The Final Seduction(27)

'I know you did.'

'How?'

'I saw you.'

Her breath seemed to catch in her throat. 'Did you?'

'Uh-huh.'

'But I didn't see you!'

'I know you didn't. You were far too busy bending to pick up Ellie's teddy which she seemed hell-bent on hurling into the sea!'

She chuckled, and he looked surprised, but then she guessed it was a  long time since he had heard her laugh quite so uninhibitedly. And  suddenly she wanted more than anything to fling her arms round him in a  great big hug, as she would any old friend from way back. She contented  herself with studying him, instead.

He wore black jeans too, and a bright scarlet sweater. He saw her looking at it and raised his eyebrows. 'Like it?'

'Love it,' she said lightly. 'No one will miss you coming, that's for sure!'

He laughed. 'The host should always be clearly visible-that's the second rule of parties.'

Now who had taught him that? she wondered. 'And what's the first rule?'

'Oh, that's easy.' There was a pause before he said, very deliberately, 'Only invite people you like.'

She gave him a wry look. 'So you like me now, do you, Drew?'

His eyes were rueful. 'I always did, Shelley-it might have been easier if I didn't.'

'Oh,' she said faintly, going pink with pleasure but hoping that he  wouldn't notice in the dark. This was crazy! All their history and she  was stricken with shyness-worse than anything she'd experienced the  first time around! She held out the bag towards him.

'What's this?' he asked, taking it.

'These are the wooden remains of a wall cupboard I demolished when I was decorating.'

'Not the one in the hall?'

'That's the one! I hated it, I'm afraid.'

'No, I never liked it, either.'

Oh, the danger-the lazy and seductive danger of a shared past! Shelley  quickly handed over the bottle. 'And here's some wine. I-' She had been  about to say that she hoped he liked red, when she remembered that he  did. 'Hope you like it.'

'Thank you.'

'And sparklers.'

'Why, thank you, Shelley,' he said gravely. 'Your hair looks good, by the way.'

She shook it in denial. 'It's all over the place. It needs a cut.'

'No, it doesn't. I prefer it longer.'

Suddenly she found that she wanted to grow it down to her bottom!

'Now come and get a drink and I'll introduce you to anybody you don't know.'

'I won't know anyone!' she groaned.

'Rubbish! You've met Jack, the doctor-he's here with his wife. And  Charlie from the shop. Plus, there are a couple of people you were at  school with-'                       
       
           



       

She felt as though her nervousness would swallow her up. Maybe that was  what made her drop her mask. 'Drew, these people are your friends.  They'll hate me, resent me-'

'What for?' he asked, in surprise.

'For running away the way I did-'

'No, they won't.'

'I remember what it was like.'

'And it's ancient history, Shelley. People have moved on. Most people won't even remember.'

'And if they do?'

He shook his head. 'It's between you and me, kitten. Nobody else.'

She shivered, and it had nothing to do with the night air.

'Or would you rather look round and see what I've done to the cottage?' he asked suddenly.

Her heart crashed against her ribcage. 'No-' That sounded all wrong  somehow. Slipping away with him when she'd only just arrived. 'Not yet.'

'What will you drink?'

'Anything.'

'Decisive kind of woman, are you?' he teased.

He had said that they were flirting that night at the Westward, but he  had been wrong. They had made the same kind of noises as flirting, but  there had been anger and bitterness distorting everything they said. Yet  now each word they spoke seemed to be charged with about a hundred  different allusions. This was flirting! Really flirting-and suddenly she  didn't care. She held his gaze. 'I'll leave you to make your own mind  up about that!'

Only a pulse beating furiously at his temple betrayed the fact that he obviously wasn't feeling as calm as he looked. 'Right.'

A voice broke into the tension and shattered it.

'Come on, Drew-stop monopolising this beautiful woman and get round and fill everyone's glasses up-you are the host, man!'

It was Jack Simpson, who gave Shelley his crinkly smile. He was  accompanied by a heavily pregnant woman with shiny hair, who was  clinging onto his arm as if for support. Which, come to think of it,  thought Shelley, she probably was.

'Go away,' growled Drew. 'Can't you see you're interrupting?'

'I'm paying you back for interrupting me the other night!' teased Jack.

'But that was work!' protested Drew, giving Shelley the helpless shrug of someone who knew they were beaten.

'So is this! When you throw a party you can't just chat up the women!'  said Jack sternly. 'Or woman,' he amended, winking at Shelley. 'Someone  was asking how the sound system works and I told them I didn't have a  clue. Drag yourself away!'

Drew forced a smile. 'Right.' But still he didn't move. 'I'll get someone to bring you a drink over, Shelley.'

'Thanks.' Shelley watched him go, her heart aching more than her body  because she knew now that she wanted him very badly. And not just his  body-though she couldn't deny she wanted that. But she wanted his soul  and his mind, too. His wit and his imagination. She wanted every little  bit of him …

Was it too late? she wondered. Not to start again necessarily, but maybe to start anew …

Jack had placed a protective hand in the small of his wife's back.  'Shelley, this is Rebecca-my ripe and beautiful spouse. Rebecca, meet  Shelley Turner. Remember I told you about her?'

Rebecca smiled. 'Oh, you're Jennie's friend.'

'Yes, I am.' Shelley smiled back. 'Your husband was absolutely brilliant  the other night when I was babysitting for Ellie. She's fine now,' she  added.

'Yes, I know,' said Jack. 'I popped in the next morning on my way back  from surgery to find her howling with hunger!' He sniffed the air. 'Mmm!  Are those sausages I smell?'

'That's all you ever think about!' teased his wife, but he looked meaningfully at her swollen belly and murmured, 'Oh, really?'

Shelley was wondering where her drink was when a tall woman who was  dressed, like her, entirely in black came across the garden towards  them. She was carrying a steaming glass of what smelt like gluhwein in  one hand, and a bowl of cashew nuts in the other.

'Hi, Rebecca! Hi, Jack!' Air kisses all round. She turned to Shelley.  'Hello, there-I know you're Shelley but you don't know me! Yet!' she  giggled. 'I'm Amanda! Drew told me to fetch you a drink, and so-like his  ever-faithful slave-here I am! And here you are!'

Willing her fingers not to shake, Shelley stretched her hand out and took the steaming punch-glass from her. 'Thank you.'

Shelley took a sip of her drink which meant she could get a good look at  Amanda without appearing to stare too much. Close up, she could see  that her dark hair was in a shiny French plait all the way down her  back. She looked ultrafeminine and vibrant, and Shelley suddenly felt  shorn and vulnerable with her neck all bare and her ears showing.                       
       
           



       

Rebecca turned her face up to her husband. 'Darling, can we go and find me a seat somewhere?' she asked him plaintively.

Jack smiled, and bent to kiss the tip of her nose. 'Oh, you're going to  milk this pregnancy for all you're worth, aren't you, my love? Have me  running round in circles after you!'

Rebecca's smile was serene and dreamy. 'Of course I am! What do you  expect the fifth time round?' She shot him a look from beneath her  lashes. 'You'll just have to stop getting me pregnant, Jack Simpson!'

'Only if you stop making yourself so irresistible!'

'Jack!'

Jack winked at Shelley and Amanda. 'Excuse us, please, ladies!' And he  decorously led his wife across the lawn towards the house.

'Five?' queried Shelley, aghast.

'I know. It's unbelievable, isn't it?' asked Amanda as they watched them  go. 'That beautiful, serene-looking woman has four at home and another  on the way-whatever it is she's taking, I want some of it!'

The slap of the waves against the shore from the nearby beach was  hypnotic, and Shelley's attention was caught by the sight of Drew adding  a couple of pieces of wood to the unlit bonfire. She watched him while  pretending not to, as up above them the stars dazzled their pale fire  over the indigo sky.

'Gorgeous, isn't it?' asked Amanda, looking around. 'I love this  setting. Drew has the best house in Milmouth, in my opinion. I said to  him the other night, If you're ever thinking about selling up, then I  want first option!'

'Have you known him … very long?'

'Only about a year. Charlie and I met him when we took over the shop.'

Shelley frowned as Amanda's words clicked into place. 'Charlie's your husband?'

Amanda looked slightly nonplussed. 'Yes, of course he is! I thought you  knew that. We were having drinks with Drew the other night when you  telephoned to say that Ellie was sick. I was offering to go with him as  my baby is the same age as Ellie. I thought he told you?'

'Yes, he did,' agreed Shelley slowly. 'He told me you were there.' But  he had omitted to tell her that Charlie had been there, too. Or that  Amanda had a husband. He had just answered her question honestly, so  that she had been able to put two and two together and come up with a  number somewhere in the thousands! Now why had he done that?