Christmas with Her Ex(12)
‘So tell us about Venice.’
He said it at the same time as she turned to him and blurted out, ‘I’m so sorry I hurt you, Connor.’
Good grief. He hadn’t expected her to go straight for the jugular. He felt his face heat, something it hadn’t done for years, and he didn’t like it. Not one bit. He resisted the urge to turn his head and see if anyone else had heard.
All the frustration and anger he’d damped down at the station an hour ago rose again. The last place he needed it was right here in front of everyone, and now she’d apologised he’d have to be all amenable and say that it was fine.
Well, it wasn’t! She’d gutted him. But he didn’t want to say that either, so he wasn’t going there, and hopefully, with a hint, she would just drop it.
‘Perhaps we could leave that for a less public place.’
He heard the sting in the words as soon as they were out, and regretted it. The sudden blankness of her expression almost hid her shock—but he knew it was there. A part of him even mourned the Kelsie who would have shown every emotion, but this new woman was made of sterner stuff, it seemed, and for the first time he wondered if she would give as good as she got if he really let go.
But she said, ‘Of course,’ and he watched her long fingers play with her scarf, his senses ignoring his cold logic of disliking her, and marvelled that the material was the exact colour of her eyes.
Then she smiled with apparently unruffled composure at his grandmother. ‘Venice was gorgeous with the decorations and fairy lights, wasn’t it? Where did you stay?’
They carried on the conversation without him.
CHAPTER FOUR
CONNOR WISHED NOW he had sat opposite Kelsie so he could see her face because while her profile, he had to admit, was achingly familiar, he wanted expressions and he wasn’t getting any.
Not that he deserved what He wanted after such a harsh come-back to her apology. Not at all like him to speak before he thought and be unkind. He couldn’t remember that last time he’d let his mouth get away from him. Consideration was in his life blood.
He was known for his unflustered take on the most emotive issues and that was why he did so well with infertility issues. Someone had to offer a clear mind. And keep it that way.
His grandmother was expounding on the virtues of the Hotel Cipriani, across the Grand Canal from the Doge’s Palace, and he listened with half an ear as his libido poked him and suggested that even if he didn’t want to talk about it maybe it would be a good idea to work out just why Ms Summers had left him high and dry all those years ago.
It wasn’t like the thought hadn’t crossed his mind once or twice since he’d last seen her.
The one time he’d tracked her down, after a mutual acquaintance had mentioned her on one of his visits back to Australia, he’d phoned and spoken to a fellow named Steve, her fiancé apparently, and that had been that.
He glanced at her bare fingers and wondered dryly who’d run away this time? Him… or her again?
Maybe she was one of those serial bride-to-bes who made a habit of leaving at the last moment.
He remembered a movie his grandmother had made him watch and steeled himself towards Kelsie again. He wasn’t sure whether it was because of the past or in response to the definite attraction he could feel pounding between them, but he was finding it hard to concentrate on anything else except the woman sitting so close to him.
He didn’t like that either.
‘So you spent the whole time on your own?’ The voice was his but the tone belonged to a different person. Not what he’d intended and he saw his grandmother lift her brows in reproof.
Kelsie coped admirably. ‘I joined tour groups and made friends at the hotel.’ She raised her own finely arched brows at him. ‘I’m a good mixer.’
And let him think what he likes about that, Kelsie fumed, with some acerbity. Connor Black had obviously turned into a self-important boor.
She’d learnt it was always good to keep people guessing what went on in her head, especially men, but she couldn’t help feeling disappointed that her unlikely dream of being friends with Connor had slipped out the carriage window and was lost somewhere in the snow on top of the Dolomites.
Winsome looked crushed by her grandson’s attitude. And it was her pseudo-birthday.
One of them had to make an effort to give the birthday girl a good time. ‘Your grandmother says you deal with infertility?’
‘Not personally.’ He said it so dryly that she had to laugh.
Well, at least he had a sense of humour and despite the hard going at the table she was genuinely interested in his work. Winsome looked slightly relieved that Kelsie had started a conversational ball rolling that Connor might want to play with.