Authors: Jill Mansell

Kiss (10 page)

BOOK: Kiss

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Chapter 10

By ten-thirty The Chelsea Steps was almost completely full. Sam, having concluded his brief business meeting with Toby Madison and reassured himself that all had been running smoothly in his absence, was reacquainting himself with old friends. Izzy, in her element, was engrossed in flamboyant conversation with a racing driver whose right arm was in plaster. Gina, finding herself briefly alone at the bar, wondered if she’d ever felt more uncomfortable in her life.

It wasn’t fair, she thought miserably. Everyone else appeared to be able to switch with perfect ease into night-club mode; was she the only one genuinely incapable of doing the same? As Andrew’s wife she had been an adequate conversationalist, if not a sparkling one, yet here . . . now . . . she couldn’t even begin to imagine how it was done. This kind of socializing was what single people did - it was what single people like Sam and Izzy evidently excelled at - but she had been married too long even to remember what being single was like. She couldn’t do it. All she wanted now was to be able to go home, crawl into bed and pretend that the events of the last few weeks had never happened.

Moments later, Sam materialised at her side.

‘That bad, hmm?’

‘It . . . it’s a lovely club,’ stammered Gina, not wanting him to think her a complete wimp. Gesturing around her at the midnight-blue-and-bronze décor, she said, ‘And it’s obviously going well. Everyone’s enjoying themselves . . . having fun . . . I’m always reading about it in the papers . . .’

‘You don’t have to feel guilty just because you aren’t enjoying yourself,’ he told gently. ‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have persuaded you to come.’

‘I don’t think I’m a terribly clubby person,’ said Gina, her expression despondent. ‘Izzy’s having a marvellous time and she makes it all seem so easy.’

‘She’s had plenty of practice,’ replied Sam drily, his gaze fixing upon Izzy. Shedding glitter at a rate of knots, she and the racing driver were now making their precarious way towards the bar in search of yet another bottle of champagne. As strong as his initial attraction had been towards her, Sam wasn’t blind to her faults and keeping Gina company was the least she could have done, under the circumstances. Taking Gina’s arm, he said, ‘Come on, let’s go home.’

She looked alarmed. ‘We can’t leave Izzy.’

‘Why not?’ said Sam evenly. ‘She left you.’

The thought of Sam and Izzy having an affair had filled Gina with horror, but the prospect of friction between them was even more unnerving. Leaping to Izzy’s defence, she said, ‘Only for a couple of minutes, truly.’

He grinned. ‘Don’t panic, I’m not suggesting you kick her out into the streets. I’m just saying that she can be a bit thoughtless now and again. Loyal,’ he conceded, the memory of her verbal attack on him last night still fresh in his mind, ‘but still thoughtless, nevertheless.’

‘But we
can’t
abandon her,’ Gina protested miserably. ‘And you don’t want to leave either. Why don’t I just get a cab? I’ll be fine, really I will.’

‘Oh shut up,’ said Sam, his tone affectionate. ‘Come on, we’ll tell Izzy we’re going. She’s a big girl, I’m sure she can find her own way home.’

Only Katerina Van Asch, thought Simon with rising frustration, could spend three solid hours discussing - in dizzying detail - the human reproductive process and not even spare a thought for the effect it might be having on her partner-in-revision.

‘So,’ she was saying now, as she stretched across the velvety carpet for the saucer of Liquorice Allsorts, ‘let’s just run through it again. I’m still not quite happy about testosterone levels.’

Simon wasn’t happy about his own testosterone levels, which were skyrocketing; he was sure it couldn’t be good for his health. Hauling himself into a sitting position he cast her a reproachful look.

‘What?’ said Katerina, twisting on to her side and meeting his gaze. Even in her frayed orange sweatshirt, khaki combats and holey green socks she looked irresistible. ‘Simon, whatever’s the matter with you tonight? You really aren’t concentrating at all.’

Plucking up as much courage as he possessed, Simon pushed back his straight blond hair and said, ‘Do you think it would be sensible to take an important maths exam without ever having worked out a single mathematical equation?’

He really was in an odd mood tonight, decided Katerina. Humoring him, she replied obediently, ‘No, of course it wouldn’t.’

‘Or . . . a chemistry exam, when you’ve never conducted an actual chemical experiment yourself?’

‘No.’

‘Yet you expect to pass biology purely on the strength of what you’ve learned from books,’ he persisted, flushing slightly. ‘Doesn’t that seem . . . illogical?’

Having considered his argument for a few seconds, Katerina broke into a broad smile. ‘You mean I should murder you, then dissect your body with Gina’s best carving knife and eyebrow tweezers? Simon, it’s a generous offer, but—’

The next moment his arms were around her, his mouth fastening upon hers and his frantically racing heart pounding against her chest. Astonished, Katerina almost laughed out loud but sensed it wouldn’t be the diplomatic thing to do. She might be lacking in experience but even she knew that kissing and laughter didn’t mix. ‘I love you, Kat,’ mumbled Simon, scarcely able to believe that his dreams were at last coming true. ‘You must know how much I love you, it’s been driving me crazy...’

‘And you think we’d stand a chance of improving our grades if we got a little practical experience on the subject,’ she said, pulling gently away from him. If this was what sexual passion was all about, well . . . on the whole she preferred Liquorice Allsorts. ‘Simon, it’s lovely of you to offer, but I really can’t. It wouldn’t be . . . right, somehow.’

‘Oh damn,’ Simon muttered unhappily. Realizing that he’d well and truly blown his chances - maybe his only chance - with Katerina, he slumped back on one elbow and gazed morosely at the pile of books lying open in front of the fireplace. ‘I suppose you won’t want to see me again, now.’

‘Don’t be daft,’ she replied, smiling and passing him his half-empty can of lager. ‘You’re my best friend, aren’t you?’

His expression still truculent, he said, ‘I’d rather be your boyfriend.’

‘No, you wouldn’t.’ She squeezed his hand. ‘I’m a seventeen-year-old virgin and probably frigid to boot. There’s nothing I can do about it; maybe subconsciously I’m rebelling against my upbringing. But it isn’t your fault, OK?’ she persisted, more forcefully this time. ‘It’s mine.’

‘One day,’ said Simon with resignation, ‘some man will come along and sweep you off your feet and you won’t know what’s hit you.’

‘He won’t know what’s hit him,’ Katerina replied briskly. ‘But it’ll probably be my physics textbook. I’ve told you, Simon, I’m really not cut out for all that love-and-sex business. It just isn’t
me
.’

There was nothing like a bit of good, old-fashioned sexual attraction to put a spring in one’s step, thought Izzy, gazing down at her decidedly unspringy left leg the following morning. But although the sexual attraction was still there - on her part, at least - last night’s plan appeared to have misfired in somewhat spectacular fashion. By chatting to Nicky Holmes-Pierce, cavalier racing driver and ex-husband of one of her oldest friends, she had hoped to prove to Sam that she wasn’t overkeen on him and at the same time pique his interest. Instead, however, he had simply left the club with Gina and so far this morning had seemed totally unpiqued. And she’d put make-up on, too.

Now, with the sun streaming through the kitchen windows, he was ignoring her totally, poring instead over a pile of estate agents’ details spread across the kitchen table. With Gina out shopping and Katerina at school, their previous easy camaraderie appeared to be in genuine danger of evaporating completely. Izzy was in danger of losing all faith in Mills and Boon.

‘I could help you look for a flat, if you like,’ she offered, swinging her good leg against her stool and making an effort to redress the balance.

Without even glancing up at her, Sam said, ‘I’d have thought you’d be too busy, looking for some kind of job.’

Charming, thought Izzy. Aloud, she said idly, ‘Why, is Gina worried about her rent?’

‘She hasn’t said anything,’ Sam replied in even tones. ‘She’s too well mannered. Maybe that’s why I thought I should mention it.’

Flicking her hair away from her face, she said crossly, ‘I did
have
a job, right up until the moment when this terribly well mannered madwoman hurtled into my life. The accident wasn’t my fault, you know.’

‘I know.’ Sam smiled slightly, because she looked so indignant. But he wasn’t to be deflected. ‘And I’m sure you wouldn’t take advantage of her generosity,’ he continued, more gently now. ‘But I’m very fond of Gina and she’s had a rough time of it recently. She needs as much support as she can get.’

‘I’m not an underwired bra,’ Izzy retorted, her dark eyes flashing.

You aren’t wearing one either, thought Sam, admiring the faint outline of her breasts beneath the khaki army surplus shirt. Picking up the list of addresses, he rose to his feet. ‘OK, don’t sulk. Do you want to come with me or not?’

‘Are you going to be beastly to me?’ Izzy regarded him with suspicion.

‘Only if it’s what you really want.’

The tension had melted. She grinned, suddenly. ‘I’d prefer outrageous flattery, if you could manage it.’

‘Outrageous flattery,’ mused Sam, his expression deadpan as he held the door open and waved her through. ‘In that case I shall tell you that I heard you singing in the bathroom this morning, and I have to confess that I was impressed. Most impressed.You have an exceptional voice, Miss Van Asch, in fact a truly spectacular—’

‘Bullshit.’ Izzy burst out laughing. ‘That was Liza Minnelli on the radio.’

Chapter 11

Within two hours of setting out on a whistle-stop tour of select properties in highly desirable areas of London, during which time he glanced at and summarily rejected apartments which Izzy would have given her eye-teeth to live in, Sam found what he’d been looking for. Situated on the top floor of a chic but unflashy low-rise apartment block in Holland Park, it was light, extremely spacious and commanded spectacular views over the park itself.

‘Yes, this one,’ he said simply, returning from his inspection of the bedrooms and standing in the centre of the vast sitting room. Pushing his hands into the back pockets of his Levi’s, he gazed out of the floor-length windows at the park and nodded once more for emphasis. Then, turning to the dumbstruck estate agent, he said, ‘I’ll take it.’

Watching Sam choose a home had been an edifying experience. Izzy, thrilled by the ease with which he’d done it, said admiringly, ‘I’ve known men take longer to decide on a new shirt.’

‘Ah, but I know what I want,’ said Sam, his eyes glittering with amusement. ‘And I know what I like. So why waste time?’

With an involuntary shiver Izzy wondered whether - beneath that super-cool exterior - he wanted her. The thought was extraordinarily enthralling. Damn, she thought, she would have given anything right now to be out of this plaster cast . . .

Since it was lunchtime, they retired to a nearby winebar to celebrate. Sam raised his eyebrows when Izzy ordered a bottle of very expensive wine.

‘Don’t panic,’ she said mockingly, unearthing her purse from her bag and waving it at him. ‘We have the technology, we have the means to repay them. And it isn’t as if I could even begin to do a runner.’

Aware that she was making the gesture to prove a point, Sam waved acceptance and sat back in his chair. ‘OK, if you’re sure.’

‘I’m sure,’ said Izzy, greedily perusing the menu. ‘You aren’t the only one around here who knows what he wants . . . and what I want is lobster salad. Come on now, choose something wonderful. It’s on me.’

Sam raised an eyebrow. ‘Have you been stealing credit cards?’

‘Mr Sheridan, what a nasty, suspicious mind you have.’ She gave him an admonishing look, then winked. ‘Only little gold ones.’

‘So, tell me,’ she said five minutes later, ‘how’s Andrew? Did you meet the bimbo? Is it really the greatest love affair of all time?’

BOOK: Kiss

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