In Need of a Wife

Once in the car, Sasha decided talk was the only way to ward off the animal magnetism that was gathering force by the second. Silence definitely had the effect of feeding it.

‘Tell me about the people I’m going to meet at the party,’ she said brightly.

Nathan was slow to answer. Sasha surmised that it was taking him a few moments to concentrate his mind. ‘Judges, lawyers, layabouts, the rich, the poor, the famous, the infamous. They’ll all be there. A cross section of society.’

It was a very general reply. Sasha had meant him to be more specific with names and character sketches. ‘I thought you didn’t like judges,’ she remarked.

‘On a continuing downward spiral,’ he replied with feeling. ‘There’s not one of them, not one, who would find in my favour to break the contract with Urszula Budna. They were unanimously unhelpful. I know, because I checked them all.’

‘You can’t do that! Trying to solicit favours from judges!’

‘Desperation,’ he agreed. ‘Anyway, it didn’t work. Not one of them could find a loophole anywhere.’

So the marriage was inevitable.

Depression closed around Sasha’s heart. She felt sorry for Nathan, sorry for herself, sorry for the shutting off of what might have been possible between them. A sense of futility in the evening ahead of them stirred a surge of rebellion. None of this was her fault. She had to get on with her own life.

‘I have no sympathy for the mess you’ve got yourself into, Nathan. Self-inflicted,’ she tartly reminded him. ‘And I’m not going to carry a long face around with me all night. I’m going to enjoy myself.’

‘If the primary function of a young woman is to leave a trail of devastated male hearts in her wake, you should enjoy yourself. Immensely,’ he said with a touch of heavy irony.

‘Enjoy myself I will, but not at the expense of others.’

Apparently he had no comeback to that. Sasha could feel him looking at her, willing her to look at him, but she kept her gaze fixed on the traffic ahead.

‘I think it’s the love in your heart that puts the bloom in your cheeks, the light in your eyes. It irradiates your person, Sasha, giving you a beauty that—’

‘Please stop this nonsense.’

‘I don’t mind admitting I’m falling in love with you. What’s your problem?’

Urszula Budna, Sasha thought savagely, but she wasn’t about to admit anything. In the circumstances, any admission would not lead anywhere good. ‘This is the most useless conversation I’ve ever had. I’d rather talk about the weather.’

Nathan lapsed into silence, obviously declining to wax lyrical about the weather although it was the kind of night made for lovers. Sasha was acutely aware of that when they reached their destination and she stepped out of the car. A full moon was rising. It was a cloudless starry sky. The air was warm and balmy with the sensual pleasure of a feathering breeze off the harbour.

They hadn’t travelled far. Sasha was not surprised to find that Nathan’s paternal judge lived in what could only be called a stately home. Like Seagrave Dunworthy’s mansion, and Hester Wingate’s luxurious Mediterranean-style villa, it stood on a large chunk of prime real estate which had been moulded by expert gardeners into a splendid setting. It was nothing more than another extraordinary part of Nathan Parnell’s extraordinary life, Sasha thought flippantly, refusing to be impressed.

There was even a parking attendant to remove and take care of the BMW. That was indicative of what was to come. Sasha held her head high as Nathan escorted her inside. Nothing and no one was going to intimidate her tonight. She was as good as anyone else and a darned sight better than some.

Her confidence was given a boost by their host’s reception. The venerable judge was well into his sixties but there was nothing jaded about his appreciation of Sasha. Having warmly welcomed her, he raised enquiring eyebrows at Nathan.

‘I had an idea that might help.’

‘Yes?’ Nathan encouraged.

‘Change your religion. Become a Mormon.’

Having delivered this opinion, the judge turned to gr

eet other incoming guests.

Nathan looked quizzically at Sasha. ‘That might solve the problem.’

‘If you can find a woman who won’t mind sharing a husband,’ Sasha remarked sweetly, ‘you’re welcome to her.’

‘I thought as much,’ Nathan muttered darkly. ‘You’re not at all helpful.’

That was the limit of their private conversation. Nathan was hailed by friends and they were quickly drawn into a congenial group of people. Most of the introductions floated into Sasha’s ears and out again. Too many names to remember. She was met with speculative interest, of one kind or another, from both men and women.