Merger By Matrimony

‘I think everyone in the place noticed Stephanie when she walked in five minutes after everyone was seated. Must have been a bit embarrassing arriving on time with her chap, to find that she hadn’t arrived yet…’

‘Actually, Henri’s staying with me,’ Destiny said reluctantly. ‘He works with me in Panama and I invited him over for a few days.’

‘Oh. I get the picture. Bad luck for you. He seemed besotted with my ex—and, of course, he left with her during the interval, didn’t he?’

‘Were you spying on us?’ Destiny asked abruptly. ‘If you’re still that obsessed with Stephanie, then I suggest you tell her—because you might find that someone else is around to pick up the pieces!’

‘I wasn’t spying on you and, believe me, you couldn’t be further from the truth as far as my feelings for Stephanie go. I’m more than happy that someone will pick up the pieces—not that there are any pieces to pick up. I’m just sorry that the man in question happens to be your man.’

‘Henri is not my man! He’s a friend! Some of us do have friends of the opposite sex, in case you hadn’t noticed!’

‘A very good friend, from the looks of it…’

‘So you were spying on us!’

‘I happened to see you at the start of the play and naturally I found myself glancing over every so often!’

‘Who were you there with, anyway?’ Destiny asked suspiciously.

‘Office people. Finished eating?’ He cleared away the table and had to deliver a stern lecture to himself to lighten up. Hadn’t she told him what he had already known? That the wimp with the spectacles was nothing more than a friend? Yes. Then why did he still feel jealous? Course, he knew why. He felt jealous because she had admitted that he was a good friend, and now his head was rife with images of them sharing long, intimate conversations, the likes of which she would never share with him because she viewed everything he said and did with a liberal pinch of suspicion.

‘No dessert,’ he said brusquely. ‘Sorry.’

‘I’ll help you wash up.’

‘Don’t bother.’

‘It’s no bother.’ She came to the kitchen sink and stood next to him, waiting till he filled a bowl with warm, soapy water. His kitchen overlooked a private back garden, now wreathed in darkness. It was far more private than where she was living but, on the other hand, it was also further out of central London, which was much nicer, she thought. Quieter, less frantic. Large French doors led out of the kitchen into the back garden, so that there was an impression of airiness about the room.

‘You don’t expect me to believe that you and this…man…are…were…just good friends, do you? Despite what you say about having friends of the opposite sex, you’re a big girl. You must know that such a thing doesn’t exist.’ Instead of washing, he plunged both his hands into the soapy water and stared at the distorted image they created.

He shouldn’t be pursuing this. He knew that she wasn’t involved with the man sexually. Dammit, he had eyes in his head and had seen all the signs for himself, but he wanted to hear her say that Henri meant nothing to her. He wanted to be told that he was more interesting, more engaging than his bespectacled and unknowing rival.

Destiny didn’t say anything and he turned to look at her, wondering whether she’d even heard what he’d asked. He found her looking right back at him, her green eyes curious and comprehending.

‘Are you jealous of Henri?’ she asked in a faltering voice, at which he forced a bark of laughter out.

‘Me? Jealous? I’ve never been jealous of anyone in my entire life and I certainly don’t intend to start now!’

The blue eyes that met hers were fiercely proud, but she knew. She knew that he had been jealous, even if his jealousy was only based on the sheer egotistical physical grounds of not liking the idea that someone else might have touched her when he was still interested, and the knowledge made her heart flutter wildly inside her.

She wanted to tell him that there was no need, that she’d only ever loved one man and that was him. The admission whipped the breath from her throat and she stared back glassily at him, her lips slightly apart. She turned away, but not before he’d seen that brief flash of hunger that mirrored his own.

‘Does it make you feel good?’ he taunted softly. ‘That a big, strong man like me might be reduced to a pitiful emotion like jealousy?’ He lifted one hand out of the water and swung her head to face him. One side of her face was now wet and slippery.

‘Yes,’ she threw back honestly. ‘It makes me feel good.’