The Night Of The Wedding. Kathryn Ross

hair, an apologetic, nervous look on his handsome features.

      ‘Sorry, Kate.’

      CHAPTER TWO

      KATE sat alone in the apartment in total shock for hours watching the light fade.

      The earlier scene played and replayed in her head with mind-blowing clarity. The woman—‘Natasha,’ Stephen had called her—had got up, dived into a T-shirt and a pair of jeans and disappeared into the bathroom.

      ‘She’s a colleague from work,’ Stephen murmured as he reached for his clothes.

      His calmness had brought fury rushing through her veins. A thousand questions fought for position, but all she’d said was, ‘You’d better get out.’ her voice trembling with rage.

      ‘Out?’ He had looked stunned. Like a little boy who had been told that Christmas had been cancelled. ‘Out where?’

      ‘Out of the apartment…out of my life.’

      ‘Oh, come on, Kate…we need to talk things over—’

      ‘I think the time for talking is over.’

      She had watched from the front windows as they’d left. Stephen had put a small case and his guitar in the back of a red sports car. The woman’s wheat-blonde hair had swung jauntily as she’d got behind the wheel. Then they’d roared off.

      She was glad she hadn’t cried—at least she had kept her dignity. She was glad she had restrained her temper as well. Neither of those emotions would have served her well, and at least that woman hadn’t got the satisfaction of seeing her break.

      But now, alone and desolate, Kate felt the tears welling up inside her. She swallowed them down, fiercely. Then on impulse she stood up, picked up her bag and left the apartment.

      As she cycled along the road, the fairy lights on the bridges twinkled softly in the dusky purple of the evening. Lovers strolled hand in hand towards a brightly lit restaurant. It was a place Stephen had often taken her to. She had imagined he might take her there tonight. How could she have been so stupid? she wondered. She felt numb inside, as if all of this were unreal, some kind of sick dream.

      She cut down a side street, the breeze whipping through her hair, cooling the fierce heat of her skin.

      She didn’t know where she was going until she turned down Nick’s road. It was as if she were operating by remote control.

      Nick lived in a converted warehouse. His offices were one side, his apartment the other. Kate pressed the front doorbell a couple of times but there was no answer. Where was he? she wondered. Maybe that woman from the café had detained him; perhaps they were out having a drink together.

      Relief flooded through her as she heard footsteps and the door swung open, bathing her in warm, mellow light.

      Nick had changed out of his suit and was wearing a pair of blue chinos and a blue shirt. He looked relaxed, and handsome. Kate felt her heart twist painfully. She had never felt so glad to see him.

      ‘I was starting to think you were out,’ she said with a wobbly smile.

      ‘And I thought you’d be on champagne in some fabulous restaurant by now, an enormous diamond ring on your finger.’ He stepped back so that she could come inside. ‘What’s happened?’ He closed the front door, his eyes flicking over her, taking in the fact that she was wearing the same clothes as earlier, then locking on the extreme pallor of her skin.

      ‘Katy, what’s wrong?’

      ‘Stephen has been having an affair.’ She kept her voice steady with extreme difficulty. ‘I caught him with her…in our bed.’

      She didn’t know what happened, but one moment she was standing there, telling him in what she thought was an incredibly brave voice, and the next she was in his arms and he was cradling her close, hushing her as she broke down into sobs.

      ‘It’ll be OK,’ he murmured gently, stroking her hair back from her face. ‘You’ll get through this.’

      ‘No, I won’t,’ she sobbed. ‘How could he do this to me, Nick? I thought when we moved in together that we were making a commitment; it was such a big step for me. He talked me into it, for heaven’s sake! Told me that he looked on it as a prelude to us getting married. I thought we were a couple, that we would be faithful and…God, I’ve been such an idiot.’

      ‘No, you haven’t.’

      ‘I didn’t have a clue, not one clue that he was seeing someone else.’ Kate closed her eyes and shuddered. ‘Talk about naïve…you must think I’m really stupid. All that talk about him proposing to me and all the time…’

      ‘I don’t think you’re stupid. I think you are a very intelligent and lovely woman,’ Nick said softly.

      ‘You’re just being kind,’ she murmured.

      ‘No, I’m not.’ He pulled back from her and regretfully she broke away from his embrace. She had wanted to stay in his arms for a bit longer. She liked the feel of his body, warm and masculine against hers; it made her feel protected, cherished.

      He tipped her face up towards his and studied her for a moment, his hand resting against her chin. Her heart seemed to give a very strange tilt as he wiped away the remains of the tears from her cheek with a gentle brush of his fingertips. ‘He’s not worth your tears, Katy,’ he said softly.

      ‘Probably not.’ Her voice trembled, but strangely she wasn’t thinking about Stephen now, she was thinking about the touch of Nick’s hand against her skin. There was something sensual about the caress, something disturbingly sexy in the husky male undertone of his voice.

      Kate frowned. What the hell was the matter with her? she wondered. She must be so upset by Stephen that she was imagining things.

      He turned away from her and led the way through to the lounge. ‘I’ll fix you a drink,’ he said.

      ‘Thanks.’ Her eyes flicked over the familiar room. It was comfortable, ultra-modern in design with a masculine stylishness, no ornaments, just plain blue settees against the wooden floor, and a few coloured rugs, no curtains on the window, just plain wooden blinds that he never drew down.

      He had a workstation at the far end of the enormous room; a lamp was trained on it, spotlighting the computer that was turned on.

      ‘I’m sorry, I’ve interrupted your work,’ she murmured.

      ‘You haven’t interrupted anything.’ Nick stood with his back to her as he poured their drinks. She noticed how wide his shoulders were, how narrow his hips. He has the body of an athlete, she thought idly.

      ‘I’m glad you’ve come over. That’s what friends are for, isn’t it?’ He turned and walked over to hand her a glass of brandy. ‘What is it they say—a trouble shared is a trouble halved?’

      She smiled wanly. ‘I’m sure you could do without my problems.’ She looked at the glass. Kate didn’t usually drink spirits; a glass of wine on odd occasions was about as much as she imbibed.

      ‘Brandy is good for shock,’ Nick said. ‘Just take a few sips.’

      She nodded and sat down on the settee.

      ‘I just can’t believe he’s done this to me, Nick.’ She stared at the amber liquid in the balloon glass. ‘He told me he loved me.’

      There was silence between them for a moment. Nick sat down on the settee opposite her. ‘Where is he now?’

      ‘I told him to go and he did.’

      ‘With the woman?’

      Kate nodded.

      ‘Who is she?’

      ‘I’d never seen her before.’ She shrugged. ‘He said she was a colleague from work. Her name is Natasha; she’s blonde and