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‘Robbie can have that effect on people.’ Megan broke with tradition and gave the other woman a quick, warm hug. ‘Have a wonderful Christmas lunch…’ She sneaked a look at Alessandro, following the movement of his hand as he rested it lightly on Victoria’s shoulder, and felt a stab of pure, unattractive, inappropriate jealousy. She pulled back as though she had been stung, her face hot. ‘Tell Dominic happy Christmas from me. It’s been nice…’ she smiled stiffly at Alessandro ‘…catching up. In case I don’t see you again, take care!’
And there was no chance then to prolong the farewells, as food was calling. In the sudden confusion of people heading to the kitchen, she was only aware of Alessandro, as he disappeared behind Victoria through the front door and off to his perfect, refined Christmas lunch.
CHAPTER FOUR
FOR Megan and Charlotte, Christmas lunch was not so much refined as chaotic, noisy and lively. The last guest reluctantly left at a little after seven, and by eight-thirty most of the detritus had been cleared away—or at least channelled into the kitchen to await further action. At which point Charlotte announced that she would be spending the night at her boyfriend’s.
Megan was relieved. She was tired, and she wasn’t in the mood for a post mortem of the day which would inevitably include lots of questions about Alessandro which Charlotte had been itching to ask ever since he had walked through their front door with Victoria hanging on his arm. She had managed to ask quite a few during the clear-up but Megan knew her friend better than most, and knew that given a few minutes’ peace over a cup of coffee in their sitting room, she would move in for the kill.
She had picked up the pieces seven years ago, and had a lot to say on the subject of Alessandro the rat. Hence why Megan had decided to tactfully omit mentioning their initial meeting. The only wonder was that Charlotte had managed to be reasonably polite to him earlier, and that was probably because she had been too busy rushing around.
By nine, then, Megan had the house to herself, and the full weight of her thoughts settled on her shoulders like a burden of lead.
It shouldn’t hurt, but seeing Alessandro with Victoria did. It had been one thing to contemplate over the years the sort of life he might have been having, the sort of women he might have been seeing, but to have the reality of his happiness thrust upon her was a bitter pill to swallow.
Worse than that was the fact that he felt sorry for her. And even worse than that was the sickening suspicion that she still had feelings for him—that she was still attracted to him even though he had derailed her life once before and ticked none of the boxes in what she considered her mental file of suitable men. He was arrogant, egotistical and driven. She liked shy, genuine and easygoing. But just thinking about him made her feel hot under the collar, and her nervous system seemed to go haywire the minute she was within spitting distance of him.
She wondered what the point of lessons was if you didn’t actually learn from them. Alessandro had dispatched her years ago, because he had been moving up and she wasn’t suitable to make the journey with him. She had spent a long time hating him, an even longer time trying to rid her system of his memory, and longer still allowing men to re-enter her life—men who were good for her, who boosted her confidence, who never implied, not once, that she wasn’t good enough.
The two guys she had gone out with had not been earth-shattering affairs, but they had been good for her. They had made her realise that there was life beyond the high-octane, high-intensity, high everything passion that had consumed her when she had been with Alessandro.
She had managed to reach a vantage point of inner strength. Or so she had imagined. One accidental meeting and here she was, back to emotional free fall.
It seemed ridiculous to still be wearing the small red dress, even though the high-heeled shoes had been dispatched to the black bin liner in the kitchen, along with the green tights. She had a quick shower, changed into track pants, and was doing a last-minute check to find anything that might be lurking behind doors, under sofas or wedged beneath cushions that might reasonably begin to smell unless immediately removed, when she spotted the jacket.
It had probably begun life on the coat hooks by the front door, but the situation with the coats had been a bit of a disaster. Too many of them and not enough hooks. Not enough space altogether by the front door, so some had been removed to one of the bedrooms upstairs, others to the little utility room at the back of the kitchen, and a few hung over the banister. This stray had obviously slipped through and ended up wedged behind the tall earthernware contraption which they used as an umbrella stand.
