His Cousin's Wife. Lynsey Stevens

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      ‘It’s late.’

      ‘Not too late,’ he cut in determinedly. ‘I’ll drive you home.’

      ‘Shea came with me,’ David stated, obviously piqued by the turn of events.

      ‘I’m sure you won’t mind this time, mate.’ Alex produced his practiced, disarming smile, which Shea noticed didn’t quite reach his eyes. ‘I want to see Norah so it seems I can save you the trouble of dropping Shea off. I go that way anyhow.’

      David drew himself up to his full height, a few inches shorter than Alex, and was about to argue the point. Somehow, Shea knew he would come off second best to this older, so sure of himself Alex, and she put her hand apologetically on the young man’s arm.

      ‘It’s all right, David. I’ll go with Alex this time. But thank you for giving me a lift to the meeting.’

      David’s chin jutted belligerently but he relented and, with a curt goodnight, he reminded Shea he would be seeing her tomorrow and walked away, leaving Shea with Alex.

      ‘Shall we go, too?’ he suggested, motioning for Shea to precede him to the door and she could only do as he bade her.

      Appearances must be kept, she taunted herself disparagingly as she strode through the doorway and down the loose wooden stairs. And Alex was right behind her. She could feel him with every step she took.

      Shea quickened her pace, but once around the corner and into the parking lot she paused, looking about the semi-lit area for a car that Alex might be likely to be driving.

      Her breathing was shallow and she made herself move forward again until she put her hand shakily on the solidness of the first car she came to, as though the familiarity of its cool metal would help her keep a hold on her composure.

      His footsteps crunched loudly on the gravel as he caught up to her and her sensitised nerve endings vibrated until she could almost physically feel the touch of his body as he drew closer to her.

      He hesitated then, too, and in the cacophonous silence that swelled about them Shea felt her heartbeats accelerate until the sound of them rose to almost deafen her. And then he moved around her so tense body to unlock the front passenger door for her. He stood back just as the lights of another departing vehicle flashed over them, illuminating the dark and gleaming duco of a low-slung Jaguar XJS.

      Her lips twisted wryly. Alex had always wanted a Jag. It had been his teenage dream. Now he had one and his dream had become reality. It was a pity, she thought caustically, that he’d had to sell himself to get it.

      As she moved jerkily forward his hand went to her elbow in an unconscious gesture of assistance. That fleeting touch burned Shea’s skin and she drew a quivering breath as she all but fell into the seat in her haste to break that scorching contact. And then he was striding around the front of the car to slide into the driver’s seat beside her.

      Moistening her dry lips with her tongue tip Shea admonished herself as the silence screamed. Say something! Anything! She had to make an effort at mundane conversation, not sit there like a stuffed dummy. She had to show him how little his return meant to her. She had to be cool, civilised, unperturbed.

      Unperturbed? She bit back a laugh. Somehow she didn’t think a racing pulse, a tightness in the chest and paralysed vocal chords were exactly the most common signs of composure.

      It was a caustic, unpalatable pill to have to swallow, that Alex Finlay still had the power after all these years, after all he’d done to her, to scatter those hard-won remnants of self-possession to the four winds.

      And Alex seemed just as loathe to make an attempt at conversation. Glancing sideways at him Shea was unable to read anything into his shadowed features. The tilt of his chin, the line of his square jaw, only brought back aching memories and her. fingers balled into fists, nails biting into her palms.

      The heavy seconds stretched into a couple of interminable minutes that seemed like hours and the silence grew impossibly heavier. Now Shea felt instinctively that he was watching her. The electric tension sparked between them, flaming, growing, until Shea thought she could bear it no longer. Then he spoke.

      CHAPTER THREE

      ‘HOW’VE you been, Shea?’ he asked huskily.

      How did he think she’d been? she wanted to scream at him. Did he imagine a broken heart was fatal? Did he think she’d fallen apart, so far apart that she’d never be able to pick up the pieces? Well, she hadn’t. She very nearly had. But the pieces had been back in place long ago, super-glued, and she’d never let anyone do what he did to her again. Not ever.

      ‘I’m fine.’ She shrugged, her voice only slightly constricted.

      ‘You look,’ Alex paused, ‘great,’ he finished and Shea thought she sensed a tightness in his deep voice.

      She must have been mistaken, she decided, for if she wasn’t—Shea swallowed quickly, cutting off the entry into that small part inside her that she suspected would begin to tremble with excitement, would threaten to race madly, wildly away. No. She had to keep herself under firm control and not allow the fascination of the old Alex Finlay to tempt her.

      ‘Thank you,’ she replied tritely, and continued when she realised her voice sounded almost steady. ‘Let’s just say the years seem to have been kind to both of us.’

      Alex made no comment on that but Shea noticed his hands clenched on the steering wheel for a moment before he reached out to switch on the ignition. He put the Jag into gear and pulled out of the parking lot, the scrunching of the gravel beneath the wide tyres easily drowning out the low purr of the engine.

      ‘So, what are you doing these days?’ he asked as they turned onto the bitumen roadway. ‘My father told me you own your own business.’

      ‘Yes.’ The monosyllable sounded harsh and she took a quick, steadying breath. She had to be cool. Aloof. He meant nothing to her anymore. ‘Yes, I have my own fashion boutique.’

      They were being so very civilised. Shea barely suppressed a bitter laugh. Good manners were reflected in polite conversation. They’d both been well taught.

      ‘I design and make my own range of clothing,’ she added with continued decorum.

      ‘I can’t say I’m surprised. You always were interested in that sort of thing.’

      No! a voice inside her threw at him angrily. Don’t talk about always. Don’t dare talk about that. He, of all people, had no right to do that.

      She clutched at her slipping composure and fixed her gaze on the dark outlines of the trees beyond the road, not really seeing their shadowy shapes. But the murkiness of night seemed synonymous with what had happened back then.

      Silence extended between them again and Alex sighed. Shea was unable to prevent herself from looking at him then and, for fleeting seconds before his attention returned to the road, his eyes met and held hers in the semi-dark cocoon of the car’s cabin.

      ‘How’s your business going? Are you doing well?’ he asked and she had to consciously drag her concentration back to the theme of their conversation.

      ‘Quite СКАЧАТЬ