the idea this is going to become a habit, just because I’m moving into the penthouse next to yours. Also, let me assure you that when I go out with a man on a platonic date I don’t need to buy contraceptives!’ She glared at him in what she imagined was dignified reproach.
His head tipped slightly to one side, his expression one of mild pity. ‘Poor Salome...I can see that your recent divorce has destroyed your sense of humour.’
‘Really?’ Her tone was very prickly.
‘Yes, really.’ He put down her case next to the Ferrari, and slipped his hands into the pockets of his trousers. ‘I wasn’t suggesting a thing. I was having a joke, merely following on from your mother’s quip, that was all.’
There was a weary note to his voice that made her feel guilty. Looking at the situation more objectively she realised she had over-reacted abominably. ‘I see...I—I’m sorry, then,’ she said, then added defensively, ‘But I was worried that you might be having after-dinner expectations.’
‘“Expectations”? What kind of “expectations”?’
‘Sexual expectations!’ Good grief! Why did she have to blush when she said that? Thank the lord the light was dim here.
‘Ahh...’
A dark, predatory light gleamed momentarily in his eyes, bringing immediate panic. ‘I won’t sleep with you, Mike Angellini!’ Salome burst out, and was relieved that her words sounded firm. Not as rattled and shaky as she was feeling.
His laugh was low and drily amused. ‘I don’t recall asking you to. Anyway, I told you once before, Salome, sleeping with you is not high on my list of priorities. Look, we’ll have to get a move on,’ he said, deftly changing the subject. ‘Our booking was for eight-fifteen, and the restaurant I’m taking you to is back at McMahon’s Point. Have you got a key for this boot, and I’ll put your case in?’
Salome stared speechlessly up at him for a moment, her mind in total confusion. She should have been pleased to be on the end of such a blunt rejection, but she wasn’t. She felt annoyed.
‘Your key?’ Mike repeated, his voice betraying a growing impatience. ‘You have to follow me in your car, remember?’
Salome snapped out of her startled bemusement with a degree of fluster. She had difficulty finding her key, and when she handed it over she was astonished to see her hands were trembling. Mike gave both her hands, then her face, a sharp look, but took the key and deposited her case in the boot.
‘Keep close,’ he advised as he handed back the keys. ‘I wouldn’t want to lose you in the traffic.’
‘Yes...yes, I will,’ she assured him, her voice not at all steady.
Again his eyes raked hers. ‘Truce still intact?’ he asked with a wary little smile.
‘I suppose so,’ she choked out.
‘Mm.’ His frown showed he didn’t quite believe her, but then he shrugged and strode off towards where his bronze Jaguar was parked at the kerb. Almost against her will, Salome’s eyes followed him, lingering on the breadth of his shoulders, the feral grace of his stride, the way his glossy black waves gleamed lustrously under a streetlight. Her stomach fluttered as a thought struck. Was it possible that Ralph’s accusation had finally come true—that she did indeed now want this man to want her? Was that why she’d been jealous when he’d paid attention to her mother, then angry when he’d told her he wasn’t interested in her in that way?
No, she decided, frowning and shaking her head. No...that wasn’t possible. That didn’t make sense. I won’t accept that, she argued with herself. Basically, we dislike each other. It’s just female vanity, that’s all. No woman likes a man to say outright that he doesn’t want her. Yes, that sounded right. I’ll put it down to a case of female pique.
A shiver ran through Salome as a puff of wind blew down the driveway, rustling the leaves at her feet.
‘You like standing out there in the cold, do you?’ Mike called to her over the bonnet of his car.
Salome looked up and pulled a face at him. ‘Hardly.’
‘Look...’ His voice was gaining a frustrated edge. ‘I realise you don’t really want to go out with me, but you can’t very well trundle back inside now, can you? And you have to eat somewhere, so come on, get that sexy bod of yours into your white charger and move it! And remember, if you’re too slow I’ll lose you.’
Throwing her a challenging look, he ducked into the car.
Her green eyes blazed angrily Mike’s way, but he was already behind the wheel, the Jaguar growling into life. Taking up the challenge, Salome followed suit, jumping into the Ferrari and firing the engine with a furious flick of her wrist. When the Jaguar shot away from the kerb with a squeal of tyres, she was hot on its tail.
THERE were several sticky moments on the way to the restaurant when a lesser driver could easily have lost the Jaguar in front. But Salome didn’t. She stuck to its gleaming bumper-bar like glue, letting neither amber traffic lights nor changes of lane faze her. In an odd sort of way, it was the most exhilarating experience she had had in months, even if more inspired by temper than a natural love of speed and danger.
She
