Grounds For Marriage. Daphne ClairЧитать онлайн книгу.
He came away from the mantel. ‘I’ll let you know. Julian said there’s no hurry...’
That last almost sounded like a question, but she didn’t comment.
Stopping in front of her, he put a hand lightly under her chin, stooping towards her.
Remembering the last time he’d kissed her goodbye, Lacey instinctively turned her face aside.
His fingers tightened, forcing her to look at him. He was close; she could see the fine lines at the corners of his eyes, and as she watched his pupils dilated, filled with dark fire. She saw her own uplifted face reflected in them, felt an answering lick of fire deep inside her, an unwilled hunger.
Then Tully released her and stepped back. His chest moved with a quick breath. Somehow he looked nearly as disconcerted as Lacey felt.
She stood up. ‘I’ll see you out.’
‘Don’t bother.’
He gave her another probing, appraising look and left her staring rather blankly after him as he strode out of the room. A minute later she heard the outer door close.
CHAPTER THREE
WHEN Tully telephoned her a few days later Lacey’s first hope was that he’d thought over her suggestion and decided to agree.
But instead he said, ‘I’ve been inveigled into taking part in a charity “Welcome to Spring” water derby at Mission Bay on Sunday. I thought Emma might like to come along and watch her. old man get a dunking or two.’
‘I’m sure she’d love it. I’ll ask her for you.’
‘You’d have to come, too. I don’t want to leave her on her own, especially near water. She could bring along a friend if she wants to, but they’d need an adult nearby.’
‘No convenient girlfriend at the moment?’ Lacey inquired rather dryly.
‘No current girlfriend,’ he confirmed. ‘So, are you free?’
On Saturday she and Julian had planned to introduce their daughters to each other over a Chinese brunch at a restaurant in the city and take them to a film. But Sunday they’d decided to spend apart. ‘I can come,’ she said. ‘What time shall we be there?’
‘There could be parking problems, but I’ve got a competitor’s pass. I’ll pick you up about ten.’
Emma had invited her friend Riria along, and they sat in the back seat of the car chattering while Lacey asked Tully, ‘How, exactly, did you get inveigled into this?’
‘I’m a ring-in. Some of the guys in the firm have been practising for weeks—we’ve been sponsoring their entry—but one of them came down with some kind of bug yesterday. It was going to be difficult finding a replacement at short notice, so I got volunteered for the job.’
‘It’s a team effort?’
‘There are some individual events but I’m part of a team, yes. We rack up points for every event entered, then the big one is the raft race at the end. Apparently anything goes, short of drowning the opposition.’
‘Sounds like fun,’ Lacey said.
‘It sounds highly uncomfortable. And I expect you and Emma to give due appreciation to my efforts for the cause.’
‘What do we do? Sponsor you? Lay bets on you?’
‘There’ll be people going round with buckets for donations. But I meant you can cheer me on... and cheer me up if we lose.’
‘What if you win?’
‘Ah! Then I expect the usual winner’s perks.’
‘I didn’t know I was supposed to bring a laurel wreath.’
He glanced at her. ‘It wasn’t a laurel wreath I was thinking of.’ His gaze slipped to her mouth briefly before he returned his attention to the road.
About to snap at him, I’m not one of your girlfriends! she stopped herself. He hadn’t said anything, really. And even if he had meant what she thought—which he had—it was only banter. That kind of thing came naturally to him; she’d been deflecting it for years without particularly thinking about it.
The day turned out to be a lot of fun, at least for the enthusiastic onlookers gathered on the grassy reserve along the beach front, and watching from balconies and vantage points among the houses and commercial buildings a road’s width from the beach. The Waitemata was dotted with small sailing craft dipping and twirling between the bay and the gentle distant slopes of Rangitoto, the island volcano that dominated the harbour.
Officially it was the first day of spring, and balmy sunshine promised a real New Zealand summer, but the water temperature was still wintry.
There were novelty swimming races for the hardy-or foolhardy—involving balloons, inflatable toys and various other props. Dressed in a wetsuit, Tully took part in a couple of those with his team, and they came second in a round-the-buoy relay. Emma was ecstatic when he returned to them after he had changed back into jeans and a woollen shirt, his damp hair slick and black.
To vary the programme a team of life-savers gave a demonstration, and there was a race between three long Maori canoes, their crews sporting the swirling blue patterns of traditional tattoos on their faces, most of them applied with ink but a few the genuine article. The event was one of the most thrilling of the day, the paddles flashing in and out of the water in an increasingly fast rhythm. Afterwards the winners performed a rousing victory haka on the beach, delighting the spectators.
Emma declared she was hungry, and Tully handed her some money and sent her off with Riria to the mobile stands selling hot dogs, chips, waffles and doughnuts.
He and Lacey stood watching the two girls thread their way through the crowd. A gust of wind blew Lacey’s hair across her eyes and she pushed it back, the movement catching Tully’s attention. He looked down at her and smiled. ‘Sometimes you look so much like Emma—or she like you.’
‘She’s like you!’ Lacey said, startled.
‘Her colouring, yes. But in the shape of her face she takes after you, and her hair’s fine and soft like yours...’ Idly he reached out a hand, lifting the strands and letting them fall against her cheek. Then, before she could do it, he carefully booked them behind her ear, his fingers brushing her cheek, lingering a little before he let his hand fall.
Lacey found it difficult to wrench her gaze away from his, and instinctively she took a half step back.
It’s nothing, she assured herself as she deliberately searched for and found Emma’s bright jacket. Tully was an attractive man, she’d always known that. It wasn’t the first time over the years that she had become momentarily—momentarily, she assured herself—acutely conscious of it. Few women would have been totally unmoved by him. Yet he’d probably be astonished if she told him that his casual gesture had made her blood race.
When the girls came back with the food Tully found a sheltered spot on the grass for them to sit on. Perhaps it was the presence of her friend, Lacey thought, but Emma was clearly having a much more enjoyable time than she’d had the day before, when Julian had taken them and Desma out.
The girls had eyed each other like a couple of wary puppies over the restaurant table, and while Emma was quiet and polite, Desma seemed to have an air of wellcultivated boredom.
During the film, a romantic comedy rated suitable for family viewing, they sat together between the two adults, and although they laughed at the comic incidents, when Julian enquired afterwards if they’d enjoyed it, Emma said without enthusiasm, ‘Yes, thank you.’
Desma had shrugged. ‘It was okay, I s’pose...’
As they parted, Julian’s rueful eyes had met Lacey’s. Well, they hadn’t