“Sometimes desire is out of our control and the lead is broken.”
“We shouldn’t let it get out of control. We should raise ourselves up to higher thoughts, not succumb to our primal instincts.”
He laughed affectionately. “Who are you kidding? You sound like a bad textbook.”
“I know what’s wrong, that’s all.”
“Don’t try to analyze it. I know you feel attracted to me, too.”
“I would never admit to it. I’m a married woman.” But she felt the blood rush to her cheeks to give her away.
“It doesn’t matter whether you admit it or not. I can sense it, like a dog. I know it’s wrong, but I can’t stop desiring you. It’s not just your beauty—there are many beautiful women in the world—it’s something else. Something unique to you that I won’t even try to limit to a word. I felt it the first moment I met you. It hit me hard and left me reeling. I know I should walk away, but I don’t want to.”
“Well, hello, Angelica.” It was Jenna, towering over the table in a blousy blue shirt with billowing sleeves, obviously the height of fashion. For Jack she took off her sunglasses, pushing them up into her hair.
“Leighton Jones,” he said, coolly extending his hand.
“Nice to meet you,” Jenna replied, smiling coyly. “You’re from South Africa.”
“Johannesburg.”
“Beautiful city and such friendly people.”
“Thank you.”
“So, Angelica, how come you’re having lunch with such a handsome stranger?”
“He’s my publisher—aren’t I lucky!”
“You certainly are. You know, I’ve always wanted to write a book.”
“You should,” said Jack. “Everyone has a book in them.”
“Oh, I know I’d write a best seller. My life is full of incredible stories, and I’ve met the most amazing people.”
“An autobiography, then?”
“Un roman à clef,” she replied in a flawless French accent.
“Well, when you do, let me know?”
“Do you have a card?”
Angelica was astonished by her forwardness. Jenna held out an expectant hand.
“You write the book first,” said Jack with a smirk. “Then, once you’ve finished, get in touch. Everyone has good ideas; few manage to write them into anything resembling a book.”
Jenna wasn’t used to being rebuffed. She faltered a moment, then regained her composure. “Okay, I’ll do that. Well, it’s been nice meeting you. See you at the school gates, Angelica.” Jack watched her walk away, which was what she intended, because she walked deliberately, swinging her hips.
“She’s a good-looking Yarnie,” he said as she disappeared round the corner.
Angelica rolled her eyes. “If that’s what rocks your boat.”
He chuckled. “It doesn’t, as it happens. But I can appreciate good legs.”
“How far off the porch would she tempt you?”
“Little more than a sleepy glance.” He leaned back in his chair and sighed. “Anyway, I’m already off the porch. Remember, I know my Yarnies from my Enrods, and you, my darling Sage, are an Enrod through and through.”
They remained at the table until after three o’clock. The restaurant was almost empty. Waiters bustled about clearing tables and laying up for dinner. Angelica reminded him that the children came out of school at half past. “Then I suppose I have to let you go,” he said, waving for the bill.
“Thank you for lunch.”
“The pleasure is all mine.”
“I hope you have a good few days here.”
“They will be good if you let me see you again.”
“Jack . . . I don’t know . . .” The effects of the wine had worn off, and she remembered who she was. “I have a family.”
“I’m only asking for your friendship. I like you.”
“And I like you, too. But it’s not appropriate.”
“Look, I’ve put my cards on the table, but I’m man enough to have you on your terms. As you observed, I’m still tied to the porch. Let me have a bark; I’m not asking for more than that.”
She thought about it a moment. “All right, I’ll see you again. You can call me.”
He took her hand, and Angelica’s spirits soared as his smile shone a light into the neglected recesses of her soul.
He paid the bill and accompanied her out into the street. It was still sunny, but long, damp shadows fell across the tarmac to remind them that it was autumn.
“So,” she said, suddenly feeling awkward. “It’s farewell.”