A Convenient Marriage. Maggie Cox

programme, feeling just a little more at ease than he had for the past few nights.

      ‘So you started up the business fifteen years ago?’ Javier concentrated his full attention on his dinner companion. How could he not when she was looking animated and beautiful in her scoop-necked scarlet blouse and slim-fitting black trousers, her gorgeous golden-brown hair rippling unhindered to her waist, every bit as lovely as he’d imagined it would be?

      ‘I know, fifteen years…makes me sound as old as Methuselah.’

      ‘But you don’t look as old as Methuselah,’ Javier charmingly assured her. Was she sensitive about her age—this woman with her smile as bright as sunlight and eyes the same stunning blue as a summer sky? She could be no more than thirty-four or thirty-five, surely, and even if she was, what did he care? A woman with a past was always far more interesting, he found, than some inexperienced twenty-year-old who didn’t know her own mind.

      ‘I feel it sometimes.’ A cloud seemed to slide across the dazzling blue irises. Pouring some more wine into her glass, Javier frowned. ‘Something is troubling you. Want to talk about it?’

      Sabrina hesitated. Should she burden this charming, good-looking man with her problems at work? The trouble was, he was so easy to talk to. Already she felt as if she’d known him much longer than the two occasions they’d met. After a generous sip of wine to fortify her blood, she decided to go with her instincts. ‘I promise not to let my troubles dominate the evening.’ She smiled and Javier leant forward, intrigued, his own profound concerns about his family momentarily suspended.

      ‘My problem is that the business needs to expand, come fully into the twenty-first century, and I can’t raise the capital to do it. We’re even losing some of our oldest customers because they’ve been lured by the tempting promises of all kinds of incentives by the chains, incentives we can’t possibly match. Our equipment is outdated and old-fashioned and the day we met I’d just been turned down by the bank for a loan. At this point I’ve got two very loyal staff members who’ve been with me practically since I started and I feel so bad that, unless I can raise some money to modernise soon, they’ll both be out of a job.’

      ‘I see.’ His eyes were impossibly dark, Sabrina reflected, her heartbeat racing suddenly. It was the wine, she told herself. She’d better take it easy. More than a couple of glasses and she might—just might—make a complete fool of herself…

      ‘If I owned a house I’d put that up as collateral but, as I only rent my flat, that isn’t a possibility.’ Shrugging, she tried to dismiss her worries and focus on the man in front of her instead. She’d come out to enjoy herself, not bring everything down by talking about work. Ellie was probably right. She was too fixated on her job. She’d almost forgotten how to have fun.

      ‘This wine is delicious. Thank you so much for asking me out for the evening. I’m really enjoying myself.’

      ‘You are very passionate about your business…and loyal to your staff. I admire that, Sabrina.’

      ‘And what about you, Javier? What are your passions in life?’

      ‘Don’t you know you can’t ask someone from my country such a question without the same answers?’

      ‘And that is?’

      ‘Argentina. I’m from the capital city—Buenos Aires—and my passions are football, politics and—until very recently—living life in the fast lane.’ One corner of his beautiful mouth hitched slightly upwards as if the confession pained him. Even with the wine heating her blood, Sabrina couldn’t fail to pick up on the sudden sadness in his voice. Immediately she felt guilty. They’d spent most of the evening so far talking about her. She wasn’t usually such selfish company—at least she prayed not.

      ‘So.’ She fixed him with such a direct gaze that Javier suddenly experienced a very disorienting feeling of light-headedness. ‘Something must have happened to change that? Life in the fast lane, I mean.’

      Brought back to earth with a bump, Javier felt his stomach muscles knot painfully as he remembered Michael in hospital, Angelina crying herself to sleep and his own life thrown into the worst kind of personal turmoil yet again in the space of eight short years.

      ‘You are right, something happened,’ he said heavily, loosening his tie. ‘But it is not something I care to talk about right now.’

      ‘I understand.’ Her voice was softly concerned. ‘I just want you to know that if you felt the need to share what was troubling you, I would be a good listener.’

      ‘Of that I have no doubt.’ Raising his glass, Javier gave her a small toast. ‘I am wondering why you are alone, Sabrina, or am I being too presumptuous? Is there a man in your life?’

      ‘Apart from my horrible bank manager, my colleague Robbie and my lovely brother-in-law, Phil?’ Her laugh was uninhibitedly melodic and very, very sexy. The kind of laugh a man didn’t easily forget.

      ‘No, Javier. I am footloose and fancy-free…whatever that means. Most of my time is taken up by the business. When I’m there, work just takes over, and when I’m not there I spend most of my free time worrying about it. Boring, aren’t I? I don’t think many men would put up with that.’

      ‘Men who do not welcome a challenge, perhaps.’

      What was he saying? Sabrina thought in fright. Would he welcome such a challenge? Her heart did a crazy little dance.

      ‘And what about the future?’ he wanted to know, dark eyes speculative. ‘Do you see yourself perhaps getting married and having a family?’

      It would be too crude to make some flip comment about her biological clock ticking, Sabrina thought, suddenly depressed. Suffice just to tell him no—such a future probably wasn’t on the cards for her personally.

      ‘Not really. The business is my baby. Oh, it’s not that I don’t love kids, I do. It’s just that—well, I’m not twenty-something any more and, anyway, I’m probably far too set in my ways for any man to want to take on. How about yourself; do you have a lady in your life? Perhaps at home in Argentina?’

      Javier thought about Christina, the ‘twenty-something’ beautiful Brazilian model he’d been dating up until a couple of months ago—when he’d come home unexpectedly early one afternoon and found her in bed with his twice-married, chain-smoking neighbour, Carlo. He shrugged. ‘The lady in my life is eleven years old.’ Inevitably a smile found its way to his lips when he spoke about Angelina. He wondered if there was any news from the hospital. He prayed she would get to sleep without tears wetting her pillow tonight.

      ‘You have a daughter?’ Blue eyes widening with surprise, Sabrina leant towards him across the table, unknowingly treating him to a very tantalising view of her creamy breasts down the scooped neck of her blouse. Heat raced into Javier’s groin and for a moment he was stunned. It had been such a long time since the sight of a beautiful woman could do that to him spontaneously.

      He blinked. ‘A niece. My sister’s child, Angelina.’

      ‘What a pretty name.’

      ‘Yes.’

      The waiter interrupted them with their meal. As he bustled about, laying plates on the white rich linen cloth and replenishing their wine, Sabrina sensed there was an air of sorrow about her companion that tugged at her heartstrings and made her want to know what distressed him so. Right now those impressively broad shoulders of his looked weighed down with the worries of the world and she longed to be able to offer even the smallest crumb of comfort.

      ‘Everything looks wonderful.’ Picking up her fork, she tried to lighten the mood a little.

      Javier smiled that destroyingly slow, thoughtful smile of his that made something in her innermost core clench and tighten with shivery anticipation, and simply said, ‘Eat. Enjoy. Then we will talk some more.’

      He accompanied her in a taxi home but didn’t come in when Sabrina offered him coffee,