Bittersweet Love - Cathy Williams [16]
‘Does he see it that way as well?’
Anna’s face went bright red, then white. For a second, Natalie thought that that fight which she had nervously dismissed earlier on as being a ludicrous over-reaction to the situation might materialise after all, but it didn’t.
‘You think you’re so clever,’ she muttered, ‘but if you make the mistake of trying to get your hands on Kane, then we’ll see just who the clever one is.’
Kane appeared at the door, his eyes flicking expressionlessly between the two women, but already Anna was smiling at him and Natalie herself had something plastered across her face which she sincerely hoped resembled a relaxed grin as well.
‘So nice to have had that little chat with you.’ Anna oozed from her stronghold next to Kane.
‘Wasn’t it?’ Natalie agreed, with as much control as she could muster, then she watched as Anna pulled Kane’s head towards her and kissed him, long and hard and without any inhibitions whatsoever.
Natalie felt the sting of tears behind her eyes, foolish, foolish tears, but not a flicker of emotion crossed her face. What does she hope to achieve by that? she asked herself angrily. Does she think that I’m going to collapse in a jealous, writhing heap on the floor? Or maybe, and much more likely, she’s just trying to let me know who owns who.
O’Leary appeared from behind them and shouted in exasperation, ‘Taxi’s here! Time to break all this up!’
Natalie just glimpsed Anna’s look of irritation as she turned away and couldn’t prevent a smile from crossing her face. Good old O’Leary, never one to be subtle. He practically hustled her out of the house, grumbling under his breath, turning around to yell to Kane that supper would be served in five minutes.
Kane shook his head ruefully at Natalie and strolled into the room, his hands thrust into his trouser pockets, his hair still slightly rumpled from where Anna’s fingers had been coiled in it. Natalie viewed him with distaste.
‘If I had known that I was intruding on something private, I would not have come here,’ she said coolly, walking towards the dining-room with him, but making sure that there was a good distance between them.
‘Intruding on something private? You make it sound as though you had caught me in bed with her.’ He laughed under his breath, obviously delighted at the expression of stiffness on her face, and Natalie wanted to scream in frustration.
‘I got the distinct impression that I would have if I had turned up a few minutes later,’ she muttered. ‘Or does she normally wander around the flat with her shoes off?’ God, she thought with an inward groan, I sound like a jealous wife. The last thing in the world I want to do is to let him think that I actually give a damn what he does in his private life, yet here I am, only a hair’s breadth away from sounding shrewish and possessive.
She glanced around the dining-room, and made a bright remark about the décor, asking him whether he had had it changed recently, even though she knew that he hadn’t.
‘As a matter of fact,’ he commented casually, ignoring her attempt to change the conversation, ‘she does tend to take her shoes off when she’s here. I suppose it has something to do with the ridiculous height of those things that she sticks on her feet. At least I don’t have to suffer the irritation of watching you hobble around the office in five-inch heels because you think, for some obscure reason, they look glamorous. You may have changed some things, but I’m pleased to see that others have remained the same.’
They sat at the table, opposite each other, and O’Leary brought them in their starters of avocado with vinaigrette dressing. Home-made vinaigrette dressing. He was, surprisingly, an excellent cook. She dug into her avocado and made light, non-threatening conversation with him, discussing what was playing at the theatres in London, what new films were out, food.
‘I really was surprised to see you in that restaurant the other evening,’ he commented suddenly. He had finished his starter and she could feel his green eyes fixed on her downbent head, surveying her.