One Man's Mistress: One Night with His Virgin Mistress / Public Mistress, Private Affair / Mistress Against Her Will. Sara CravenЧитать онлайн книгу.
go back with him to his flat and he required an answer, she thought numbly, staring down at the white linen tablecloth. She could say yes or no. Nod or shake her head. Anything rather than sit as if she’d been turned to stone, her heart the only part of her body that seemed to be working, as it pounded unevenly away against her ribcage. As she tried desperately to think …
She was aware of the waiter moving away, but only realised someone else had taken his place when he spoke.
‘Good God, Justin. You’re the last person I expected to see here.’
Tallie glanced up, startled by the challenge implicit in the harsh drawl.
The newcomer was a youngish man, with a round, pug-like face, unbecomingly flushed as he stood over them.
‘This is a restaurant, Clive, and we all have to eat,’ Justin returned coolly. ‘Even you,’ he added, with a fleeting glance at their visitor’s overweight body snugly encased in its dark blue suit. ‘Please don’t let us keep you.’
‘Oh, I’m over there.’ He waved a vague hand. ‘Family party. They couldn’t believe their eyes either, so I came across to check.’
He paused. ‘Life treating you well, is it? Job … all tickety-boo and no regrets? You certainly seem to be recovering in other ways.’
Tallie found herself the unwelcome target of small, leering brown eyes. ‘Although, to be honest, she’s a little young for you, isn’t she, old boy? Bit fresh from the makers? I didn’t know you were into cradle-snatching.’
Justin beckoned to the nearest waiter. He said quietly, ‘I think Mr Nelson wishes to rejoin his friends. And cancel the soufflés, please. We’ll just have coffee.’
‘Oh, don’t run away on my account. Okay, sunshine, I’m going.’ This to the waiter, before he turned back to Justin. ‘Always a pleasure to see you, old man. And good luck to you, poppet.’
When he’d gone there was a long silence.
Justin didn’t look at her. ‘Tallie, I must apologise for that.’ His voice sounded odd, as if it were coming from some other, far-distant world. ‘I … I don’t know what to say. But I think … maybe … it would be better if I just … got the bill and found you a cab.’
He added, his face bleak with embarrassment, ‘I wish I knew how to explain, but I can’t. You see, I—I just didn’t realise …’
How young I am?
But you must have done, she argued silently as his voice tailed away. You had to know when you met me—the first time you took me out—that I wasn’t very old, or very experienced. Yet you asked to see me again. You let me think it didn’t matter …
She swallowed past the tightness in her throat. It hardly seemed possible this was happening to her again. That he was rejecting her as Gareth had done, and for the same reason. When, only a few minutes before, it had seemed she would be the one to choose how the evening should end.
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