that her years as the wealthy and privileged Mrs Diamond might have turned her into some sort of snob, since Salome Twynan would never have looked down her nose at someone for doing any kind of a job at all.
Don’t be silly, she berated herself. You have every reason to feel bitchy towards this man. It has nothing to do with what job he’s done, or hasn’t done!
‘So you really have no idea why Mr Diamond ended your marriage?’ Michael asked, giving her a penetrating look as he handed over her drink.
The intensity those black eyes could project unnerved her. ‘None,’ she admitted.
He sat down on the sofa next to her, his own drink moving to his lips, those same disturbing eyes watching her closely over the rim of the glass.
Salome tried desperately to ignore how his gaze and closeness were affecting her. She felt stifled, nervous, afraid even. Of what? she puzzled frantically. Because she was alone with him in his apartment? Michael Angellini didn’t seem the type of man to make a crass pass unless given some encouragement. He was, on the surface at least, a gentleman.
Salome pushed aside her illogical apprehension and put her mind back on the issue at hand. ‘I came home one day,’ she explained somewhat reluctantly, ‘and found my bags packed. Ralph gave me no explanation other than to state that our marriage was over.’
The man next to her was clearly taken aback. He straightened and just stared at her, his glass hovering at his lips. Salome sipped her own drink, her hand shaking slightly.
‘I...I tried to find out the reason, but he wouldn’t budge,’ she went on agitatedly. ‘In the end I suppose I got a little hysterical. Ralph simply called one of his body-guards and had me removed from the premises.’
‘My God, that’s appalling!’
The depth of disgust Salome saw in his face startled her. Yet it was oddly comforting to have someone else find Ralph’s behaviour inexcusable. Even her own mother had presumed she had been to blame. But then, poor Molly always thought women were to blame when a relationship ended.
‘As I said to you earlier,’ she managed to get out, ‘I haven’t seen Ralph in the fourteen months since that day. Not that I haven’t tried.’ And she found herself relaying to her surprisingly intent listener all her endeavours to have a personal meeting with her ex-husband.
‘So, you see,’ she finished, ‘I’m anxious to hear anything about Ralph at all. I want some answers. I need some answers!’
‘Of course you do,’ he agreed strongly. ‘Of course. No one deserves to be treated like that!’
Not even a gold-digging little tramp like me, Salome added silently with a weary sigh. Strangely enough, all of a sudden, this man’s low opinion of her hurt. It hurt like mad. Ralph might have been able to snub his nose at the opinion of others, but Salome was finding it increasingly upsetting to have people believe she was little better than a woman of easy virtue.
An involuntary shudder ran through her, bringing a puzzled frown from her companion. ‘Is there something wrong with your drink?’ he asked.
It was just as well, Salome realised bitterly, that she had grown expert at the art of the superbly bland social face, which consisted of totally unreadable eyes and a soulless smile.
Yet, somehow, hiding the hurt this man kept dishing out, however unconsciously, proved to be more difficult than usual. That plastic smile just wouldn’t come, and when she looked at him she found herself becoming lost in those incredible black eyes of his, which at that moment were filled with a disarming sympathy. She dragged her own away, and stared down at the half-empty drink.
‘No,’ she said tautly, twisting the glass around and around in her hands. ‘It’s fine.’ She gulped most of it back in one go, then cleared her throat and looked up. ‘You’re being very nice to me, Michael. Considering...’
For a second he just looked at her, but she thought she detected a hint of irony in his eyes. He reached to pick up his own drink once more, turning his eyes back to hold her nervous ones with consummate ease. ‘My friends call me Mike,’ he said quietly.
For a second Salome was taken aback. Then she laughed. ‘I’m not a friend, though, am I?’
He smiled and shrugged. ‘You could become one.’
‘I doubt that very much.’
‘Why?’
Her expression was incredulous. ‘Why? For one thing, you don’t like me!’
‘Aah...’ His smile became quite cynical. ‘I can’t deny that I didn’t like you much when you were Mrs Diamond. But as...Salome’s your name, isn’t it?’
‘Y-yes,’ she admitted warily.
‘As single Salome, I think I could like you well enough,’ he stated with a seductive softness, then leaned back and took another swallow of his drink.
Salome’s insides tightened. Was this what she’d subconsciously been waiting for, been agitated about? For her one-time foe to make a sexual move towards her? Her glare was withering. ‘I suppose I’m going to have to get used to that sort of remark,’ she snapped. ‘But I would have thought that a man as eligible as yourself wouldn’t have to resort to chasing frustrated divorcees.’
There was a sardonic lift to one eyebrow. ‘And are you frustrated, Salome?’
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake!’ She stood up and slammed her glass down on to the low marble-topped table in front of the sofa. ‘I’m not going to stay here and exchange sexual innuendoes. Obviously your offer of friendship was nothing but a ruse. You couldn’t give a damn about helping me with news of Ralph. All you really want is to get me into bed!’
He stared at her for what seemed like ages, then a wry smile tugged at his lips. ‘Let me assure you, my dear Salome,’ he drawled, ‘that such a thought has never entered my head. Of course,’ he added, his gaze travelling slowly over her heaving breasts, ‘I wouldn’t knock you back if you offered. Or aren’t you that frustrated?’
‘Oh!’ she gasped. ‘Oh!’ she repeated with a stamp of her foot. ‘Of all the—’ Flustered and fuming, she whirled on her heels and began striding towards the door.
‘Mr Diamond always had the same young woman with him.’
Salome froze mid-stride, then turned. So there was another woman, a new ‘project’ for Ralph to work on, a new ‘possession’. Funny, she would have thought she’d be relieved to find an answer at last. Instead, she still felt devastated. Yet there she’d been lately, thinking her love for Ralph had finally begun to die.
‘A—a young woman?’ she repeated blankly.
‘Yes. A brunette. Attractive. Very well-groomed. A career girl, by the look of her. Though I have to confess I don’t think they were business acquaintances. Fact is,’ Michael went on quite ruthlessly, ‘there’s no doubt in my mind they were lovers. I saw them come out of the penthouse very early in the morning together a couple of times. Once they had their arms around each other in the corridor.’
Lovers?
Salome
