Memoirs of a Millionaire's Mistress - Page 57

It would be best all round if he stayed away today, he thought as he cleared away reminders of last night in the kitchen. He was still holding the candlesticks and wondering what he could do about the roses when Didi put in her appearance.

‘Morning.’ Her voice betrayed little of the emotion he’d seen last night. Tight, polite. Civilised. As if they were strangers.

And she had to work bloody hard at it, he thought. Her lips were a thin slash in a white face, her eyes shaded by her pink-tinted glasses.

Because everything looks rosy on the greyest of days. Even you.

‘Good morning.’ His own voice, tight and formal. He set the candlesticks on the kitchen bench with exaggerated control.

He must remember: James O’Flanagan’s daughter. She needs a career boost, she doesn’t need you.

She took juice from the fridge, poured herself a glass. ‘I’m packing my stuff. Is it okay to store what I don’t need here until I can make other arrangements?’

‘Fine.’

‘And my Temptation piece, you will make sure it comes back safely, won’t you.’

Ah-h-h…‘Didi…Temptation was sold last night.’

She spun around, her eyes flashing fire. ‘It was not for sale.’

‘I’m sorry. The gallery assistant didn’t know. It fetched a tidy sum of money.’ And named a five-figure sum.

‘Money had nothing to do with it.’ But her voice calmed some and he could see her working the figure through and coming up with Wow. Still, she said, ‘You had no right. No right at all, to let that happen.’

‘The gallery’s profits from the sale will go towards a good cause.’ He turned away, busied himself wiping down the kitchen sink while he let her think about that. ‘I’ll be out of your way most of the day so you can take your time.’

‘You will be home this evening, won’t you?’

He turned back to see her eyes dart to his then away. Wary or concerned? Or something else…

‘I can be,’ he said, cautious. ‘Why?’

She lifted a shoulder, taking an interest in the bottom of her glass. ‘It’s just I’ve got that free candlelight dinner. We may as well use it before I go. The table’s booked for seven p.m. I’ll be busy till then so I’ll meet you there.’

Part of him wanted to leap at a second chance, another part warned him that leaping into anything remotely connected with Didi was very unwise at this juncture. He stayed where he was. ‘I’d like that.’ It was too easy to step closer, to breathe her in. ‘We don’t have to be strangers.’ Friends. Only friends.

She rinsed her glass, busied herself drying it. ‘Give me a call when you’re in town, then.’

‘In town?’

‘I’m going home. To Sydney.’

It shouldn’t hurt. He shouldn’t feel as if he’d been sliced and diced. She was cutting ties, not flesh. An hour’s flight away.

A world away.

‘Didi, your art, the gallery…’ Me.

She put the glass away, folded the tea towel precisely and hung it on the rail. ‘The beauty of what I do is I can work anywhere. I’ll continue to display my work in your gallery, if you want it.’

‘Of course I do.’

She turned around, her back against the sink, hands spread either side along the counter top—the counter top where they’d shared that first skyscraper-demolishing kiss. Her eyes met Cam’s and they were clear and direct for the first time this morning. ‘It’s time to talk with my parents. We have issues to resolve…I’ll be staying with them a while.’

‘You didn’t tell me who your father is.’ He could hear the accusation behind his own casually spoken words.

‘No.’ And her voice revealed her own surprise that he knew.

‘I heard it mentioned. Last night.’

She nodded slowly and those clear eyes pierced his, searched his. Challenged his. ‘I guess we both have our secrets, Cameron Black.’

Then she walked away and he had no choice—no bloody choice—but to let her go.

Didi packed what she needed to take to Sydney. The rest she put into boxes and stored them where Cameron had put them before she’d arrived here. When she was done, she rang Amy and arranged to meet her at the Candle-side restaurant at six forty-five p.m. Then she let herself out of the apartment and walked. Anywhere. Everywhere. Until it was time to play the last scene.

When Cam arrived home to dress for dinner he found the place empty. Since she’d told him she’d meet him at the restaurant, he showered, dressed and arrived at precisely seven p.m.

As he stepped inside candles of every colour, size and shape imaginable illuminated the restaurant, giving it a cosy ambience. He didn’t see Didi.

Tags: Anne Oliver Billionaire Romance
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