To Love Again

together, probably been together again last night, too. Instead of that, they weren’t even talking to

each other.

Whoever would have thought she and Lucas would come to this? What had

possessed her to force that situation of the other night? Tears that had fallen all too readily over

the last two days began to roll down her cheeks again. Oh, Lucas! she cried inside as she

dropped down on one of the bar stools in her kitchen, the homely sound of the coffee

percolating not piercing her misery. How often she and Lucas had sat down and had coffee

together before he left to go to work, and how she had daydreamed, during those times, that

they were a happily married couple sharing breakfast together. Reality had intruded

when Lucas had stood up to kiss her paternally on the forehead, or, worse than that, had

ruffled her hair affectionately before picking up his briefcase and leaving.

Christi gave a startled jump as her doorbell rang, hastily brushing away her tears as she

went to greet the doorman with her mail.

But it was Lucas who stood on the doorstep, and she gazed up at him apprehensively.

Not that she was in the least self-conscious about having him see her in her short pink silk

nightshirt; she had breakfasted with him hundreds of times in the past wearing similar

night attire. It was having him treat her as a stranger that was going to be so unbearable.

‘Good morning, lazybones,’ he greeted with an indulgent grin, ruffling her hair

affectionately as he strode inside her apartment.

Christi followed him dazedly after closing the door behind him; this was no stranger, this

was the Lucas she had always known!

‘I was in my apartment working when I heard you moving about—at last!’ he rebuked

teasingly,grey eyes dark with affection. ‘I knew you would be putting coffee on, so I thought

I’d come over and share a cup with you.’ He strode into the kitchen with the ease of

familiarity, getting down the cups for their coffee. ‘I must say, you look a little hung-over

this morning, Christi.’ He handed her a cup of steaming coffee.

She looked hung-over? He was the one who had come home at three o’clock this morning!

Not that he looked any the worse for it; he was exuding good health and vitality, while she

Obviously what had happened between them the other evening certainly hadn’t kept him awake at

nights! Instead of feeling guilty about what had happened, Christi began to feel anger at

Lucas’s indifference. Didn’t the passion they had shared mean anything to him? Obviously not,

she decided indignantly.

Unless he just didn’t remember it? He had been drinking that evening, something he rarely

did, and maybe, just maybe But wasn’t that the classic excuse people used when something

had happened they would rather just forget, and didn’t know how else to achieve it? She looked

at Lucas suspiciously. Was that why he was behaving like his usual cheerful self this

morning, because he wanted her to think he didn’t even remember what had happened

between them the other night, because he wanted to forget the whole embarrassing

incident had happened? Or—and this seemed more like the Lucas she loved—was he trying to

save face for both of them, hoping that, if he behaved as if nothing had happened between

them, they would eventually both feel that nothing had happened? Christi would give anything

not to live through the mortification of the last two days again, and readily accepted that

Lucas thought the whole thing was best forgotten, grasping at the friendship he offered with

both hands.

At least, she took the coffee he held out to her with both hands, giving him a relieved

smile! He settled himself on one of her bar stools, facing out towards the kitchen, breathtakingly

attractive in the dark navy suit and snowy white shirt, his striped tie meticulously knotted

at his throat, his dark hair falling endearingly across his forehead.

‘So,’ he said lightly. ‘Did you go out last night?’ he asked interestedly.

‘No.’ She would have liked to ask him where he had been until three o’clock this morning

but, considering Michelle’s obvious beauty, and his continuing relationship with the other

woman, the answer to that was all too obvious. And painful. ‘I had a few chores to do,’

she dismissed shruggingly. ‘Did you have a pleasant evening?’ She looked at him

enquiringly.

‘Fine,’ he nodded. ‘How are the auditions going?’

She gave a rueful smile. ‘They aren’t.’ She sighed. ‘There are too many actresses and

not enough parts.’

‘Hm, it’s a pity the play had to close,’ he nodded thoughtfully.

They were talking as they usually did, and yet to Christi there was something missing. At first,

it was difficult to pinpoint, and then she knew it was the ease with which they were usually

together. Unless it was just her, because Lucas seemed just as relaxed as ever. Maybe he

really didn’t remember the other night? Wouldn’t he have mentioned it if he did remember, tried

to clear the air? She didn’t know any more, all she did know was that Lucas was her friend

again. She wasn’t about to risk that friendship a second time, even if being kissed by him

had been the most beautiful experience of her life!

‘—something to offer you,’ Lucas was saying as her thoughts came back to their

conversation. ‘Sorry?’ She gave a grimace of apology for her inattentiveness.

He gave a rueful smile. ‘I said, maybe Barry Robbins will have something he can offer

you,’ he suggested lightly.

Christi frowned. The other evening, Lucas had more or less warned her off the film

director, now he seemed to find nothing wrong in again suggesting she use the man’s connections

to get herself work. But if he didn’t remember what he had said the other night ... It was

becoming more and more obvious that he really didn’t.

Her mouth twisted. ‘I’m not sure I’m the type of material for Hollywood,’ she derided.

‘You’re certainly more beautiful than most of those so-called stars over there,’ Lucas

encouraged.

What was the good of being beautiful if that beauty didn’t appeal to the one man she

wanted it to? ‘Thank you, kind sir!’ She curtseyed in the above-knee-length nightshirt. ‘I’ll be

sure to tell Barry you said so,’ she teased, feeling more relaxed by the minute, knowing now

wasn’t the time to introduce the subject of Marsha’s visit the other night, and rekindle the discord.

Lucas stood up, glancing at his watch. ‘If the man can’t see that for himself, then

maybe he ought to give up film directing,’ he taunted. ‘I have an appointment in half an hour, so

I have to go now. Have a good time this evening,’ he called as he let himself out. ‘I’ll be in later

if you want to come and tell me all about your date.’

Christi rushed into the hallway just as the door closed firmly behind him. What had he

meant by that? Had it been the casual remark it had seemed—or something more? God, her whole

world seemed to have turned upside-down since Tuesday night, so that she didn’t know her right

from her left any more. She had thought she knew Lucas so well, now she wasn’t sure she

knew him at all.

If Dizzy had hoped to introduce her to the man she could fall in love with last weekend, all

she had done was cause more confusion! Barry Robbins was undoubtedly one of the most

handsome men Christi had ever met; slightly overlong blond hair that curled attractively

at his nape and ears, sexy blue eyes that left her in no doubt as to his appreciation of her own

looks, a tall, lithe body that could look as good in the casual clothes he had worn last weekend as

he did in the biscuit-coloured suit and pale cream shirt he wore tonight, the plain brown tie a

perfect complement to the more flamboyant suit.

And Englishman by birth, his years in America had given him a slight, and whol y

appealing, drawl to his accent, and Christi enjoyed just hearing him talk. Which was perhaps as

well, when she couldn’t find a lot to say herself! Barry had arrived exactly on time, refusing to

come in for a drink, taking her to dinner before going on to the stage musical she had been

meaning to go and see for months but which she hadn’t found the time to do when the play

she was in was showing at the same times.

They went to a quiet bar after the show, the first few minutes taken up with discussing

the merits of the performance. Usually vivacious, Christi found it heavy going after that; she

couldn’t help glancing at her watch, wondering if it would be too late to take Lucas up on his

invitation if she left now.

‘I thought you weren’t working at the moment,’ Barry finally remarked.

Christi blushed guiltily. ‘I’m not. I—I’m just a bit of a clock-watcher,’ she excused

lamely. ‘It comes from months of making sure I was always on time for a performance, I

expect.’ She gave a bright smile.

‘Yes,’ he chuckled knowingly. ‘I know I come to startled wakefulness for weeks after I’ve

finished making a film, wondering why no one has woken me up at the crack of dawn! The

stringent timek e e p i n g i s p a r t o f t h e b u s i n e s s , ’ h e s a i d understandingly.

Christi relaxed once again; the two of them had so much in common, after all. ‘You