‘Fine,’ he smiled, ‘I’ll be there.’ Then he leant over the bar and kissed her on the lips. A quick, uncomplicated, innocent kiss, which left her dizzy. He took his drink and returned to Seamus.
‘I saw that,’ whispered Finula in her ear.
‘He didn’t mean anything by it, he’s just excited about Dylan winning the race,’ Megan said with ease, making light of it, even though her chest was thundering.
‘It was a warning to Nick,’ replied Finula. They were distracted by clapping when the screen showed a triumphant Dylan entering the winner’s enclosure. The buzz of excitement was palpable as Midas Touch was welcomed back by a cheering crowd, and at the front was Sean Fox. The TV presenter quickly ran to Dylan and lifted her microphone up to him.
‘That was a close shave, Dylan!’ Dylan gave a lazy smile: back was the assured, confident Romeo.
‘All in a day’s work. I knew Midas Touch could do it.’
‘Well, he certainly did. Congratulations! I take it you’ll be celebrating tonight?’
‘I think so.’ He winked, making the reporter weak at the knees.
Megan smiled to herself watching Dylan on the screen with his self-assured way.
‘Now what’s making you smile, Megan?’ Nick was back at the bar. ‘Not that kiss from his lordship, surely?’
‘I was smiling at Dylan, actually.’ Megan blushed slightly, feeling a touch defensive.
Then Nick leant forward over the bar and said in a low tone, ‘Don’t be taken in, Megan.’
‘Sorry?’
‘With Tobias. You look just like his dead girlfriend. He’s only after a substitute. You’re better than that and deserve so much more.’
Megan stared, dumbfounded. Nick patted her hand and walked away.
