Edge Of Deception. Daphne Clair

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СКАЧАТЬ will get you nowhere, Sholto.’

      ‘Jealousy? Over you?’ The contempt was back, in his voice. ‘Dream on, darling.’

      Annoyingly, she flushed. As he made to walk round her, she said, ‘I wasn’t talking about me. Almost every man here is jealous of Andy’s physique—and his looks. Just as every woman admires them.’

      ‘Every woman?’ His brows rose.

      ‘Is Averil an exception? Well...’ she paused pointedly, then shrugged ‘...perhaps,’ she conceded doubtfully. ‘There’s no accounting for taste, is there?’

      ‘Perhaps she’s not as easily impressed by the flagrantly obvious as...some.’ Sholto turned his head, his eyes going towards the group about Andy’s large frame. ‘Hadn’t you better get back to him, though? He probably has a short memory span.’

      Involuntarily her eyes had followed the track of his. Jane, her lively, piquant face uplifted, was talking animatedly, while Andy grinned down at her, fascinated. ‘There’s nothing wrong with Andy’s memory,’ she said. ‘Does Averil know about yours?’ If he was going to hit below the belt, he could expect to be hit back.

      ‘Mine?’ His eyes narrowed, gleaming under the thick lashes.

      ‘Does she know you’re likely to forget that you’re married?’

      ‘I never forgot that I was married,’ Sholto said bitingly after a loaded moment. ‘There was no chance of that.’

      ‘You could have fooled me,’ she said, giddy with the knowledge that she’d made some impression on his apparent imperviousness. ‘You did fool me for a while.’

      ‘You fooled yourself.’ His voice hardened, dark satin over steel. ‘It was you who wrecked our relationship, Tara. You believed what you wanted to, and indulged in a childish revenge. Well, it doesn’t matter to me now.’

      She couldn’t answer that—he always managed somehow to have the last word.

      He stepped around her and went up to the bar, and she returned to Andy’s side and stayed there for the rest of the interminable evening, leaning on his shoulder and pretending to listen, and laughing at the appropriate times.

      When the crowd began to thin out and a surreptitious survey showed no sign of Sholto and his fiancée, she found Chantelle and said good night. ‘Lovely party,’ she added.

      ‘We enjoyed it,’ Chantelle said. ‘Are you all right?’ Her eyes turned searching, shrewd.

      ‘A bit tired, maybe.’

      ‘Philip said you were talking to Averil’s fiancé.’

      ‘Sholto—yes,’ Tara said steadily. ‘Do you know him well?’

      ‘Averil’s Philip’s cousin, though they don’t get together very often, she’s away so much. Is Sholto a friend of yours?’

      Tara shook her head. ‘Not exactly. I hadn’t seen him in years. Well, thanks again.’ She turned away, making for the door.

      Outside the house, the quiet suburban street was lined with parked cars. She walked rapidly along the pavement towards hers, looking round as she heard footsteps behind her.

      ‘It’s only me,’ Andy said.

      ‘I didn’t realise you were leaving, too.’ She waited for him to fall into step beside her. ‘Did you bring a car?’

      ‘Yeah, but I’ll pick it up in the morning. I’ve had a couple too many beers.’

      ‘How are you getting home?’

      ‘Walk it off, I guess. Maybe I’ll pick up a cruising taxi later.’ They passed under the shadow of an overhanging tree, and Andy stumbled, flinging a heavy arm over Tara’s shoulders to help regain his balance. Automatically she hitched her own arm about his waist, shoring him up. ‘Thanks,’ he said. ‘Never could hold my liquor.’

      ‘Why drink it, then?’ Tara asked reasonably. She hadn’t noticed him drinking all that much.

      ‘Aw, come on,’ Andy protested. ‘A man’s gotta—you know.’

      ‘Not necessarily.’

      ‘I was okay until the fresh air hit me.’

      He still had his arm about her when she stopped by her car. ‘You’d better get in,’ she said. ‘I’ll take you home.’

      ‘You don’t hav’ta do that.’

      ‘You’re not safe to walk in your condition.’ She lifted his arm with two hands and slipped out of his hold to go round the car and unlock the doors. The latches leaped up with a loud thung.

      Andy rested his arms on the roof of the car as he smiled muzzily at her. ‘No one’s going to mess with me,’ he assured her.

      He was probably right. But there were other dangers for a man in his state. ‘You could get hit by a car,’ she argued.

      He put his chin on his linked hands. ‘I’m not that drunk, honest.’

      Tara opened her door and stood holding it as she looked over at him. ‘The door’s unlocked. Get in.’

      ‘Nah.’ Andy shook his head. ‘I’m okay.’

      ‘You are not okay! I’ll take you home.’

      He straightened finally. ‘All right, then. Thanks.’ He opened the door and folded himself into the seat.

      With a sigh of relief, Tara slid into the driver’s seat beside him. ‘Do up your safety belt.’

      ‘Wha’?’ He was leaning back, eyes closed, his hands loosely dropped between his knees.

      ‘Your safety belt.’ She sighed and reached across his substantial bulk to pull it down from its housing and across his broad chest to the clip between the seats. ‘There.’ She fastened her own belt and started the car.

      Andy snoozed all the way, and she wondered if she’d have to help him inside, but the nap seemed to help sober him, and when she dropped him outside his flat he thanked her nicely and walked slowly but almost steadily to his door, waving at her before he closed it behind him.

      ‘That’s my good deed for the week,’ Tara muttered to herself as she drove away. At least it had diverted her for a while from thinking about Sholto. And his impending marriage.

      Black depression hit her, and she swallowed hard. Damn him, why did she have to meet him again? Just when she was able to spend days at a time, even whole weeks, without thinking of him?

      * * *

      TARA SLEPT BADLY in spite of the late hour that she’d gone to bed. Dressing in the morning for work, she chose a summery, low-necked frock printed with yellow daisies in the hope that it would cheer her up and detract attention from the hollows under her eyes. Thank heaven it was Saturday and at lunchtime she could shut up the shop and spend the rest of the day alone. СКАЧАТЬ