Kathryn Ross - The Night Of The Wedding

As Kate made to leave the bedroom she noticed a pile of Stephen’s books sitting on the top of a chest of drawers. She really needed to start sorting things out, putting his stuff into boxes and clearing out the debris. She took out an old suitcase from the top of one of the wardrobes and dropped the books inside. Then on impulse she started throwing a few other things in. It felt quite good tossing bits of Stephen into a box—his football kit, his magazines, his dreadful pictures of motor racing. She was starting to enjoy herself when the front doorbell rang.

Nick was standing on the front doorstep, a bouquet of flowers in his hand.

‘Hi.’ He smiled at her.

‘Hi, yourself.’ She grinned back at him, feeling happier than she had felt in a long time. ‘You’re just in time to help me carry a heavy suitcase down the hall.’

‘Am I? Whose suitcase is it?’

‘Guess?’ Kate reached to kiss him on the cheek and was overpowered by the scent of lilies and mimosa. His arms went around her, delaying her momentarily beside him.

‘So how are things with you?’ He looked deep into her eyes, his gaze moving over her face, noting the hollows beneath her cheeks, the slight shadows under her eyes.

She felt her body tingle with awareness at his closeness. Felt her heart starting to speed up, her pulses race. ‘I’m OK, but I’m glad you’re back.’ Did her voice sound as breathless as she suddenly felt? Perplexed by the rush of adrenalin, she pulled away from him and led the way into the apartment. ‘Thanks for the flowers,’ she said, burying her face into their sweet scent and breathing deeply.

‘It’s the least I could do when you’ve offered to cook me dinner.’ Nick grinned. ‘So, where’s this case you want me to carry out for you?’

‘It’s in the bedroom. You can do it later.’

As he followed Kate through the smart apartment to the dining room, he noticed that she had lost weight, the pale blue skirt that used to reveal the delightful curves of her hips now hung on her.

‘So, what’s the news?’ he asked. ‘Have you heard anything from Stephen?’

‘No, I’ve no news on that front. I just thought I’d make a start and pack up some of his stuff for him so it’s ready if he calls by.’

‘I’d throw it out if I were you,’ Nick muttered.

‘I couldn’t do that.’

Why not? Nick wondered as he watched her walk through to the kitchen to put the flowers in water. Surely she wasn’t still carrying a torch for Stephen after the way he’d treated her? The notion angered him. He wanted to tell her to just forget the guy.

‘Anyway, I’ve started to pack things up, because I’m going to have to move,’ she said as she returned to put the vase of flowers on the sideboard. ‘This apartment is too expensive for me to manage on my own, so I’ve had to give in my notice.’

‘Oh, Kate, I am sorry. I know how much you love this place.’

The gentleness of his tone made her insides twist with a painful kind of longing. She shrugged. ‘Maybe it’s for the best. There are a lot of memories here for me, and I’m better to move on, forget them.’

He nodded. ‘Have you seen anywhere you like yet?’

‘I’ve only looked through the papers. I’ll start in earnest next week.’

‘Well, if you’re stuck you can always stay in my spare room for a while.’

‘Thanks.’ She wondered what it would be like to stay at his place. For a moment her mind flicked back to the night she had slept there. She remembered the way she had felt when they had been alone in the bedroom, and how she had forgotten where she was the next morning and raced out into the landing to answer the phone, only to find Nick standing there with a towel around his waist, his hair and his body still glistening damply from the shower.

‘It’s for me,’ he had said calmly as he’d turned and met her eyes.

She had found herself gibbering something, her skin on fire, as she’d wrenched her gaze away from the powerful masculinity of his body.

Kate met his gaze now and felt herself heating up at the memory.

Maybe staying at Nick’s place wouldn’t be a good idea, she told herself.

She glanced at her watch and tried to bring her thoughts back to reality. ‘Help yourself to a drink, Nick. I’ll just check on the oven and then you can tell me all about Paris.’

When she came back, Nick had poured them both a glass of red wine.

‘How’s work?’ he asked as he handed her the drink.

‘Fine. I’m working with a new author. He writes horror stories with a difference.’

‘What’s different about them?’ He took off his jacket and slung it over the back of a chair.

‘The fact that I’m actually enjoying them.’ Kate turned and grinned at him, a return to her old good humour lurking in the bright green of her eyes. It had been a source of amusement between them when she had got a job editing horror stories, because she had always disliked the genre.

‘Trouble is, they’re keeping me up at night.’

‘They are so page-turning?’

‘No. Every time I hear a noise I have to put the lights on.’ She widened her eyes in mock fear. ‘They are scaring the hell out of me. If it carries on like this you are going to have to come and camp on my settee.’

‘I’ve heard some excuses in my time from women wanting me to stay the night, but never one as corny as that,’ Nick said with a shake of his head.

‘Spoilsport.’ Kate laughed.

She sipped the drink and surveyed him over the rim of the glass. He looked tanned and healthy. ‘The weather was obviously good in Paris.’

‘Not bad.’

‘Did you have a walk along the Seine?’

He nodded. ‘Only as far as a little restaurant on the Left Bank.’

‘That sounds nice.’ Kate frowned. Had he been dining on his own? she wondered suddenly. ‘It’s not like you to make time for enjoying yourself on a business trip.’

‘Well, even on a business trip I’ve got to eat,’ Nick said with a grin. ‘Speaking of which, there’s a very nice smell coming from your kitchen.’

‘It’s only lasagne.’ Kate wished she had been adventurous and cooked something a little more exotic now. ‘It should just about be ready. Shall we sit at the table?’

As she carried the food through, Nick turned on the CD player and put on some music. He was very much at home here, Kate thought suddenly as she watched him. Yet she couldn’t really say that he was part of the furniture. His presence was too powerful, too disturbingly male.

It was a long time since they had dined alone. Usually when they sat in here it was at a dinner party surrounded by other guests. Was that why she felt a little on edge tonight, suddenly shy in his presence?

‘So, did you meet anyone interesting when you were in Paris?’ she asked as they started to eat.

‘Depends what you mean by interesting,’ he answered with a shrug. ‘The managing director of the company I’m dealing with at the moment was there.’

‘Oh? What was he like?’

‘It was a woman, actually. Clare Aidan. She was very nice, very easy to do business with.’

‘Was that who you had dinner with?’ Kate asked.

‘Yes, it was, actually.’

Kate imagined him walking along the Seine with a beautiful woman at his side and felt a prickle of something akin to jealousy stir inside her. The sensation made her most uncomfortable. It was over six weeks since he had split from Serena, she told herself sharply. Of course he was going to start dating other women at some point, she had done well to have him to herself for these last few weeks.

In all honesty, possessiveness wasn’t an unusual emotion for Kate where Nick and his girlfriends were concerned. Each time a new woman came into his life she felt the same old twinge inside, and she’d worry for a while if the new relationship would be a threat to their friendship. It was a side of her personality that she didn’t really like and always fought down, usually by being extra friendly towards his girlfriends. After all, she wanted Nick to be happy, and she’d no right to feel territorial about their friendship.