Marsha’s a sensuous purr, and Dick’s after his initial surprise at hearing that Marsha and
Lucas, the flirtatious woman and the grim-faced man, were husband and wife, was cautiously
warm; he kept a wary eye on the other man’s face with its stony expression and hooded grey
eyes. He obviously didn’t know what to make of the oddly matched pair, and Christi took pity on
him and suggested they had better leave now or they would be late for dinner.
She cast one last anxious glance at Lucas as the lift doors closed behind her and Dick,
her heart twisting at how bleak he looked.
‘What a strange couple,’ Dick remarked dazedly at her side.
Christi’s mouth tightened. ‘They’re divorced,’ she snapped.
‘Oh!’ he said with some relief. ‘Oh,’ he repeated again in soft speculation.
‘And yes, Marsha is very available, in case you’re interested,’ she told him sharply,
marching out of the building to come to a halt on the edge of the pavement. She was shaking
with anger, and drew in a deep, steadying breath to calm herself.
Dick caught up with her in a couple of strides; he seemed surprised by her outburst,
and looked at her enquiringly.
‘I’m sorry.’ She gave a rueful grimace. ‘Marsha doesn’t bring out the best in me, and—
well, I did warn you it had been a bad day.’ And it was getting worse by the moment! Dick couldn’t
be blamed for finding Marsha attractive, especially after the woman had come on to him as
strongly as she had. At the time, it had just seemed to her that Marsha was to blame for the
fact that Lucas wasn’t able to fall in love again, and that the man Christi did have interested in her
was also succumbing to the other woman’s undoubted sensual attraction. In that moment, it
had just seemed too much! ‘Although that’s no reason to behave like a shrew,’ she apologised
again.
This time, instead of feeling annoyance when Dick mentioned Dizzy, Christi felt
relieved to be on neutral ground, relaxing slowly on the drive to the restaurant as they
discussed the success of Dizzy’s illustrations. The most recent publication to come out with
one of her illustrations was a Claudia Laurence book, one of the most successful ever.
Not many people realised it, but Christi’s uncle Zach was, in fact, Claudia Laurence, the
author of those ‘hot’ historicals that always had the public clamouring for more. Christi herself had
found out quite by accident, shocked to learn that the man she had once termed ‘fusty and dusty’
wrote those enjoyable adventurous romps. As Dizzy’s agent, Dick was also in on the secret,
and they both relaxed as they discussed the books.
Her uncle’s secret was one she hadn’t even told Lucas, knowing how sensitive her uncle
was about the subject, for his career as a professor of history was just as important to him.
It wasn’t that she thought Lucas would tell anyone else, it was just that—well, it wasn’t her
secret to tell. Maybe if he had been able to love her ...
‘Is there anyone there?’ Dick spoke in a ghostly voice.
Christi blinked at him in surprise, having been completely unaware of her surroundings;
the exclusive restaurant, and Dick, had faded from her mind as her thoughts had once again
dwelled on Lucas.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she apologised again. ‘I’m afraid I’m not very good company tonight,’
she added with embarrassment.
‘That’s all right,’ he accepted ruefully. ‘I guess my conversation must have been boring for
you.’
She had no idea what the conversation had been about! But Dick didn’t seem about to
go over it again, suggesting they order their meal instead.
Christi felt terrible about her inattentiveness, putting Lucas—and what Marsha could
possibly want to see him about—firmly from her mind, and concentrating on being charming to
Dick.
Nevertheless, it wasn’t the most successful evening she had ever had, and as Dick
kissed her briefly at her door, obviously waiting for an invitation to come in, she knew it would
be kinder not to encourage him any further. He was a nice enough man, but he certainly wasn’t
going to be the one to supplant Lucas in her heart!
‘No?’ he realised gently.
Christi gave a shaky smile. ‘I am sorry ‘ She was silenced by his fingertips over her lips.
‘It was a nice evening,’ he smiled. ‘I enjoyed your company—I’m not so sure you were
actually with me most of the evening,’ he teased without rancour, ‘but it was a pleasant time.’
Pleasant. It wasn’t much of a eulogy. She had to face it: as a return to the dating scene,
it had been a disaster! She was shaking her head as she walked aimlessly around her
apartment, filled with a restlessness that wouldn’t be satisfied until she had spoken to
Lucas again. But she couldn ’t go knocking on his door at eleven-thirty at night! Damn it, why
couldn’t she? They were friends, at least, and friends cared about each other, and he had
looked awful when she saw him earlier with Marsha. He could even be ill. Or.. .
Why bother to search for excuses? She had to talk to him, and that was all there was to
it! Christi was encouraged by the fact that she could hear music playing softly inside the apartment
next to hers, and hesitated only briefly outside the door as the possibility that he wasn’t
alone passed through her mind. She would take that risk; he could only ask her to wait until
tomorrow before talking to him.
She knew she had been right to come when she saw how haggard he looked when he
opened the door to her ring, his dark hair looking as if he had been running agitated fingers
through it for most of the evening, his face pale, his pale grey shirt partly unbuttoned down
his chest to reveal the start of the dark hair that grew there, a glass of whisky held in his hand.
It was the latter that told her how disturbed he was; Lucas never drank alcohol, and only ever
kept a supply in for guests.
She shifted uncomfortably on his doorstep as he looked at her with narrowed eyes. ‘I—er—I
thought I would come and tell you how my evening went.’ It was positively the last thing she
had meant to say, but suddenly she had felt as if she were intruding on something he
didn’t want to talk about just now. ‘You did say you would like a report on each of my dates,’
she added lamely as he continued to look at her.
To her relief, he relaxed slightly, a faint glimmer of amusement darkening his eyes as
he held the door wider for her to enter.
The lounge was in shadows, with only a small table-lamp for illumination, the Kenny Rogers
cassette she had bought him last Christmas playing softly in the background. Christi
turned awkwardly to face Lucas, feeling as if she had walked in on something very private.
What had Marsha wanted to talk to him about tonight?
‘No Michelle tonight?’ she enquired lightly as she sat down in one of the comfortable brown
leather armchairs, the room completely masculine, the décor brown and cream, the furniture
heavy and attractive.
‘No,’ he drawled, his voice gruff, as if the unaccustomed raw alcohol had burned his throat
on its way down. ‘I didn’t think it fair to inflict my company on anyone tonight,’ he added
ruefully, taking another drink of the whisky as he dropped down on to the sofa, his long legs
stretched out in front of him.
Maybe she should have had the same fore thought, and not ruined Dick Crosby’s
evening for him! Dizzy was sure to telephone for a full report tomorrow, and she wasn’t going to
be too happy with what she was told.
Strange, she and Dizzy were closer than sisters, and yet she had never told her friend
of her love for Lucas, had never told anyone. God knew what Dizzy would do if she knew it was
Lucas she loved! Christi thought disgustedly.
But, right now, dealing with Lucas’s depressed mood, a mood she had never seen him
in before in all the years she had known him, was what was important to her. Lucas’s
happiness would always be important to her.
‘So,’ he spoke briskly, ‘was he the one?’ He looked at her interestedly, amusement
darkening his eyes.
Christi relaxed slightly at his teasing. ‘No,’ she answered without hesitation.
‘Oh!’ Lucas looked surprised. ‘He seemed a nice enough chap to me.’
‘He was,’ she nodded. ‘But he wasn’t for me.’ You’re the man for me, she cried inside,
wishing—oh, God, wishing he could see her as more than a young sister, or, even worse,
someone he treated as being on the same age level as his two children! Much as she liked
Robin and Daisy, her feelings towards them weren’t sibling, but more maternal. She longed to
be their stepmother, to perhaps give Lucas other children. ‘Crying for the moon,’ her mother
would probably have told her gently, her face softened with love.
Lucas sipped his whisky again. ‘How could you tell after just one date? Love doesn’t always
hit you between the eyes like a fist, you know. Sometimes it takes time to develop and grow.’ He
relaxed back against the sofa, watching her beneath heavy lids.
But sometimes it did hit you like that fist, and when it did it was the hardest thing in
the world to live without! ‘Love doesn’t,’ she acknowledged with a nod.