‘And you were right. He’s decided to retire. He’s going to ring you, obviously, but he said as I was his partner, he owed it to me to tell me first. They’re going to spend their winters in Switzerland and their summers here.’ She picked up the fork and then gave up the pretence of eating and put it straight down again. ‘As I said, you were right.’
Sam struggled with disappointment. For a wild moment he’d kidded himself that she looked so down because she was in love with him and trying to work out how to tell him. Clearly he couldn’t have been more wrong. She was worrying about her work. Her future.
Deflated, he suddenly felt angry. He wanted her to suffer as he was suffering and clearly she wasn’t. He scowled. ‘You knew that would happen.’
She looked at him, startled, and he realised that his tone had probably been a little too sharp in the circumstances, but he was chewed up inside and she hadn’t even noticed.
‘Now you’re the one in the funny mood.’ She tilted her head to one side and studied him and he shifted uncomfortably.
Would she see? Was it written all over his face?
He didn’t dare risk it. He didn’t know if he could hide his feelings because he’d never had those feelings for anyone before, let alone had to hide them.
He stood up. ‘I’ll get pudding.’
She stared at the heaped plates. ‘We haven’t finished the lasagne.’
‘Do you want more?’
She shook her head. ‘No. I don’t feel like it. Perhaps it’s just too hot to eat.’
‘I’ll make coffee.’
He clattered around in the kitchen, venting his temper on the plates. She hadn’t even mentioned him leaving. It obviously didn’t bother her at all.
The irony of the situation wasn’t lost on him.
How many times had he had relationships which he’d ended without a second thought, knowing that the woman in question was becoming too involved? And now here he was in that very same situation himself. He was in love with a woman who had no interest in a relationship with him. She was thinking about the practice.
‘I’ve been thinking.’ She stood in the doorway, her white strap top showing smooth brown arms and a tempting amount of cleavage. ‘Would you help me interview for the new partner?’
He dropped the plate he was holding. ‘Sorry. Clumsy.’ He stooped and carefully picked up the shattered remains of the plate.
‘It’s just that you’ll be going soon,’ she said casually, still leaning against the door-frame, ‘and I want to get a new partner as soon as possible.’
O
f course she did. Anna the planner.
She couldn’t wait to get rid of him.
He dropped the pieces into the bin and looked at her, his face blank of expression. ‘If you place the advert, I’ll help you interview.’
She smiled brightly. ‘Great. We need to choose really carefully. Make sure the person is going to be happy living in such a small community. Probably have to be someone who loves the sea.’
Sam felt as though she’d punched him.
She didn’t want him.
Fine.
He’d just have to learn to live without her.
She didn’t know what was the matter with Sam but he was permanently in a foul mood.
And she was gutted that he hadn’t offered to stay when she’d talked about interviewing a partner.
Which was utterly ridiculous, she told herself firmly, because she’d always known that he wouldn’t stay. His life was in London. Why should he change his whole life just because of a little hot sex? She should have known better.