‘I’m a good dancer,’ she started slowly. ‘But not a brilliant one.’ Her hand reached up to his face and turned his taut cheek to face her. ‘I can’t believe I’ve just admitted that. I’ve always kidded myself that one day there’d be that nameless face in the audience, the one that was going to whisk me away, ask me why I was wasting my talent in the chorus line. It isn’t going to happen for me. It never was, and that really hurts to say.’
His eyes moved slowly to hers, the pain and honesty in her voice forcing his attention.
‘But Aiden…He’s got more talent in his little finger than I have in my whole body. His paintings are so beautiful they make me cry. And not just me. You should see them—go to the gallery and look at his display, watch people’s reactions when they see his work. You should take your father as well,’ she added. ‘Maybe Aiden was selfish, chasing his dream, but with raw talent like that I don’t think he had a choice.’
Zavier didn’t answer. Her heartfelt speech was left hanging in the air, without comment or acknowledgment, and Tabitha could only wonder if it had even registered as he took her arm and they carried on walking. Zavier was so broodingly silent that she knew the end of the night was imminent, that her allocated time slot was over.
With terrifying clarity Tabitha knew that she didn’t want it to end.
Idly she stared at the casino as they passed it, watching the huge gas chimneys blasting flames into the air in their half-hourly performance, lighting up the night sky in a huge phallic show of power. But of course Zavier misconstrued her vague interest.
‘Is this where your money goes?’
‘What? Do you think that I’m going to dash back there once you’ve taken me home?’
Only Zavier wasn’t joking, she realised as he glanced over, a look of contempt curiously interlaced with pity on his face.
‘I wouldn’t put it past you.’ Under the brightly lit forecourt it was as light as midday, but his expression was unreadable. ‘Come on, let’s go in.’
‘I thought it was out of bounds,’ Tabitha remonstrated, realising her lie by omission might very easily be exposed once Zavier saw her attempts at gambling. Still, the relief that flooded her at the prospect of prolonging their time together made her protest audibly weak.
‘We haven’t signed the contract yet. Anyway, if you’d been paying attention you’d know that you’re allowed to come to the casino so long as you’re with me.’
‘But why on earth would you want to bring me here? And why tonight? Is this another one of your bizarre tests?’
‘I’m afraid so!’ A smile tugged at the edge of his mouth. ‘A lot of my clients like to be entertained here when they visit Australia; sometimes you’ll be expected to accompany me.’
‘Oh, and I suppose you want to be sure I can contain myself, that I’m not going to pull out a pack of cards at the dinner table or descend into a catatonic state at the poker machines in front of your important clients?’ She snapped her mouth closed as his grin deepened.
‘I think they’re a bit too high-rolling for the poker machines. Is that where you spend your time when you’re here?’
Tabitha gave a half-nod, consoling herself that at least she was telling the truth—or sort of. Her friend Jessica’s hen night had ended up at the casino, and Tabitha had fed a whole twenty dollars into the machines—she was hardly the addict Zavier so clearly thought she was, unless they were talking about shoes!#p#分页标题#e#
They were walking through the casino’s arcade now, row after row of designer shops, their wares glittering invitingly in the window, their doormen insuring only the truly well heeled even made it past the threshold.
‘You know they’re expensive when there’s no price tag,’ she said, pressing her nose up against one of the windows and letting out a low moan. ‘Did you ever see anything more heavenly?’
Zavier took in her glittering eyes, the rosy cheeks flushed from champagne and the tendril of red hair cascading from her ponytail and working its way down her long slender neck. He was about to agree when he forced himself to concentrate on the focus of Tabitha’s attention.
‘It’s a pair of black slippers,’ he drawled in a bored voice.
‘They’re not slippers,’ Tabitha corrected knowingly. ‘They’re mules…’ She eyed the petite shoes with the cheekiest little kitten heels, the heavily jewelled uppers winking back at her. ‘And they’re divine.’