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SIX
‘I haven’t had a chance to talk to you yet, Allegra,’ Flick said, coming back into the dining room, having said goodbye to the last of her guests, a cabinet minister who was tipped for a promotion in the next reshuffle. She frowned at Allegra, who was helping the caterers to clear the table. ‘The caterers are paid to tidy up. Leave that and let’s have a chat.’
No one looking at them together would guess that they were mother and daughter. Where Allegra was tall and dark and a little quirky-looking, Flick was petite and blonde with perfect features, steely blue eyes and a ferocious intelligence. Allegra was super-proud of her famous mother, but sometimes she did wonder what it would be like to have a mother who would rush out to hug you when you arrived, like Libby and Max’s mother did, or fuss over you if you were unhappy.
A chat with Flick didn’t mean sitting over cocoa in the kitchen. It meant being interrogated in the study about your career and achievements. Which in Allegra’s case were not very many.
Sure enough, Flick led the way to her book-lined study and sat behind her desk, gesturing Allegra to a chair as if for an interview.
‘Another successful evening, I think,’ she said complacently.
‘The food was lovely,’ Allegra said dutifully, stealing a surreptitious glance at her watch. One in the morning... Was Max still with Darcy? He’d seemed surprisingly reluctant to go, but surely, once faced with Darcy’s glowing beauty, he wouldn’t be able to resist?
‘You seem very abstracted, Allegra.’ Flick had her razor-sharp interviewing voice on. ‘I noticed it during dinner too. Not very good manners. Would you rather go?’
‘No, no, of course not...’ Nobody could make her stammer like her mother and, because she knew it irritated Flick, Allegra pulled herself together. ‘I’m sorry. I’m just a bit preoccupied with an assignment I’ve got for Glitz.’
Flick sat back in her chair and raised her brows. ‘I hardly think an article on the latest fashion trend compares to the kind of issues that everyone else here has to deal with every day.’ She unbent a little. ‘But I read your little piece on shoes last week. It was very entertaining. The ending was a little weak but, otherwise, your writing has improved considerably. What’s the latest assignment?’
Allegra started to explain about the idea behind the article, but it sounded stupid when her mother was listening with her impeccably groomed head on one side. ‘I’m hoping that if I can make a success of it, Stella will give me more opportunities to write something different.’ She stumbled to a halt at last.
Flick nodded her approval. She liked it when Allegra thought strategically. ‘I suppose it’s experience of a sort, but you’d be so much better off at a serious magazine. You remember Louise’s son, Joe? He’s at The Economist now.’
Allegra set her teeth. ‘I’m not sure I’m ready to write about quantitative easing yet, Flick. The Economist would be a bit of a leap from Glitz.’
‘Not for someone who’s got what it takes—but you’ve never been ambitious,’ said Flick regretfully. ‘But you do look very nice tonight,’ she conceded. ‘Those dark florals are good for you. The earrings aren’t quite right, but otherwise, yes, very nice. William seemed rather taken,’ she added. ‘Are you going to see him again?’
‘Perhaps.’ The truth was that when William had asked her out, Allegra had opened her mouth to say yes and then somehow heard herself say that she was rather busy at the moment.
‘He’s got a great future ahead of him. I’d like to see you spend more time with people like that instead of these silly little assignments for that magazine. I mean, who are you working with at the moment?’
‘Max.’ Funny how his name felt awkward in her mouth now. ‘You remember, Libby’s brother,’ she said when Flick looked blank.
‘Oh, yes...rather dull.’
‘He isn’t dull!’ Allegra flushed angrily.
‘I don’t remember him striking me as very interesting,’ said Flick, dismissive as only she could be.
Allegra had a clear memory of thinking much the same thing once. So why was she wishing that she could have spent the evening with him instead of flirting with William, who was everything Max would never be?
‘I didn’t realise he was a particular friend of yours.’ Her mother’s eyes had narrowed suspiciously at the colour burning in Allegra’s cheeks.
‘He wasn’t. I mean, he isn’t. He’s just living in the house for a couple of months while Libby’s in Paris.’
‘I hope you’re not getting involved with him?’
‘Anyone would think he was some kind of troublemaker,’ Allegra grumbled. ‘He’s a civil engineer. It doesn’t get more respectable than that.’
‘I’m sure he’s very good at what he does,’ said Flick gently. ‘But he’s not exactly a mover and shaker, is he? I’ve always worried about the way you seem happy to settle for the mediocre, rather than fulfilling your potential.’ She shook her head. ‘I blame myself for letting you spend so much time with that family—what are they called? Warren?’
‘Warriner,’ said Allegra, ‘and they’re wonderful.’
‘Oh, I’m sure they’re very kind but I’ve brought you up to aim for the exceptional.’
‘They are exceptional!’ Normally the thinning of Flick’s lips would have been a warning to Allegra, but she was too angry to stop there. ‘They’re exceptionally generous and exceptionally fun. Max’s mother might not win any style awards, but she’s lovely, and his dad is one of the nicest, most decent, most honourable men I’ve ever met,’ she swept on. ‘I only wish I’d had a father like him!’
There was a moment of appalled silence, while her last words rang around the room. Flick had whitened. Allegra’s lack of a father was a taboo subject and Allegra knew it.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, letting out a long breath. ‘But why won’t you tell me about my father?’
‘I don’t wish to discuss it,’ said Flick tightly. ‘In your case, father is a biological term and nothing more. I’m sorry if I haven’t been enough of a parent for you.’
‘I didn’t mean that,’ Allegra tried to break in wretchedly, but Flick moved smoothly on.
‘I can only assure you that all I’ve ever wanted is the best for you. You have so much potential if only you would realise it. I really think it would be a mistake for you to tie yourself down to somebody ordinary who’ll just drag you down to his level.’
She should have known better than to try and press Flick about her father. ‘You don’t need to worry,’ said Allegra dully. ‘There’s no question of anything between Max and me and, even if there were, he’s going abroad to work soon.’
‘Just as well,’ said Flick.
It was just as well, Allegra told herself in the taxi home. Flick had suggested that she stay the night in her old room, but she wanted to go back to the flat. She didn’t want to admit to herself that she needed to know if Max had stayed with Darcy or not and it was like a sword being drawn out of her entrails when she opened the door and saw Max stretched out on the sofa.
‘You’re back early.’ Funny, her voice sounded light and normal when her heart was behaving so oddly, racing and lurching, bouncing off her chest wall like a drunk.
‘It’s half past one. It’s not that early.’
‘I suppose not.’ Allegra went to sit in the armchair. She picked at the piping. ‘So, how was your evening?’
‘Fine. Yours?’
‘Oh, you know. Lots of clever, glamorous guests. Witty conversation. Delicious food. The usual.’
‘Your average social nightmare.’
Allegra laughed and toed off her shoes so that she could curl her feet up beneath her. She was feeling better already.
‘So, did you find your true love over the canapés?’ Max asked.
‘I don’t know about that,’ she said. ‘I sat between two handsome, ambitious single men specially picked out for me by my mother.’
Max’s gaze flickered to her face and then away. ‘So who’s the lucky guy?’
‘Neither.’ Reaching up, she pulled the clips from her hair and shook it loose, oblivious to the way Max’s eyes darkened. ‘I’ve decided I need a relationship detox. I might abstain from all men for a while.’
‘That would be a shame.’
‘I’m sick of feeling that they only ask me out because I’m Flick Fielding’s daughter.’ It was the first time Allegra had said it out loud and she winced as she heard the resentment reverberating around the room.
‘That’s not why they ask you out,’ said Max roughly.
‘Isn’t it? Why else would they? I’m not clever the way they are. I can’t contribute to the conversation. I’ve got nothing to offer.’
‘You’re beautiful,’ said Max. ‘Come on, Legs, you must know you are,’ he said when she gaped at him. ‘You’re gorgeous. Any man would be glad to be seen with you. I don’t know who you sat next to tonight, but if you think he was more interested in Flick’s influence than in the way you looked, you’re not thinking straight!’
He would have been the one not thinking straight if he’d been sitting next to Allegra while she was wearing that dress. He would have been mesmerised by her arms, bare and slender, by those expressive hands, by the glow of her skin and the way the straight shiny hair threatened to slip out of its clips. He would have spent his whole time imagining how it would look falling to her shoulders, the way it was now.
He wouldn’t have been able to eat, Max knew. His mouth would have been too dry and he’d have been too busy watching the sweep of her lashes, the brightness of her eyes, the tempting hollow of her cleavage, the curve of her breasts... And thinking about her bare knees under the table, the long, sexy legs in those ridiculous shoes.
His head felt light and he realised it was because he’d stopped breathing. Max sucked in a steadying breath. Where had all that come from?
‘I didn’t know you thought I was beautiful,’ said Allegra, sounding thrown.
‘I thought so many other people would tell you there was no need for me to do the same. You’re still deeply irritating, mind,’ he said in an effort to drag the conversation back onto safe ground, ‘but of course you’re beautiful. I thought you knew.’
‘No.’ Allegra bent her head, pushing back the hair that slithered forward, but he still couldn’t see her face properly.
It was probably just as well. Max was uneasily aware that something tenuous had insinuated itself into the air, like a memory hovering just out of reach, or a forgotten word trembling on the tip of a tongue. Something that seemed to be drawing the air tighter, squeezing out the oxygen so that his chest felt tight and his breathing oddly sticky.
Could Allegra feel it?
Apparently not. Even as he struggled to heave in another breath, she was lifting her head and focusing on him with those eyes that seemed to get more beautiful every time he looked into them.
‘Tell me how you got on with Darcy,’ she said, sounding so completely normal that Max squirmed inwardly with humiliation. She wasn’t finding it hard to breathe. She wasn’t aware of the tension in the air, or snarled in a knot of inconvenient and inappropriate lust.
‘I wondered if you’d end up staying the night,’ she went on, but not as if she cared one way or the other.
So he obviously couldn’t admit that she was the reason he wasn’t tucked up next to the world’s favourite lingerie model right now.
Because Darcy had made it very clear that she was up for a lot more than just dinner, but it hadn’t felt right, not when he’d spent most of the evening wondering what Allegra was doing and who her bloody mother had lined up to sit next to her. Flick might be keen on big brains, but Max was prepared to bet that they were men too, and that they wouldn’t be above a flirtatious touch every now and then: Allegra’s shoulder, her hand, her knee...
It was only when Darcy had looked at him strangely that he’d realised he was grinding his teeth.
What was wrong with him? Max had wanted to tear out his hair. There he was, sitting across the table from Darcy King, with a clear invitation to get his hands on that luscious body. It was the opportunity of a lifetime, a fantasy come true for a million men like him, and all he could think about was his sister’s scrawny friend! He had to be sickening for something. Or certifiable.
Or both.
He liked Darcy, he really did, but it had been awkward. He told Allegra what he’d told Darcy, which was the best excuse he could come up with at the time.
‘I don’t really want to get involved with Darcy,’ he said. ‘She’s nice but...well, I don’t see her fitting into my life, do you? I can’t imagine someone like Darcy out in Shofrar, and I don’t feel like being just a novelty plaything for her. I know most other men would give their eye teeth to be toyed with by her, but I’m not sure it would be worth it.’
It wasn’t really an excuse. It was true. Not that Allegra seemed to be convinced.
She looked at him strangely. ‘I doubt that Darcy’s thinking about anything serious,’ she said. ‘It would only be a bit of fun. Where does Shofrar come into it?’
‘That’s where my life is going to be,’ said Max stiffly, even as he winced inwardly at what a pompous jerk he sounded. But the words kept coming out of his mouth without taking the trouble of detouring through his brain. ‘There’s no point in getting involved with someone who can’t hack it away from a city.’
Meaning what exactly? He wasn’t surprised at the way Allegra’s face clouded with disbelief.
‘So, let me get this right. You’re saying that you’re not going to have sex unless you can get married to someone who won’t mind being dragged out to some desert hellhole so that she can play second fiddle to your career?’
‘Yes...no!’ What was he saying?
‘Isn’t that going to be a bit limiting?’
Max was beginning to sweat. He hadn’t felt this out of control since Emma had blithely broken off their engagement.
Emma! He grabbed onto the thought of his fiancée. Ex-fiancée. ‘Look, I’m not the sort of guy who goes out with models,’ he said with a tinge of desperation. ‘In a fantasy, maybe, but I really just want to be with someone like Emma. I think being with Darcy made me realise that I wasn’t really over Emma yet.’
Which might even be true. Not the realisation, which in reality hadn’t crossed his mind at the time, but that he was still missing Emma at some level.
Now that he thought about it, Max thought it probably was true. It would explain the muddle inside him, wouldn’t it? Max hated feeling like this, as if he were churning around in some massive washing machine, not knowing which way was up. Not knowing what he thought or what he felt. He hadn’t felt himself since Emma had wafted off in search of passion.
‘I sent Emma a text, just like you suggested,’ he told Allegra almost accusingly, and she sat up straighter.
‘Did she reply?’
‘While I was on my way to Darcy’s. So I was thinking about her before I got there.’
That was true, although he hadn’t really been thinking about Emma in a yearning way, more in a how-odd-I-don’t-really-feel-anything-when-I-see-your-name-now kind of way. Until a week or so ago, Max would have said that all he wanted was to hear from Emma and try to get back to normal again, but when he’d read her text he hadn’t felt the rush of relief and hope that he’d expected.
At least Allegra was looking sympathetic now. ‘I can see that would throw you a bit,’ she said fairly. ‘What did Emma say?’
‘Nothing really. Just that she was fine and how was I?’
‘Oh, that’s very encouraging!’ Allegra beamed at him and he looked back suspiciously.
‘It is?’
‘Definitely. If Emma didn’t want to stay in contact, she wouldn’t have replied at all. As it is, she not only responded, she asked you a question back.’
‘So?’
‘So she’s opening a dialogue,’ Allegra said with heavy patience. ‘She’s asked how you are, which means you reply and tell her, and say something else, then she gets the chance to react to that... Before you know where you are, you’re having a conversation, and then it’s only a matter of time before you decide you should meet.’
She sat back, satisfied with her scenario. ‘It’s a really good sign, Max,’ she assured him. ‘I bet Emma’s bored with her passionate guy already and was thrilled to hear from you.’
Max couldn’t see it. Thrilled. There was an Allegra word for you. Emma wasn’t the kind of woman who was thrilled about things. It was one of the things he had always liked about her. Emma didn’t make a big fuss about anything. She was moderation, balance, calm—unlike some people he could mention.
He looked at Allegra, who was curled up in the armchair, bright-eyed and a little tousled at the end of the evening, apparently unaware that her dress was rucked up, exposing a mouth-watering length of leg. When he thought about Allegra, he didn’t think moderation. He thought extravagance. Allegra dealt in extremes. She adored things or she loathed them. She was wildly excited at the prospect of something or dreading it. She was madly in love or broken-hearted. It was exhausting trying to keep up with the way her emotions swung around. Emma had never left his head reeling.
Of course, Emma was the one who had thrown up her nice, safe life for a passionate affair, so what did he know?
Max hunched his shoulders morosely. Women. Just when you thought you understood them, they turned around and kicked your legs out from beneath you, leaving you floundering.
Look at Allegra, who had just been Libby’s mildly annoying friend. He’d known exactly where he was with her. True, there had been that odd little moment a few years ago but, apart from that, it had been an easy relationship. Nothing about her seemed easy now. He couldn’t look at her without noticing her skin or the silkiness of her hair. Without thinking about her legs or her mouth or the tantalising hollow of her throat.
Without blurting out that she looked beautiful.
Max didn’t know exactly what Allegra had done to change, but she had done something.
Now she was fiddling with her hair, smoothing it behind her ear, grooming herself like a cat. ‘So have you replied to her?’ she asked.
‘What?’ Mesmerised by her fingers, Max had forgotten what she was talking about.
Allegra looked at him. ‘Have you replied to Emma?’ she repeated slowly, and Max felt a dull colour burning along his cheekbones.
‘Oh. No, not yet.’
‘You’re playing it cool?’
Max was damned if he knew.
What if Allegra was right? What if Emma really was waiting to hear from him? If they could miraculously make everything right, get married as planned, and go out to Shofrar? He ought to feel happy at the idea...oughtn’t he? But all he really felt was confused.
He met Allegra’s expectant gaze. Playing it cool sounded a lot better than not having a clue what was going on.
‘Something like that,’ he said.
* * *
‘Allegra!’ Max banged his fist on the bathroom door. ‘What in God’s name are you doing in there?’
‘Nearly ready,’ Allegra called back. Carefully, she smoothed her lipstick into place and blotted her mouth. She wouldn’t for the world admit it to Max, but she was nervous about the evening ahead. This dinner with Bob Laskovski and his wife was so important to him. She didn’t want to let him down.
Max had been in a funny mood for the last few days. Allegra had decided that hearing from Emma had thrown him more than he understood. He was in denial, but it was obvious that he really wanted Emma back. Why else would he resist Darcy?
It had been easier to go out and leave him to be morose on his own, and when William got in touch after dinner at Flick’s she had agreed to meet him for a drink after all. The whole relationship detox thing would never have worked anyway, Allegra decided. She should at least give him a chance.
William was good company, good-looking, and she enjoyed herself, and she wouldn’t let herself think that looking at William’s patrician mouth didn’t make her stomach hurt the way it did when she looked at Max’s.
Because there was no point in thinking about Max that way.
Allegra couldn’t even explain what kind of way that was, but it was something to do with a trembly sensation just below her skin, with a thudding in her veins that started whenever Max came into the room. It was something to do with the way every sense seemed on full alert when he was near.
Being so aware of him the whole time made her uncomfortable. It was crazy. It was inappropriate. It didn’t make sense.
It was just the assignment, she tried to reassure herself. It was just spending so much time with him. It wasn’t real. A temporary madness, that was all. Max would go to Shofrar and she would go back to normal.
She couldn’t wait.
Max had been very clear. He wasn’t interested in a quick fling. He was looking for someone who could be part of his life, someone who would share his interests and not mind being dragged around the world. It wasn’t Darcy, and it sure as hell wasn’t her either, Allegra knew. She was the last kind of girl Max would ever want to get involved with...and the feeling was mutual, she hurried to remind herself whenever that thought seemed too depressing. It wasn’t as if she wanted to leave London. She had a career here.
She might not be changing the world or writing ground-breaking articles, but she was doing what she wanted to do...wasn’t she? Allegra’s mind flickered to illustration then away. Drawing cartoon animals wasn’t a serious job. She could do better for herself, as Flick was constantly telling her.
Besides, the article about Max was going to be her big break. She had already written the first half and it was pretty good, even if she did say so herself. Perhaps she was spending rather too much time sketching Max while she thought, but it was inevitable that she should be thinking about him. Right now, that was her job, that was all.
‘Allegra! We’re going to be late!’ Max had just raised his fist to rap the bathroom door again when Allegra pulled it open. She smiled brightly at him, gratified by the way his jaw slackened.
‘What do you think?’ She pirouetted in the doorway. She was in the most demure outfit she could find, a killer LBD with a sheer décolletage and sleeves. Even Max couldn’t object to a black dress, Allegra had reasoned, but she’d been unable to resist pimping up the plainness with glittery earrings and bling-studded stilettos. There was only so much plain dressing a girl could do, and she was counting on the fact that Max and his boss were men and therefore unlikely to even look at her shoes.
‘Do I look sufficiently sensible?’ she asked, and Max, who had evidently forgotten that his fist was still raised, lowered it slowly.
‘Sensible isn’t quite the word I was thinking of,’ he said, sounding strained.
Allegra was disappointed. ‘I’ve put my hair up and everything,’ she protested. Her hair was so slippery it had taken ages to do, too.
‘You look very nice,’ Max said gruffly. ‘Now, come on. The taxi’s waiting. We need to get a move on.’ His gaze travelled down her legs and ended at her shoes. ‘Can you make it to the taxi?’
‘Of course I can,’ said Allegra, unsure whether to be pleased or miffed that he had noticed her shoes after all.
Her hair was precariously fixed, to say the least, so Allegra settled back into the seat and pulled her seat belt on with care. She loved London taxis, loved their bulbous shape and the yellow light on top. She loved the smell of the seats, the clicking of the engine, the straps that stopped you sliding around on your seat when they turned a corner. Sitting in a taxi as it drove past the iconic London sights made Allegra feel as if she was at the centre of things, part of a great vibrant city. It gave her a thrill every time.
Every time except that night.
That night, the streets were a blur. Allegra couldn’t concentrate on London. She was too aware of Max sitting beside her. He was sensibly strapped in too, and he wasn’t touching her. He wasn’t even close, but that didn’t stop her whole side tingling as if the seat belt had vanished and she had slid across the seat to land against him.