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Poor Dick Crosby! She wasn’t being fair to him at all, she realised ruefully. He couldn’t help it if he wasn’t the man she really wanted to be with, nor that she was in love with a man who was far out of her reach.
Because she felt so guilty about her reluctance to go on this date at all, she made an extra special effort to look nice for Dick, aware that the flaming red dress, that reached just below her shapely knees, made her hair appear more ebony than usual, and added colour to her pale cheeks.
Nevertheless, her heart gave a weary lurch when the doorbell rang promptly at eight o’clock, and there was no way she could force a sparkle into haunted blue eyes as she hurried to answer the door.
Dick Crosby was in his early thirties, with thick sandy-coloured hair that fell endearingly across his forehead, and brown eyes that warmed appreciatively as they took in her appearance. Not quite six feet tall, he nevertheless possessed a natural grace of movement that made him appear taller than he actually was.
‘I must remember to thank Dizzy for finally introducing us properly,’ he murmured softly.
Dizzy. Her best friend—and aunt—had rung her shortly after she had got in this evening, assuring her what a lovely person Dick was, and telling her to ‘give him a chance’.
Mentioning Dizzy was the worst thing Dick could have done, if he had but known it, the evening losing what little glow it had had with the remembrance that Dizzy had been the one to set them up in this way. She meant well, but …
‘Shall we go?’ Christi suggested sharply, sighing inwardly as Dick gave her a hurt look. ‘Sorry,’ she grimaced. ‘Bad day,’ she excused, picking up her jacket to follow him out into the corridor.
He relaxed again. ‘Oh, I know what they are,’ he said knowingly. ‘Only too well, lately.’
‘Oh?’ she prompted with polite interest. Maybe if she got him chatting she wouldn’t have to add too much to the conversation.
‘Yes, I——’ Dick broke off abruptly as he saw the stricken look on her face as the lift doors opened in front of them.
Christi stared disbelievingly at Lucas and Marsha as they stood side by side in the lift. Lucas was grim-faced, Marsha as kittenishly beautiful as usual as her ex-husband ushered her out into the corridor.
The two couples stared at each other as the lift doors closed, and the lift descended again without Christi having made a move to go inside it.
Marsha and Lucas made an arresting couple—Lucas so tall and handsome, Marsha so delicately lovely as her hand rested on the crook of his arm.
But what were they doing together like this? the question screamed in Christi’s mind. How could Lucas fail to appreciate the beauty of the woman who had once been his wife, her hair curving alluringly about her beautiful heart-shaped face, the black dress she wore showing off her curves to perfection. Next to her, Christi felt like an ungainly giraffe!
And then reality righted itself, and with it came the realisation that Lucas and Marsha were divorced because they didn’t love each other, that they had been more like enemies the last five years, that the only interest they shared was their children.
The children … Of course! Marsha would be here to discuss something with Lucas concerning the children. She could only hope, for Lucas’s sake, that it was nothing too traumatic; Marsha had already made him suffer enough where they were concerned.
‘You seem to have missed the lift,’ Marsha purred mockingly, hazel-coloured eyes gleaming with catlike malice as she looked Christi over scornfully.
Christi’s head went back challengingly. ‘It must be the surprise of seeing you again,’ she derided. ‘It must be—almost a year since we last met?’
‘Something like that,’ the other woman dismissed in a bored voice. ‘You haven’t changed at all,’ she scorned. ‘Although the men in your life seem to have matured somewhat.’ She looked Dick over appreciatively, giving him her most seductive smile.
Christi stiffened at Marsha’s open derision for her lack of years, glancing uncomfortably at Lucas. He looked so grim, his eyes glittering silver with suppressed anger, that Christi just wanted to put her arms around him and tell him everything would be all right, that Marsha wouldn’t be able to torment him with the upbringing of his children any longer. But it would be a hollow promise; while Marsha had Lucas’s children, she took great delight in making him dance to her tune any time she wished. For a man as forceful and dynamic as Lucas, it was an impossible situation.
She woodenly made the introductions. Lucas’s greeting was terse, to say the least, Marsha’s a sensuous purr, and Dick’s after his initial surprise at hearing that Marsha and Lucas, the flirtatious woman and the grim-faced man, were husband and wife, was cautiously warm; he kept a wary eye on the other man’s face with its stony expression and hooded grey eyes. He obviously didn’t know what to make of the oddly matched pair, and Christi took pity on him and suggested they had better leave now or they would be late for dinner.
She cast one last anxious glance at Lucas as the lift doors closed behind her and Dick, her heart twisting at how bleak he looked.
‘What a strange couple,’ Dick remarked dazedly at her side.
Christi’s mouth tightened. ‘They’re divorced,’ she snapped.
‘Oh!’ he said with some relief. ‘Oh,’ he repeated again in soft speculation.
‘And yes, Marsha is very available, in case you’re interested,’ she told him sharply, marching out of the building to come to a halt on the edge of the pavement. She was shaking with anger, and drew in a deep, steadying breath to calm herself.
Dick caught up with her in a couple of strides; he seemed surprised by her outburst, and looked at her enquiringly.
‘I’m sorry.’ She gave a rueful grimace. ‘Marsha doesn’t bring out the best in me, and—well, I did warn you it had been a bad day.’ And it was getting worse by the moment! Dick couldn’t be blamed for finding Marsha attractive, especially after the woman had come on to him as strongly as she had. At the time, it had just seemed to her that Marsha was to blame for the fact that Lucas wasn’t able to fall in love again, and that the man Christi did have interested in her was also succumbing to the other woman’s undoubted sensual attraction. In that moment, it had just seemed too much! ‘Although that’s no reason to behave like a shrew,’ she apologised again.
This time, instead of feeling annoyance when Dick mentioned Dizzy, Christi felt relieved to be on neutral ground, relaxing slowly on the drive to the restaurant as they discussed the success of Dizzy’s illustrations. The most recent publication to come out with one of her illustrations was a Claudia Laurence book, one of the most successful ever.
Not many people realised it, but Christi’s uncle Zach was, in fact, Claudia Laurence, the author of those ‘hot’ historicals that always had the public clamouring for more. Christi herself had found out quite by accident, shocked to learn that the man she had once termed ‘fusty and dusty’ wrote those enjoyable adventurous romps. As Dizzy’s agent, Dick was also in on the secret, and they both relaxed as they discussed the books.
Her uncle’s secret was one she hadn’t even told Lucas, knowing how sensitive her uncle was about the subject, for his career as a professor of history was just as important to him. It wasn’t that she thought Lucas would tell anyone else, it was just that—well, it wasn’t her secret to tell. Maybe if he had been able to love her …
‘Is there anyone there?’ Dick spoke in a ghostly voice.
Christi blinked at him in surprise, having been completely unaware of her surroundings; the exclusive restaurant, and Dick, had faded from her mind as her thoughts had once again dwelled on Lucas.
‘I’m