Sharon Kendrick Collection. Sharon Kendrick

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СКАЧАТЬ of clairvoyancy! Of course he told me—how else would I know? Come on, Triss. I know everything about the whole situation is a little heavy, but try to lighten up a little, for goodness’ sake! Not to mention for your sake—and Simon’s—and—dare I mention it?—Connack’s too!’

      Triss managed a small smile. ‘Sorry. I know I’m Gloom of the Year at the moment! What were you going to say?’

      ‘Just that we could come over—if you like. For lunch on Sunday, if it’s a fine day. It might help to ease the atmosphere between you. And if other people are around—well, you can’t just go at one another hammer and tongs, now, can you?’

      It sounded like a good idea. ‘I’ll call you,’ said Triss. ‘Listen, I have to go—there’s someone at the door and it’s probably Cormack.’

      ‘Go, then—and good luck,’ said Martha. ‘And ring me! OK?’

      ‘I will. Bye!’

      Triss felt as nervous as a child going to school for the first time as she pulled open the door.

      Cormack was standing there looking absolutely scrumptious, and Triss felt her heart sinking with despair. He had no right to look that good, she thought to herself. No right at all!

      He had changed from the black leather and was dressed now with an almost quiet conservatism—which, conversely, only made him look all the more elementally sexy: pristine white jeans and a slubsilk shirt in palest blue, with a much darker blue sweater knotted casually around his neck. From his finger swung a soft navy jacket.

      His blue eyes glinted, although Triss could not be sure if it was with devilment or irritation.

      ‘Finished?’ he queried softly, and Triss realised to her horror that she had been ogling him like a groupie!

      ‘Come in!’ she said hastily.

      He entered the hall with a thoughtful kind of dignity, as if he had not been there earlier that day, and Triss felt unaccountably nervous. She noticed, too, that he carried a brown leather holdall, presumably containing enough clothes for...how long?

      ‘Have you eaten?’ she babbled.

      ‘No.’ He put the holdall down by the coat stand and hung up his jacket. ‘Have you?’

      She shook her head. ‘I could cook us something...’

      ‘Or we could ring out for a pizza or a curry?’ he suggested.

      Triss shook her head again. She thought of the forced inactivity while they waited for the food to arrive—and wait they would certainly have to. Delivery companies always had tremendous difficulty finding houses on the estate, since each one was tucked away so discreetly.

      ‘I’d rather cook,’ she told him. ‘There’s plenty of food. Come through to the kitchen—it’s this way.’

      ‘I know,’ he reminded her gravely. ‘I was here earlier, remember?’

      ‘Yes, of course!’

      In the kitchen, Triss felt momentarily nonplussed, wondering if her hands would stop trembling enough for her to be able to chop up anything at all. ‘What do you want to eat?’

      ‘Don’t mind. Heat up a pizza or something.’

      But that was the last thing she wanted to do. If she provided him with instant food, then it would leave all that time dragging interminably while it heated up. And they would either be left swopping polite, meaningless pleasantries, as they were now, or hurling bitter recriminations at each other across the room.

      At least if she cooked she could keep herself busy—wouldn’t have to stare into those beautiful blue eyes which reminded her with a pang that was almost unbearable of just what she had lost.

      She stared at him rather helplessly. ‘Would you like some wine?’

      ‘Please. Want me to open it?’

      She nodded, fished out the best red she could find in the rack and handed it over to him.

      He extracted the cork and half filled the two glasses she had pushed across the counter towards him. There was a slightly awkward moment when she lifted her glass to toast him—more out of habit than anything else.

      His mouth curved into a sardonic line. ‘What would you like to drink to, Triss?’ he enquired mockingly. ‘To secrets?’

      ‘Or to betrayal?’ she countered sweetly.

      ‘And how am I supposed to have betrayed you?’

      ‘There is no supposed about it!’ she snapped, taking a huge slug of wine which made her feel better immediately. ‘You did betray me, Cormack!’

      ‘You mean that I made love to you when I was involved with another woman?’

      ‘Damned right I do!’

      ‘I see. You don’t think that if I betrayed anyone it was Helga? She was, after all, the woman I was having a relationship with at the time. Not you.’

      Triss stared at him in shocked disbelief. ‘I don’t believe you just said that.’

      ‘Don’t you? Do you think that you are solely entitled to my loyalty, Triss? Even though I had not seen you or heard from you then for almost two years?’

      To her astonishment, he settled himself on one of the stools, took a sip of wine and contemplated his glass thoughtfully. When he looked up again his blue gaze was quite steady.

      ‘It might be easier,’ he told her calmly, ‘if you were able to see the incident within the context of the wider issues at stake.’

      ‘How dare you patronise me?’ Triss slammed her glass down on the counter and wine slopped into a claret puddle on the white marble. ‘And what the hell was that remark supposed to mean? Are you trying to blind me with Hollywood psycho-babble now, Cormack? When the bottom line is that you were in a relationship with some—’

      ‘Helga was not some anything!’ he interrupted immediately, his voice gritty and abrasive.

      ‘Oh? You’re defending her honour now, are you?’ Triss finally snapped, and all the bitterness and jealousy which had eaten away at her for so long suddenly erupted like a sore left to fester.

      ‘Of course I’m defending her honour,’ he responded, with a quiet dignity which reminded Triss of why she had loved him so much—though his words absolutely appalled her.

      ‘Y-you are?’

      ‘Why on earth not? Or would you expect me to treat a woman I respected badly?’

      “Then why didn’t you marry her?’ she cried angrily. ‘If she was so bloody marvellous!’

      He drew in a deep breath. ‘Because I was not in love with her—’ their eyes met for a long, tense moment ‘—the way I was in love with you.’

      Triss noticed his use of the past tense and could have wept. She drank some more wine СКАЧАТЬ