His star had been so promising, and then when the accident happened she had just felt so damned sorry for him, too sorry to take the final step and walk away even though she could see how he had changed, how they both had.
He was enraged and bitter at what fate had done to him but even those spells of anguish, of opening up to her, communicating, had dwindled away. She realised that they hadn’t really communicated in months.
Not, she thought as she tidied away her books and began getting dressed to leave the house, since he had broken down and sobbed like a baby on her shoulder over eight months ago. When yet again she had allowed herself to feel sorry for him, to struggle on with him, knowing that he needed her.
She had, after all, known him for such a long time.
In a way, the nightclub was just the right job for her, quite aside from the fantastic earnings.
There was no time to think about her own problems when she was busy scuttling around the tables, catching up with the other girls now and again so that they could share a giggle about their customers.
But their argument tonight had been different. Had had an edge to it that they had both felt.
Two hours later her mind was still harking back to it, when she looked up and there he was, the man, the stranger, sitting on his own at the back of the room, and her heart gave a sudden, illogical leap of pleasure which disappeared as fast as it had come.
How long had he been sitting there?
And now that she had spotted him, she became acutely conscious of her every movement until finally she had no choice but to walk towards him, even though he wasn’t seated in her patch.
‘What are you doing here?’
‘I told you I would return,’ he asked with the same slightly amused, lazy drawl that sent a shiver up her spine. ‘Missed me?’
‘Of course I haven’t missed you, and I also thought I’d made my position clear. I’m not for sale along with the drinks and the food.’ And, since there was no more to be said on the subject, she knew that she should just spin round on her heel and walk away, leaving him ample time to get the message once and for all. But she didn’t. She hesitated.
‘Why don’t we leave here and go somewhere a little more civilised for some coffee? I know a particularly good coffee bar that’s open all hours.’
‘A coffee bar that’s open all hours? Oh, please! And where would that be? On another planet?’
‘Actually, in a hotel that caters for men like me. Not, I might add, the lying pervert you categorised me as but a workaholic who keeps highly irregular hours.’ He raised one eyebrow, leaned back into his chair and proceeded to watch her very intently.
‘I don’t think so. Thanks all the same.’
‘You look exhausted.’
Three words that made her stop in her tracks, brought back the flood of memories of what had taken place between her and Frankie. Right now, there wasn’t a nook or cranny in her life that wasn’t exhausting. How had he spotted that when no one else had?
‘There are one or two reasons why that’s totally out of the question,’ Mattie said tartly. ‘And if you choose to disregard the ones I’ve already given you, then here are a couple more. I’ve only been here for an hour and a half and this is my job. Sorry.’
‘It occurred to me,’ Dominic said, sweeping past her little speech as if it was of no consequence, ‘that I don’t even know your name. What is it?’
‘Look. I have to go. Jackie will hit the roof if she thinks I’m muscling in on her customers.’
‘Why do you work in a place like this?’
‘I already told you. Now, goodbye.’
‘I’ll meet you at the exit in half an hour.’ He stood up, finished his drink and looked down at her. ‘Right?’
‘I’m not going anywhere with you! How much does it take to get through that thick skull of yours?’
‘I’ll sort it out with your boss.’
Mattie gave a short, dry laugh. ‘Oh, right. And how do you propose to do that? Put a gun to his head, by any chance?’
‘I’ve always found that strong-arm tactics never work.’ His dark eyes locked with hers and he felt that sudden surge of unexplained excitement once again. The same excitement that had coursed through him whenever she crossed his mind. Which she had done with puzzling regularity over the past few days.
Why? Logic told him that if all he wanted was a safe and enjoyable antidote to Rosalind, then he could find that anywhere. He certainly didn’t need to pursue a woman who had made her feelings patently clear from the word go. But logic was no match for what he could only put down to the thrill of a challenge, and challenge, he had grudgingly admitted, was certainly what she was.
Hence his reason for returning to the nightclub.
‘Leave it to me.’
Leave it to him! Well, why not? He didn’t know Harry and he obviously had no idea how strict nightclub bosses were when it came to their girls not skipping off work.
‘Sure.’ She shot him a caustic grin. ‘If you can pull that one off, then I’ll come with you to your coffee bar, by all means. But, since I don’t see that happening, I’ll just bid you goodnight and tell you that it’s no use your coming back here because the next time you won’t even get a conversation out of me.’
It was a little disconcerting to feel a tug of regret at the thought of that, but Mattie was nothing if not practical. Her life was just too full of problems for her to take another one on board in the shape of a man, probably married, because good-looking, well-spoken men like that were never single, who was after a little no-strings-attached fling with a pretty young thing.
She would make sure not to look in his direction again.
What she hadn’t bargained on was Harry calling her over ten minutes later as she was on her way back for a refill of champagne for a table of men who had already had far too much to drink.
‘I what?’ Mattie stammered, after he had said what he had to say.
‘Can take the rest of the evening off.’
‘I’ve just got here, Harry.’
‘Jacks won’t mind covering your patch. She needs to catch up on some lost earnings.’
‘How did he do it?’ Mattie glanced around her, seeking him out in the darkness and through the crowds, then finally returning her narrowed eyes to Harry’s flushed face. ‘Well?’ she demanded. Then a thought crossed her mind. ‘He didn’t…he isn’t…some kind of dangerous thug, is he, Harry? He didn’t threaten you, did he?’ She thought back to her throw-away remark about guns and heads.
‘Threaten me? Harry Alfonso Roberto Sidwell?’ He rocked on the balls of his feet for a few seconds, straightened the lapels of his jacket and gave her a superior look. ‘No one has ever dared do such a thing, Matilda Hayes, and don’t you forget it! No. Just said he wanted to talk to you, that this seemed the only time you could snatch. Gave me his card. Told me that if I ever needed any advice, just ask for him.’
‘Advice? Advice about what?’ She felt as if the ground had unexpectedly opened up from under her feet. ‘Relationships? Is he some kind of counsellor or something?’
‘Harry Sidwell has never needed advice on relationships! He’s in finance, Mats. Powerful man. Even I’ve heard of him and you know how much distance there is between the underbelly of