Second Chance For Love. SUSANNE MCCARTHY

table. He had retreated back into those arctic wastes he normally inhabited, and yet…somehow she was sure she hadn’t imagined what she had seen in his eyes just a moment ago.

      Mind, it was so long since a man had looked at her with any kind of interest that she wasn’t sure if she would even recognise it now, she conceded wryly. But it had seemed, just for those few incredible seconds, as if he really was going to kiss her…

      Impatiently she shook her head. It was dangerous enough to let herself indulge in stupid romantic fantasies about him, but if she was going to start imagining that he might be remotely interested in her she was going to end up making a complete fool of herself.

      By the time he brought the coffee she had managed to reassemble some kind of mask of composure, and her voice was commendably even as she thanked him.

      ‘How’s the wrist?’ he enquired, sitting down opposite her.

      ‘Oh…not too bad,’ she responded with a flickering smile. ‘It still hurts a bit.’

      ‘You were extremely lucky,’ he reminded her.

      ‘I know.’ She risked a brief glance up at him. ‘I suppose I ought to report the accident to the police?’

      ‘I’ve already reported it. Jack’ll be down to talk to you about it when you’re feeling a bit better.’

      ‘Do you suppose they’ll charge me with careless driving?’ she asked anxiously.

      He shook his head. ‘I doubt it. Apart from Bill Wickham’s ditch, you were the only one who suffered any damage. You’ll need to put in an insurance claim, of course.’

      ‘It’s on my husband’s insurance.’ She couldn’t keep the edge of bitterness from her voice. ‘Personally I don’t give a damn whether he makes a claim or not.’

      ‘Even so, don’t you think you’d better ring him and let him know where you are?’ he enquired levelly.

      ‘He won’t care,’ she asserted. ‘He’ll just be sorry I didn’t manage to kill myself—that would have saved him the bother of going through a divorce.’

      Those hazel eyes were completely unreadable. What was he thinking? She hadn’t meant to tell him about her marital problems, but somehow it was a relief to talk about it.

      ‘Why are you getting a divorce?’ he enquired; there was a kind of empathy in the way he asked the question, and suddenly she was sure that he was divorced too.

      ‘Why not?’ She shrugged her shoulders, still trying to hide her hurt behind a pose of indifference. ‘He wants to marry his secretary, and who am I to stand in the way of true love? Besides, she’s pregnant.’

      He looked surprised. ‘Did you know he was having an affair?’

      ‘Of course.’ She was trying to make her voice sound cynical and hard, but she suspected it wasn’t quite coming off. ‘He has affairs with all his secretaries—it’s just one of his endearing little habits.’

      He laughed drily. ‘So why didn’t you leave him sooner?’

      ‘I don’t know,’ she admitted with wry self-mockery. ‘Habit, I suppose. And I didn’t have anywhere else to go.’

      ‘You don’t have any family?’

      ‘No—well, there’s my father, of course, but I couldn’t have gone there. I don’t get on particularly well with my stepmother.’

      ‘You could have got a place of your own.’

      ‘Yes, I suppose so…’ She looked down, swinging her foot in awkward embarrassment. How could she expect him to understand the way Colin had eroded so much of her confidence that she hadn’t believed she could manage on her own? She wasn’t at all sure that she could now—but at least she didn’t have to think about it for a few more days. She wasn’t well enough to leave Tom’s yet, and go to a hotel.

      There was a long silence. She could still feel his eyes resting on her, and a kind of shimmering heat had started deep inside her. Was he aware of the effect he had on her? She was fairly sure he must be—he was far too perceptive to miss the signs that gave her away.