Love Affairs. Louise Allen
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for what it’s worth, I won’t change my mind. Ever. I’m not in the market, Kate, so you’re wasting your time with me.’
She smiled ruefully. ‘Shame. We could have had fun. Well, if you do change your mind, you know where to find me.’
Did she have no pride?
He went back to work, the word ‘babysitter’ echoing in his head. Funny. She hadn’t mentioned a child. Family, yes, but a child? Not that it changed anything, not for this evening. Or any other evening. He wasn’t going there, he reminded himself firmly. Tonight was a definite one-off.
He grabbed the little mid-afternoon lull and went out of the door to call his grandmother. ‘Hi, Marnie. How are you doing?’
‘OK. What’s wrong? You don’t usually ring during the day.’
‘I wanted to ask you a favour. We’ve been given tickets to the theatre tonight by a patient. I just wondered if you could cope without me this evening if I went.’
‘Of course I can cope. You go and have a lovely time. Are you going with anyone nice?’
He laughed softly. ‘I’m going with a colleague. We were both working on the case.’
‘Well, have fun with her.’
Her? Damn her razor-sharp intuition. He could challenge her but that would draw attention to it, so he changed the subject. ‘How’s he been today? Are you sure you can get him to bed all right on your own? Mum and Dad should be around if not.’
‘Of course I can do it. As you said, your parents are around if I run into difficulties.’
Although they both knew she wouldn’t call them unless there was an out and out crisis. And he could see where they were coming from, how emotionally distressing his father found it, but—
‘Are you sure?’
‘Of course I’m sure. You go out and have a lovely time, but I expect you to tell me all about it.’
He chuckled. ‘OK, will do. I’ll see you later. Call if you need me, I’ll have my phone on silent but I’ll feel it ring and I can always leave. It won’t be too late, anyway.’
‘I won’t need you. You go and have fun. Love you, darling.’
‘Love you, too. I’ll see you later.’
He hung up and turned round, to find Annie watching him thoughtfully.
‘I thought you said you were single?’
He blinked. ‘I am. That was my grandmother.’
‘Oh.’ She coloured slightly and waved a hand. ‘Sorry. I’m a bit, um...’
‘Suspicious?’
‘Sorry,’ she said again. ‘It’s a habit.’
He nodded, then said casually, ‘So did you get your babysitter sorted out?’
She stiffened, her eyes widening briefly with alarm, and then she frowned. ‘How...?’
‘Kate,’ he told her, although he didn’t tell her what else Kate had said in the process of eliminating the competition.
She rolled her eyes. ‘Of course. Silly me.’ She gave a wry laugh but she didn’t look pleased and so he didn’t pursue it. Her dependants were none of his business.
‘So—did you sort it?’ he asked again, and she nodded.
‘Yes. Yes, I did. It’s fine.’
‘Good. That means we’re both free. So, shall I pick you up at seven?’
Panic flared in her luminous blue eyes. ‘No. I’ll meet you there at a quarter past. It’s only a short walk from home and it’s a lovely day.’
And you don’t want to give me your address.
‘OK. I’ll be there at seven-fifteen, armed with the tickets. We can have a drink before the show. I’ll get them in ready. What would you like?’
‘Oh. Um—dry white wine?’
‘OK.’ He smiled at her, curious that she seemed suddenly flustered by the idea of the drink. ‘So—do you want me, or were you just eavesdropping?’
‘I want y—’ She broke off, and soft colour washed over her cheeks again as she registered what she was saying, but she held his eyes anyway and he suppressed a smile. ‘There’s a little girl I want you to look at,’ she amended.
‘OK. Lead me to her, and you can fill me in.’
* * *
This is not a date.
She stared blankly at the contents of her wardrobe, the words echoing in her head like a mantra.
So—what to wear, then? Jeans? Or smart-casual, which opened a whole new can of worms, because there was a huge range of options.
Who was she kidding? Her wardrobe was scanty, to say the least, and apart from work clothes she spent precious little on it because the budget just didn’t stretch to pretty stuff she never got to wear.
But there was one thing, a rich sapphire-blue maxi dress in soft jersey that she’d bought last summer that she could dress up or down, and she really, really didn’t want to wear jeans and a top again. She hardly ever went out. This was the first time in ages, and she knew it wasn’t a date, but there was no harm in looking nice, was there?
And at least it didn’t smell of coffee.
She put it on, ripped it off again and put a strappy white vest top on underneath, then pulled it on again and stood back. Better. Cleavage would send out a whole different message, one she wasn’t happy with—and just to be on the safe side, she was wearing a T-shirt bra with moulded cups so her nipples wouldn’t show if she got chilly. He’d seen quite enough of them today already.
She slid her feet into some pretty little flat pumps, pulled on a cardi, contemplated and dismissed a necklace and at the last minute spritzed herself with perfume.
It was evening, after all, and she couldn’t wear it at work, so why not? She checked her lippy, stood back for another look and then glanced at her watch.
Yikes. She was going to have to run.
‘Bye, Mum,’ she said, sticking her head round the door.
‘Bye, darling. You look lovely. Have a good time.’
‘Thanks, I will. Call if you need me, I’ve got my phone on silent. Got to dash.’
She grabbed her bag, debated a jacket and then went without it. No time to dither, no time to stroll there in a leisurely fashion, just a rapid walk that brought her up the steps to the Yoxburgh Playhouse at a hair past seven-fifteen.
She walked in, went up to the bar and he was standing there waiting for her, looking good enough to eat in a casual linen blazer, jeans and a blinding white shirt open at the neck to reveal that oh-so-masculine throat. He hadn’t shaved, and the dark shadow on his jaw just added to the tantalising aura of danger that surrounded him.
His smile made her heart trip faster.
‘Hi. Sorry I’m late.’
‘You’re not—well, only a few seconds. Here, have a drink.’
She took the glass, conscious of the fact that she was windswept, breathing hard and would probably start to glow like a beacon in a moment. ‘Thank you.’
‘My pleasure. You look lovely, by the way. Pretty dress.’
‘Thanks. I don’t really have a lot of choice, and it’s nice to have a chance to wear it.’
‘It suits you. That colour really works with your eyes.’
‘What, the shadows underneath?’
He