The Blind-Date Bride. Emma Darcy
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‘Done!’ Pete agreed, grinning his head off.
No problem in his mind.
Zack relaxed. Let tonight take care of itself, he thought, having dealt himself a ready bolthole.
A blind date…
Catherine Trent gave her sister a look designed to kill the idea on the spot. Stone dead. This weekend with Livvy was a much needed time out from men—one in particular—and even being polite to any male at the moment would be an effort she didn’t want to make.
The look didn’t work. It spurred Livvy into attack mode, eyes flashing the light of battle. ‘You know your problem, Catherine? You’ve been fixated on Stuart Carstairs for so long, you’ve developed tunnel vision. Can’t even see other men could be more attractive. And a lot better for you, too.’
So find me one, Catherine thought derisively, having done her own looking each time Stuart had strayed, then forgiving him and taking him back because there simply wasn’t anyone else she wanted to be with. Compared to Stuart, other men were dull, but this last infidelity went beyond the bounds of acceptability. For him to snatch a bit of sex with a graphic artist in her own office, a woman who worked on the accounts she handled…that was too bitter a blow to her pride.
This had to be the end of their relationship. The final end. All the sexual charisma in the world didn’t make up for a long, continuing string of hurts, especially this worst one, right under her nose. It was time to let go, time to move on, but to what?
‘I’m not up to a blind date, Livvy,’ she said flatly.
‘Well, I’m not going to leave you here to mope alone,’ came the belligerent retort.
‘I won’t mope. I’ll watch videos.’
‘Wallowing in escapism. I’ll bet Stuart Carstairs isn’t. Good old action man will be unzipping his trousers for…’
‘Stop it!’
‘No, I won’t. He tried it on with me, too, you know. Your own sister.’
Shocked out of her irritation with Livvy’s unwelcome nagging, Catherine shot a sharp look at her sister, unsure if she was speaking the truth or wanting to blacken Stuart’s character beyond the pale. ‘You never told me that before.’
A fierce conviction blazed back at her. ‘I’m telling you now. Get rid of him. Get over him, Catherine. He might have the gift of the gab and he might be a great performer in bed, but he only ever thinks of himself. You’re an ego trip for him. And every time you take him back you feed his ego more. Holding on to him is sick.’
Catherine frowned over these discomforting assertions. Was it sick to keep wanting a man who couldn’t be trusted with other women? Stuart swore she was the only one who really counted in his life, but was that enough to hang on to? Obviously she couldn’t count too much when he was hot for someone else, even her own sister.
‘I won’t hold on this time,’ she muttered.
‘Then let me see you take some positive action in another direction. Like partnering this other guy tonight,’ Livvy strongly argued.
‘I’m not in the mood.’
‘You never are. Except for Stuart Carstairs who continually does the dirty on you. You’ve wasted four years on a dyed-in-the-wool philanderer and it’s only ever going to be more of the same, him having it off with whomever he fancies, while you…’
‘I told you it’s over.’
‘Until he soft soaps you again.’
‘No. I mean it.’
‘Fine! So you should be celebrating being free from him, giving yourself the chance to eye off someone else.’
She was just like her dog with a bone. Catherine looked down at the miniature fox terrier sitting by Livvy’s feet and was grateful he wasn’t yapping at her, too. She did need to be free of Stuart, but in her own mind and heart first. Plunging into dating would only throw up comparisons that would keep him painfully alive in her thoughts.
In fact, Livvy had just spoiled her attempt to forget him for a while. Here they were, seated on the balcony of her sister’s apartment, overlooking the Brisbane Water at Gosford, idly watching the boats sailing out from the yacht club, feeling pleasantly replete from a fine lunch at Iguana Joe’s, during which Livvy had raved about her wonderful new boyfriend, Peter Raynor. Why couldn’t she just be happy with her own personal life instead of attacking Catherine’s?
‘This guy has been a friend of Pete’s since school days. Now that tells you he values the people he likes. He’s not a user and a dumper,’ Livvy ran on, relentlessly intent on persuasion.
‘Friendship between two men has no relevance whatsoever to how either of them view or treat women,’ Catherine tersely commented, wanting an end to the argument.
‘Right! So now you’re cultivating a negative attitude. Not even giving people a chance. And I might add Pete treats me beautifully.’
‘Lucky you! But I don’t want to be stuck with a guy I don’t know and might not like.’
‘You like Pete. His friend should be at least an interesting person. The food at The Galley is always good. It’s my birthday, and the best birthday present you could give me is to see you enjoying yourself without Stuart Carstairs.’
‘I have been. With you. Before you started on this blind date kick,’ Catherine snapped in exasperation. ‘As for birthday gifts, I thought you liked the bracelet I bought you…’
‘I do.’
‘…and the lunch at the restaurant of your choice. Wasn’t that birthday treat enough for you?’
Livvy’s eloquent shrug was apologetic but it didn’t stop her from turning the screws. ‘I just hate going out and leaving you alone, knowing you’re miserable. I won’t be able to enjoy the evening with Pete if you don’t come with me.’
Emotional blackmail.
But there was caring behind it, Catherine grudgingly conceded, and she didn’t want to spoil any part of her younger sister’s birthday. Livvy had always been a pet, her naturally happy nature making her a pleasure to be with. Their parents were away on an overseas trip, touring Canada this time, so it was up to Catherine to make up for their not being here, showering love on their younger daughter. She thought she’d done enough but…would it really hurt to make the effort of being pleasant to a stranger tonight?
‘It would be such fun, dressing up together,’ Livvy pressed.
‘I didn’t bring dress-up clothes with me,’ Catherine remembered, not so much seeking an excuse but simply stating the truth.
‘You can try mine on.’ The eager offer was rushed out. ‘In fact, I’ve got a little black number that would look fantastic on you. It’s a jersey so it doesn’t matter you’re more curvy than me. It will stretch to fit.’
More curvy and taller. And their taste in clothes was different. Which was why they’d never swapped or borrowed. But what she wore tonight was not an issue, Catherine decided, as long as she pleased Livvy.
Twenty-nine today. Her little sister…who had her life more in order than Catherine had managed in her thirty-one years. Still, Livvy’s career in the public service carried minimal stress and steady promotion, given a reasonable level of performance. The advertising world was far more cut-throat and Catherine spent most of her working days living on the edge.
Different lives, different needs, different natures, different…even in looks.
Livvy’s hair had been very blond in her childhood and she’d kept it blond with the help of a good hair-dresser. She kept it short, too, its thick waves cleverly cut and styled to ripple attractively to just below her ears. Having inherited their father’s Nordic blue eyes and skin that tanned to