Picking up the Pieces. Caroline Anderson
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to enlarge on that, though. It was all too fresh, too raw. He turned the conversation back to her.
‘Anyone special in your life? Anybody you love?’
She thought of Simon. She had loved him once, or so she thought, but not now, and maybe not ever. She shook her head. ‘No, no one special. No one at all, actually.’ Her smile was wistful, and covered a wealth of loneliness. ‘How about you?’
Only Tim, he thought, but she didn’t mean that, and, if he wasn’t ready to talk about Jennifer, he certainly wasn’t ready to talk about his son. ‘No. I am, as they say, footloose and fancy free.’
‘The perennial bachelor,’ she teased, and he smiled slightly.
‘Sort of. Are you doing anything tonight?’
‘No-why?’
‘Come out for dinner.’
She shook her head. ‘I don’t think so, Nick.’
‘No strings, I promise.’
‘No goodnight kiss?’
There was a long pause that zinged with tension, and then his mouth twisted into that one-sided grin that melted all her resolve.
‘Maybe just a little one.’
‘And then another, and another, and before you know it —’
‘No kiss, then.’
‘Promise?’
His eyes softened with rueful humour. ‘I promise.’
‘Seven, then. I don’t want to be late tonight, I’ve got a busy day tomorrow — family lunch.’
‘That’s fine, I could do with an early night myself. I’ll pick you up.’
He stood up, and she unwound her legs and slid off the bed. ‘Er — how dressy? Like, jeans, ball gown — which?’
‘Is that the choice?’
His grin was infectious. ‘I do have one or two things in between,’ she told him with heavy irony.
He paused, then shot her a keen look. ‘Do you like dancing?’
‘Dancing?’
‘Yes — you know, jiggling about to music —’
‘OK, OK — yes, I love dancing!’
‘Good. We’ll go dancing. Wear something —’ he waved his hands expansively ‘— dressy and appropriate.’
‘Dressy — appropriate — right. OK, out. If you’re taking me dancing, I need time to prepare.’
He grinned and winked. ‘I can hardly wait.’
Cassie’s heart was thudding and her palms felt clammy by seven o’clock. She had dragged the entire contents of her wardrobe out and ferreted through them in growling desperation. The only thing — absolutely the only thing she could possibly look right in for what Nick had in mind was practically topless and virtually bottomless as well.
Black, tight, the ruched satin bodice miraculously clinging to her slight breasts and hugging her ribs and waist, the skirt full from the hip and outrageously short, it was sexy, fun, provocative and totally over the top.
It was also the only thing in her wardrobe other than black leggings and a sequin-studded camisole that was remotely dressy, and she hardly ever got the chance to wear it.
She found a soft black wool shawl that covered her almost completely, and draped it round her shoulders.
Instantly better. With the spangled tights and the high, strappy sandals she felt ready to dance the night away, and that was just what she was going to do!
She was just doing a last twirl in front of the mirror when she heard a firm stride stop at her door, and then a sharp knock.
She opened the door, and totally forgot her nerves.
He looked stunning. She had thought he was attractive tired and rumpled at the end of a long night’s operating — like this, freshly showered and shaved, with a sparkling white shirt, silk bowtie and dinner suit, he was devastating.
He was also standing in her doorway with his mouth hanging slightly open — much like hers.
She collected herself and found a smile, suddenly shy. ‘Come in.’
‘Ah — um …’He cleared his throat and met her eyes again. ‘You look…’ He shook his head slowly. ‘Are you ready?’
She nodded.
‘Come on, then, I’ve got a taxi outside.’
His hand on the small of her back was firm and warm, and he didn’t remove it until he opened the car door and ushered her in.
They went to a club she had never been to, but Nick was clearly known. The woman behind the desk almost oozed over the top.
‘Hello, there. Long time no see. Thought you’d deserted us.’
‘Would I, Janet?’ he said lightly, and placing his hand firmly in the small of Cassie’s back again, he guided her towards the restaurant.
‘Nick — good to see you again. How was Suffolk?’
‘Fine — Carlo, this is Cassie Blake. She’s very special. I hope you’ve saved us somewhere romantic.’
Carlo winked at her. ‘Always the romantic — you known this guy long?’
She smiled self-consciously. ‘Twenty-four hours?’
‘Ah — love at first sight! For you, I have the best table…’
It was, indeed, wonderfully romantic, screened by lush plants and bathed in soft music. Although it was still very early by London standards, it was already busy, but tucked away in their leafy nook they could have been quite alone.
They ate, and drank, and talked softly, though what food and drink and words crossed her lips Cassie couldn’t say. She was totally absorbed in Nick, to the exclusion of anything and everything else.
And later, when the tempo changed and the music grew lively, he led her on to the dance-floor and they danced for hours.
He was incredible, but so easy to dance with. His movements were fluid, his body graceful, but always in tune with hers, sometimes leading, sometimes following, always together. It was like being in Theatre with him, she thought, perfectly attuned, anticipating each other as if they had danced together for years.
After a few dances the band struck up a rock ‘n’ roll number, and Nick pulled her close. ‘Can you jive?’ he asked.
She laughed in delight. ‘Can a bird fly?’
He kissed her briefly and then threw her out to the end of his arm, reeling her in again and twirling her under before turning her to face him.
She matched him move for move, and, as his steps grew more complicated and daring, so she kept up without missing a beat.
As the dance finished he pulled her close and kissed her soundly. ‘You’re fantastic!’ he laughed breathlessly. ‘Oh, Cass…’
They jived again and again, and then when the tempo slowed they came together, swaying gently in each other’s arms, trapped by the spell of the music and the magic they found in each other’s eyes.
At last he led her back to their table and asked Carlo to call them a taxi.
‘You wanted an early night,’ he said apologetically.
She realised with amazement that it was almost three o’clock, but she didn’t care.
‘It doesn’t matter,’ she said softly, and there were stars in her eyes.
‘Cassie…’
He