Chances & Choices (18 page)

 
She smiled at him across the table and began to finish her meal.

"What did you call about, anyway?"

Claire felt herself flushing.  "Oh, nothing really.  I just wanted to hear your voice."

He leaned forward and removing her knife from her grasp, captured her hand in his.

"I'm flattered."  He drew her hand to his lips and kissed the tips of her fingers.  "I'm sorry I wasn't there."

She pulled her hand away, shocked at the electrifying tingle, which had nothing to do with friction, coursing up her arm at the brush of his lips.

"People are watching," she offered in explanation at the sight of his raised eyebrows.

He looked around the room and finally back at her, disbelief written all over his face.
  There were exactly three other couples in the restaurant, all on the other side of the room.  Even if they had been looking at Julian and Claire, in the darkened shadows, they wouldn't have been able to see a thing.  And there wasn't a waiter in sight.

He reached over and ran the back of his hand down her cheek.
  Claire was really confused when his second touch aroused the same tingling response.  She was surprised.  His touch, when he wanted it to, usually elicited a tender desire, not this sudden tingling of the senses.  The unfamiliarity of her response to him disturbed her.  She brushed away his hand and kept her eyes lowered to her plate.  He titled up her chin.

"Considering how we were occupied not much more than an hour ago, your shyness is rather surprising."

Her only answer was the lowering of her eyelashes.  This must have delighted him, because she heard his deep, pleasant laughter, and her heart began to somersault at the sound of it.  He released her chin and taking pity on her changed the subject.  Unfortunately, the subject he chose was not one Claire favoured.

"So, what happened at the office today?"
  She almost choked on her steak.

"Nothing,"
  she managed to croak.  It was stupid really.  She should tell him.  Not everything, but she should say. 
"Not much except, guess what?  You remember I mentioned Richard Blake once, well he's joined our staff now.  It's nice to have our own photographer."
 Then she would take a sip of her wine and look at him with clear, innocent eyes. 

Only she didn't trust herself, she felt too guilty.
  She would probably regret her omission.  He would find out sooner or later and wonder why she didn't mention it.  She didn't care, she would worry about that later.  She changed the subject again herself.

"This is a nice restaurant."

Julian sat back and looked around.  Yes, I haven't been here for years, but Susanna and I used to come here quite often.  It hasn't changed much."

It was a chance remark, one made without thinking.
  But it made Claire think.  For the first time she thought seriously of his first marriage, of his first wife.  She had watched Susanna's movies.  She came across as a vibrant woman, a passionate woman.  Had she carried that passion home to her young husband, or was it reserved only for her public?  Claire had never attempted to imagine Julian at a younger age.  Now she found herself doing so. 

What had he been like in his early twenties, when he first caught Susanna Ainsley's eye?
  Had he been full of vitality, throbbing with the vibrance of youth?  Had he laughed louder, dreamed higher, controlled less...loved more?  Claire wondered.

And so it was, with a chance remark, that the second seeds of doubt were planted beside the ones that had already taken root.

Claire added the finishing touches to her make-up before joining Julian in the kitchen.
 The table was set and he was at the hob cooking a deliciously fluffy omelette.  How ridiculous her comment about domestic duties the night before had been.  

She realised with a start that she had never cooked for him.
 The fact amazed her, but it was true.  She had played cook's helper to him on many occasions and at times he had cooked for her.  Probably because whenever they had eaten in it had been here in his home.

Claire corrected herself; our home now.
 Time for a change.  With firm decision she began to plan the meal she would cook for him this evening.  Everything fresh.  She would go to the market after work.

"What time will you be home tonight?"

He was placing the pan in the sink after serving the omelette.

"I'll try not to be late...dear."
 He looked over his shoulder at her, a stressed inflection in the last word, a definite twinkle in his eye.  Claire laughed and sat at the table.

"You'd better be careful.
 I might decide to turn into a nagging wife just to teach you a lesson."

Then she started to giggle, the idea of Julian as a hen-pecked husband proving too much for her.
 He looked across the table at her, an amused expression on his face.

"You're in a good mood this morning."

The kitchen was lit by the morning sun, and through the opened glass doors she could smell the fresh fragrance of the ocean.  In front of her was the delicious omelette, orange juice, and a basket of warm croissants in the middle of the table.  There were little touches, like the gaily chequered napkin the rolls nestled upon, and the small bowl of fresh cut flowers; little touches one didn't expect from a bachelor.  The artist in him, no doubt.  But then, he wasn't a bachelor, he was a widower or he had been; he was her husband now.  A wave of deep contentment spread through her.

"And why shouldn't I be in a good mood?"

Her tone was lightly bantering.  His lips twitched and he leaned over to kiss the tip of her nose.

"Eat, you don't want to be late for work."
 And then he began to heed his own advice.

The contentment left her as she remembered.
 Why did she have to be reminded now?  Why couldn't she have these moments alone with him, free from doubt?  Moments like these were so pleasant.  Even before their friendship deepened to love, she always treasured the intimate companionship of shared meals with him.  Now they were infinitely more precious  Why did they have to be spoiled by insidious doubts?

"Claire, what's the matter?"

"Nothing."

"Don't give me that, you look as if someone just robbed you of your most prized possession."

If only he knew how close to the truth his simile came.

"I'm just not looking forward to the drive."

He sat back.  "If it bothers you that much, perhaps we'd better look for a place closer in."

Claire swallowed.
 She would have to learn to hide her feelings better than this!  "Oh no!  I couldn't ask you to do that.  You love this place, so do I.  I was just a little upset last night.  There's no need for us to move.  I'll get used to the drive."

He eyed her as if unsure of the truth of her words.
 She returned the look unflinchingly; in this at least she told no lies.  He nodded, returning to his meal as if accepting her words.

"Alright.
 This place suits me, but we can always keep it as a weekend place.  I wouldn't want to move to your apartment in the city,  I'm used to a house.  Give it a little time and if you still find the drive too much, we'll find somewhere that suits us both."

Claire felt awful.
 It wasn't really the drive she was dreading, but he wasn't to know that.  Her feelings must have shown because he took her hand in his and spoke reassuringly. 

"Don't take everything to heart, Claire.
 All couples have adjustments to make.  Just because we knew each other so well and so long beforehand, doesn't mean we won't have to adjust to each other in some areas."

"You're right, but this isn't going to be one of them.
 Honestly, I'll get used to the drive."

He held his hands up in capitulation at the adamant tone in her voice.

"Alright.  Just don't think because you've been so definite about it this morning that you can't change your mind later.  While we're on the subject, have you decided what you're going to do with your apartment?"

Claire hadn't thought about it, but she found herself instinctively replying.
 "I thought I would keep it.  For a while anyway."

He nodded.
 "You're probably right.  You might not get a good price for it and we might find it useful to have a place in the city."

What he was saying held truth, but Claire knew that was not the reason she had decided to hold on to the apartment.
 It was a good idea to have something to fall back on.  No need for any hasty decisions.  Her heart sank when she realised the direction of her thoughts.  Were her doubts that strong?  The sound of Julian's chair, scraping along the floor as he rose from the table, interrupted her troubled thoughts.

"If you'll excuse me, I'll just go and finish dressing,"
 On the way past he stabbed a finger at her plate  “Eat!"

With a guilty start, she obeyed him.
 When she'd finished, she went to brush her teeth and freshen her lipstick.  Coming out of her bathroom, she saw him across the room standing in front of the mirror.  At breakfast, he had worn only pants and his shirt.  The collar had been opened and his sleeves rolled up.  Now the sleeves were pulled down and fastened at the cuffs, the collar buttoned.  He had his back to her, but she could see in the mirror that he was adjusting the ends of his tie to the correct length before knotting it.

His shirt was of a fine lawn, a pale grey with barely discernible maroon stripes.
 It stretched with his movements, his shoulder muscles apparent under the thin material.  Her eyes travelled down his strong back to the tapering of his waist, over his lean hips and his long muscled legs clothed in the charcoal pants.  When her eyes returned to the mirror, she saw he had stopped what he had been doing and his regard from the mirror told her he was aware of her admiring perusal.

She joined him at the mirror, her delicate hands taking over the task he had been about to perform.
  As she knotted the tie she was aware of a tension in the air, the intensity of which she had never noticed previously.  It was strange.  Surely she wasn't feeling uncomfortable in his familiar presence.  Not uncomfortable, she searched for a word to describe the emotion, but it eluded her.

Julian tightened the tie to its correct place and picked up the matching suit jacket from the bed.
  As he drew it on she could see his muscles flexing, and the tension increased.  He stood in front of her in the perfectly tailored suit, the maroon silk of his tie echoed by the handkerchief in his breast pocket.  Class, she thought, definite class.  His voice seemed to come from a long way off shaking her out of... she knew not what.

"If you don't leave now, you'll be late."

She shook her head to break the spell and picking up her purse headed for the door.  His voice came from across the room.

"Claire."

She turned.  His hands were in his pockets, one leg bent in a relaxed stance.  There was a tender smile flirting with his lips and his words flowed towards her like nectar.

"I love you."

She was in his arms in an instant.  After taking a kiss that would have to see her through the day, she stepped back.  Drinking in one last sight of him, as if to draw strength, she left the house, got into her car and drove to work.

She began to school her emotions almost as soon as she pulled out of the driveway.
 Today would not be the same as yesterday.  Yesterday she was taken by surprise, her guard down.  Today she was forewarned and as the old adage said, forewarned was forearmed.  Richard may hold as strong an attraction for her as before and she may not be able to do anything about it, but there was no reason for her to make a fool of herself.  At twenty-seven and a married woman, she should be able to hide her feelings.  It was not going to be easy working with Richard under the circumstances, but she would manage.

Remembering his last words before he had left her yesterday afternoon, she shivered.
 They had been so frightening, and that was what really worried her, that was what made her think there may be an element of truth in them.  If there were no possibility of truth she would be able to laugh them off.  She and Julian would have laughed over it last night.  
"Can you imagine, he actually thought I might prefer him to you, that I married you on the rebound, how ridiculous."

But; if it was so ridiculous, why was she dreading meeting him again, and why was she allowing doubts to spoil her relationship with Julian, and most of all, why had she not told Julian that Richard was working with her?

Could it be true?  Had she married Julian on the rebound?  He himself insisted they wait until she felt she was over Richard.  Yes, it was possible.  In fact, it had all the marks of a classic case.

Woman runs away from a relationship which is threatening to overwhelm her back to a man she has known for years and with whom she feels safe.
 The man courts her quietly, allows her to set the pace.  She mistakes the warm and tender emotions his kindness evokes for love and marries him.