She’d been flattered by the way he’d set Kim straight about her status in his life. Holly had taken an instant dislike to the woman. Maybe because she was drop-dead gorgeous, one of those slim, cool blondes who always looked as if they’d just stepped out of a beauty salon.
But anyone with half a brain could see that Richard running into his wife’s best friend had thrown a dampener over proceedings.
His eyes, which had been bright and sparkly all day, were now the colour of a wintry lake under a cloudy sky. The muscles around his jaw looked stiff and his mouth was pressed into a thin, hard line.
He certainly hadn’t got over his wife. Not in the slightest. His mother had been right. Any last lingering hope that some miracle might happen and Richard might fall in love with her eventually went straight down the gurgler.
Holly’s dismay was acute, and telling. She was setting herself up for another personal disaster with this man. One far worse than Dave, because this time she was going into things with her eyes well and truly open.
Richard didn’t love her. He would never love her.
Face it, Holly, and deal with it.
Facing it was very depressing. Dealing with it quite impossible. Because she could not walk away from him. She loved him.
“Thank you for calling me your girlfriend,” she said, trying her best not to sound the way she was suddenly feeling.
“I would have preferred to say fiancée,” he returned.
She stared at him, then shook her head. “Please don’t.”
“Please don’t what?”
“Don’t keep on about that. I’m happy to be your girlfriend, Richard. But I won’t marry you.”
“You know, Holly, it’s only in the western culture that people marry for love. Romance is all very nice, but it’s not all that reliable. Look at our divorce rate. Most of those couples thought they were in love when they tied the knot. Being in love doesn’t last. Caring and commitment are what makes a marriage last. That, and common goals. And children. You want children, don’t you?”
“Yes, of course I do.”
“There is no of course about it. Some women these days don’t want children. And lots of men, according to the ladies from Wives Wanted. I will give you children, plus the security to raise them right. I will also give you caring and commitment. If this weekend is anything to go by you won’t have any complaints about our sex life, either. Our compatibility in bed is better than lots of people who are in love.”
Holly sighed. “That all sounds very reasonable, Richard, but you don’t love me. I’m all alone in the world. My parents are gone. So are my grandparents. I have an aunt in Melbourne I might have seen three times in my lifetime. And a gay uncle who moved to San Francisco when I was a teenager. That’s it. I have no family who loves me. I need to be loved by my husband.”
“That’s romantic ideology,” he said sharply. “What a wife and mother needs is a husband who can provide and protect you and yours. Who will always be faithful. Who will never deliberately hurt you or let you down. I will deliver all that, Holly. I give you my solemn word.”
His eyes bored into Holly’s, the passion in his voice making her doubt her resolve to resist his proposal. Maybe he was right. Maybe they could be happy together.
But then she remembered that photo of Joanna, which she had seen propped up against her coffin.
She would always be there, coming between them. The beautiful first wife. The love of Richard’s life.
“Just think about it,” he went on. “That’s all I ask.”
“All right,” she agreed, knowing she would probably think about little else.
“Shall we go?” he suggested.
“Why not?” They’d eaten most of their risotto and drunk all of the excellent bottle of white wine Richard had ordered with it.
Richard called for the bill.
Five minutes later they were strolling across the old iron bridge that took them to the other side of Darling Harbour, her hand enclosed tightly in Richard’s. They hadn’t spoken since they’d got up from the table.
“Would you like to go into the casino?” he asked.
“Would you?” she countered, glancing up at the Star City complex.
“Not particularly. I’m not a gambler. I have a bet on the Melbourne Cup each year but that’s about it.”
“I have a flutter on that as well. But I never win.”
He smiled. “Neither do I. What shall we do, then?”
“Whatever you like,” she returned, perhaps a little thoughtlessly. Her mind was just so full with tortured thoughts.
“Right. See that taxi rank over there? Let’s go!”