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The flash of light broke the spell. Just as she registered the clicking sound, James swore, short and crude, his lips barely moving. He stepped away immediately. Turned a final, fleeting, burningly cold glare at her as he exited. Liss blinked—forcing her focus away, suppressing the desire to follow him; instead she faced back to the party, lips twisting up automatically for the camera.
CHAPTER SIX
JAMES barely slept. The grumpy, headachy mood didn’t improve when he thought about the night before.
He should be working—making those calls. He should be concentrating. Instead he was hit with hideous memories. He remembered clearly his mother’s beseeching tones.
‘You know I love your father very much,’ she’d said.
He’d started walking.
She’d called after him. ‘You know I love you…’
He’d started running then. Yeah, sure you do, Mother. Whose dictionary were you looking up love in?
Family and loyalty clearly meant so much. Not.
He got out of bed and went to the gym. Still couldn’t stop thinking, sweating out old hurts, swamped with the threat of new ones. In his mind the past got all mixed up, the hurt, the anger of loss and betrayal. The humiliation of deception and discovery and being the last in the world to know.
His mother had done it. Jenny had done it. Liss was of the same ilk—needy for attention. One man would never be enough. He told himself and told himself—warning. And yet he couldn’t keep away. The drive to be physically near her was too strong. And even though he had spoken the truth last night, he felt guilty.
She opened the door, clearly surprised to see him. She looked him up and down a couple of times. Made him feel so self-conscious he put his hand to his chin. The roughened skin reminded him that he hadn’t shaved before showering.
‘Did you want a ride to Atlanta House today?’ It was kind of an apology. But most of him expected her to say no, sure she only did her ‘charity bit’ on the days when she had nothing better to do, or when there was bound to be an audience.
Her expression darkened. ‘Yes, but—’
‘I’ll take you.’
‘I can manage.’
‘I’ll take you.’ He overrode her—pleased because she was going, pleased with himself because he’d got to her place just in time. ‘Anything to carry this week?’
She jerked her head towards the black case by the door. He stepped forward, lifted his brows at the size of it.
‘What’s in that?’ he asked, hefting the case from one hand to the other so he could hold the door.
‘Just girl stuff.’ She wouldn’t look at him.
He wanted her to smile. ‘Like what? Movies? Popcorn?’
‘Pedicures actually.’
He paused. She looked at him then and he saw the flicker of amusement.
‘When they get big, sometimes the girls can’t reach their toes any more.’
It wasn’t something he’d ever thought about before and he wasn’t sure he wanted to again. ‘So you’re going to do it for them?’ The picture of Liss on her knees polishing someone else’s toenails seemed so unlikely he was about to laugh. Until he saw her defensively earnest expression.
‘I might not be so good at organising paper files, James, but I’m pretty handy with a nail file.’
Reluctantly he acknowledged the admiration filling him. ‘I never knew nail files were so heavy.’
The giggle suddenly bubbled out of her. It was such a nice sound and it shattered the heaviness between them.
‘That would be the foot spa.’ She giggled some more. ‘Or maybe the jar of salts.’
‘ Foot spa? ’
Her giggle became full-blown laughter and he found his slid easily from him too. She smiled at him then— just as he’d wanted her to. And all the bad feeling of the night disappeared.
‘It is a bit ridiculous.’ She looked rueful.
‘No.’ He shook his head at her, grinning widely. ‘It’s nice. It’s a nice thing to do. My mother does a lot of charity work but I don’t think she’s ever clipped someone’s toenails for them.’
‘No? She’s obviously not supporting the right ones.’ Liss twinkled. ‘What does she support?’
James shrugged, already regretting thinking of her, mentioning her. ‘Whichever is flavour of the day.’ The heaviness returned like a bad hangover.
Liss was looking expectant, waiting for more—all the way down in the lift.
‘She’s on a million committees.’ He eventually broadened—briefly. But he couldn’t hide the sarcastic undertone. ‘She keeps busy. She likes to be seen to be active on that circuit.’ Outward appearances were everything after all.
