Kathryn Ross - Her Determined Husband

Cal asked her suddenly.

“Sorry?” She looked around at him, pretending she hadn’t heard, trying to play for time. What kind of question was that?

“Since we split up, have you ever had a moment when you missed me?”

She hesitated. The truth was she had missed him a lot. There had been days when she was desperate to talk to him, to ask him things. Like why had this happened to them? Sometimes she’d missed him so badly she had lain in bed and ached for him. But she wouldn’t tell him that.

“No, I don’t think so.” She smiled airily at him. “Sorry if that upsets your ego.”

Cal shrugged. “I missed you,” he said softly.

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CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

EPILOGUE

IT WAS a fact of life that when you were running late for an appointment the traffic lights were always on red and you could never find a parking space. Then, when you did find a space, some arrogant so-and-so stole it! Kirsten glared angrily at the man in the snazzy convertible Mercedes who had just blatantly snuck into her coveted spot.

He turned and their eyes connected, and in that brief instant Kirsten felt numb with shock. It was her ex-husband, Cal McCormick.

As she drove on past and the eye contact was severed she immediately doubted her senses. No! It couldn’t have been Cal, she tried to reassure herself. Cal wasn’t in Hollywood; he wasn’t even in America. He was still working in England, wasn’t he?

She glanced in her rear-view mirror and saw the man climb out of the car. He was tall, with a good physique and dark hair, but she was at a distance now and it was too hard to say if it was Cal or not.

Forgetting the fact that she was rushing for an important luncheon appointment with her agent, Kirsten swung her old car once more around the block and went back for another look.

But the red car was locked up by the time she got back and there was no sign of the handsome man in the pale grey suit.

There were a million good-looking guys in LA and that man wasn’t Cal, she told herself soothingly. A space became vacant further down the street and she drove into it with a shaky feeling of relief. This wasn’t the first time that she had thought she had glimpsed her ex-husband. It was two years since they had split up, but in the aftermath of their divorce she had imagined she had seen him on quite a few occasions…even whilst knowing full well that it couldn’t be him because Cal was thousands of miles away on another shore with another woman.

But she was over all that now, and definitely over Cal McCormick. And this was no day for her to go to pieces, she told herself firmly. Things were going right for her now. She had auditioned for a leading role in an up-and-coming movie and out of hundreds of applicants had got the part. Her contract was signed and today she was to meet her co-star, Jack Boyd, and her agent, Gerry Woods, for lunch. This was the day that her fortunes changed, her bank balance reverted to the black and her ex-husband was wiped clear off her memory bank for ever.

She ran a smoothing hand over her long blonde hair, glanced at herself in her mirror to reassure herself that she looked her best, and then, taking a deep breath, stepped out onto the sidewalk.

From his vantage point of the best table in the exclusive restaurant, Cal watched Kirsten walk down the sidewalk towards him. She hadn’t changed at all, he thought. Even viewed through a smoked-glass haze, she looked vibrantly fabulous. She was wearing a stylish white trouser suit that probably came from one of the designer boutiques in the town, and despite the fact that she was tall she wore incredibly high heels. Her thick blonde hair was loose and looked slightly windswept.

There were lots of good-looking blondes in Hollywood but Kirsten had something different about her. Maybe it was the fact that her hair was a natural colour of spun gold, maybe the fact that her figure was all her own as well, no silicone implants required for that slender, yet very shapely body. Or maybe it was just the quiet intelligence that shone from her eyes when she looked up. Whatever it was, she still had a style that held his attention. He hurriedly returned his gaze to the menu as she reached the doorway of the restaurant, before she could catch him watching her.

He heard her accent, clearly discernible, from the front reservation desk. Even though she had been living in the States from the age of eleven, the low husky voice still held the traces of her English accent. It brought back a flood of memories.

Then she stood next to his table and he could smell the scent of her perfume, warm, familiar, very evocative.

He stood up slowly and their eyes met for the second time that morning.

‘Hello, Kirsten,’ he smiled.

‘Cal…’ His name sounded uncomfortable on her lips and to say she looked shocked was putting it mildly. She glanced over at the waiter. ‘I think there has been some mistake,’ she said, sounding slightly breathless. ‘I’m supposed to be meeting Gerry Woods; he made a table reservation for twelve-thirty?’ She looked past the waiter and around the restaurant, desperately searching for her agent. It was hard to see who was in the room because the tables were strategically placed for maximum privacy behind tall plants and exotic flower arrangements. The fact that she was in a blind panic didn’t help either.

‘This is Mr Woods’s table.’ The waiter pulled out a chair for her and waited politely for her to seat herself.

She looked back at the starched white tablecloth with its cut glasses and delicate orchid flower arrangement, then up into Cal’s eyes again.

‘Gerry has been unavoidably detained, but he should be here soon.’ Cal sounded nonchalantly at ease, as if their meeting was an everyday occurrence, when in fact they hadn’t seen each other for two years. Well, two years, one month and three weeks to be exact, she thought, hating herself for still carrying that useless information in her brain.

Cal sat back down and she was left with the decision of whether to sit with him, or to cause a scene and leave. Only because Gerry would be joining them soon, and she wanted to find out what was going on, she chose the former.

The waiter went through an elaborate routine of taking her napkin and shaking it out to place it over her knee, then he handed her a menu and distanced himself.

Her heart was thumping against her chest and she couldn’t bring herself to look Cal directly in the eye again. This was terrible…really terrible. She felt overwhelmed with an emotion that she couldn’t even begin to understand.

‘So how are you, Kirsten?’ Cal asked, reaching for the jug of water and pouring her a glass.

‘I’m OK…how are you?’ she managed politely after a moment. She forced herself to look at him again. He was thirty-eight, but if anything he looked even more handsome than when she had last seen him, his face still had that patrician, square-jawed, powerful attractiveness, and, although his dark, thick hair now had a few silver strands at the temples, they gave him a distinguished air.