“Nothing wrong with looking for happiness,” he said to ease her nerves.
A tentative smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. “I suppose not, but I was determined to get it through a great relationship and, well…” She paused and reached for her drink, then changed her mind.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have made you talk about this.” He touched her hand lightly. “You don’t have to talk about it.”
But she surprised him. Squaring her shoulders, she went on, “I wanted to be the perfect girlfriend, the perfect fiancée, an ideal wife. With every relationship, I moulded myself to what I thought the guy wanted me to be. I’ve organized dinner parties and believe me, I hate cooking. I’ve been to cricket games when I don’t even understand the scoring.”
“Well if it’s any consolation, very few people do. Cricket is a game you only understand if you actually play it.”
“The point is,” Her eyes flicked to his then away. “I put all my effort into being someone else’s other half, and when he left me, I suddenly didn’t know who I was any more. Years and years I wasted trying to please a series of would-be husbands before it finally dawned on me that I’m not made for marriage.”
Far be it for him to argue in favour of marriage, but surely she was too young to give up. She was sweet and bright, not to mention beautiful; he hated to think of her condemning herself to a life without love. “Don’t throw in the towel just yet. The right man could be round the corner.”
She shook her head. “The only thing that’s round the corner is another disappointment. Each break-up took a chunk out of me. I really don’t think I have another engagement in me. There comes a point where you have to look after yourself. So…”
She finally smiled, and her eyes did that thing, like a small flame suddenly leaping to life.
“I’m not going to wait for a man to choose me. I’m choosing to focus on myself, my career. No more relationships.”
He understood her far better than she could ever imagine. The desire to make yourself the perfect partner. The times he thought he’d been doing the right thing, the best thing, and his good intentions had all backfired so catastrophically. Back-firing good intentions was his speciality.
He backed away from the thoughts and tried to focus on her smiling face, on the lively spark in her dark brown eyes.
“So you’re going to be a nun?” He smirked.
“I didn’t say celibate, just single. Any…erm… liaisons, would be strictly casual and very short.”
Well, shit!
In a good way.
He’d got her number completely wrong. All that time he thought her desperate for a serious boyfriend. He really was the worst judge of character there ever was.
So she was casual?
A heaviness melted from the room and was replaced by fresh air. He felt reckless and the slow, simmering attraction he’d been trying to fight off for weeks, suddenly came out of the shadows and waved its arms around.
She likes you too, the reckless part of his mind said.
When he’d grabbed her arm earlier, she hadn’t pulled it away.
She was still sitting beside him on the sofa.
He reached over and ran his fingers through her hair, it was silky and thick and soft. “I think you’d make a very beautiful nun.”
They seemed to be sitting a lot closer to each other all of a sudden. Had he moved or had she?
Did it matter? He ruffled her hair; he couldn’t seem to stop playing with it. And then he leaned closer until he could almost touch her cheek with is lips. A moment he hovered like that, barely a breath between them. Then he tilted his head to place a soft kiss on the corner of her mouth.
She tasted of the plum wine, and of warmth and softness and freshness.
God. He hadn’t kissed a woman in so long. So, so, long.
“It’s really bad manners to snog in someone else’s house,” she whispered when they broke apart some time later.
The quaver in her voice told him she was as affected as he was, and that thought nearly undid him. Somehow, she seemed to be on his lap; had he pulled her there?
“Sorry, I lost myself for a minute.”
