Authors: Cathy Kelly
a Freudian slip! She didn’t want to be stuck with Simon so
her mind had instantly and unconsciously replaced him
with Max. This was ridiculous.
‘Greece,’ she sighed, trying and failing to put some
animation into her voice. ‘I’ve always wanted to go there.’
But not now, she thought silently.
‘Greece is so beautiful,’ Vida said mistily. ‘I remember
walking miles to see the Oracle at Delphi after this party.
We were all suffering from far too many cocktails and our
car had broken down, so we walked, in evening dress, to
the temple. We were insane to do it.’
Vida had many wonderful qualities, Evie reflected, and
thank God one of them was the ability to talk in a
stream of fascinating reminiscences about her life. Utterly
entertaining, she could keep a crowd amused for hours
on end. Cara and Rosie, engaged in a secret plan to give
Rosie a lot more wine than her mother would normally
allow, leaned forward over the remains of their dinner
and listened.
Grateful that the spotlight was off her, Evie sat back and
ran her finger around the rim of her wine glass. Her eyes
roamed the room listlessly, as if she hoped Max would
appear and take her away from all this talk of weddings
and honeymoons.
A tanned blond man, sitting alone at the bar eating
olives and knocking back red wine from a glass the size of
a goldfish bowl, was staring at her admiringly. When she
noticed him, he gave her a frankly appreciative look and,
picking up his glass, raised it in her direction.
It was amazing the effect the right clothes could have,
Evie thought ironically, giving him a polite smile back. She
felt like a duchess in this dress and yet the man she most
wanted to admire it, hadn’t seen it and probably never
would.
By dessert, Vida and a now tipsy Rosie were discussing
men as if they were two seventeen year olds instead of one,
and Cara, much tipsier, was telling Evie just what a lovely
man Max Stewart was.
‘He’s so kind to me,’ she confided, big dark eyes shining
with a mixture of booze and affection. ‘Asked me all about
my childhood and about how you looked after me. He
wanted to know about the whole family, really … It’s so
nice to meet a man who’s interested in you as a person and
not just as a pair of tits,’ she said, a certain gloom entering her voice. Ewan hadn’t thought she was just a babe with
big boobs, Cara knew that. He’d loved her for the sort of
person she was, but he hadn’t been able to understand
exactly what sort of person that was. All mixed up, she
realised sadly. Totally screwed up, incapable of having a
relationship thanks to that bastard Owen Theal who’d
shattered her confidence.
And Ewan had ended up giving her back that confidence
but she’d been too blind to realise …
No, she wasn’t thinking about him. She was over Ewan.
Finished, finito, ended. She needed another man to take
her mind off things. A man like Max would do it.
‘Do
you think Max likes me?’ Cara asked her sister
earnestly. ‘I think he does but maybe I’m wrong. He’s so
hunky, isn’t he? Gorgeous body.’
‘Yes, he’s gorgeous,’ Evie replied woodenly. What had
she been thinking of? Max would be so good for her sister,
he’d give her love, affection and the stability Cara needed
so desperately. Evie had a fiance, a man she was going to
marry. Cara needed somebody. Just then, a picture of
lanky, tousle-headed Ewan sprang to her mind.
‘What about Ewan?’ she asked suddenly.
Cara’s eyes filled with tears.
‘It’s over,’ she sniffed, fumbling around in her pocket for
a tissue.
Evie put a comforting arm around her sister. ‘You poor
thing. Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘Nothing to tell,’ Cara gulped. ‘He’s a pig, dumped me,
ended it. Well, I can tell you,’ her voice became flinty, ‘I’m
over him and I’m going to have one hell of a good time
now that I’m here. Vida,’ she said, interrupting a whispered
conversation between her stepmother and Rosie,
‘where are we going next? I want to party!’
The El Dorado nightclub was like a giant, purple velvet
lined cavern with smaller alcoves hollowed out from the
walls like intimate rooms surrounding the dance floor area.
A tail-coated waiter, bribed by Vida, led them to a quiet
nook at the back of the club where voluminous banquettes
were curved like fleshy Dali sculptures around glass tables
and they could watch the dance floor without being
deafened by the music. The dance floor was almost empty,
apart from a few youthful blondes shimmying in white
clothes that gleamed luminously in the disco lights.
As befitted a club where you had to pay a fortune just to
get in, the clientele was of every age imaginable, from the
very young to the very old. All of them appeared to be
very rich. The ice buckets on the tables contained bottles
of champagne and the handbags that lay close to their
owners on the plump banquettes were all Fendi and Prada.
‘This is some place,’ Rosie whispered in awe, looking
around.
‘I’m sure it’s far too sedate for you, girls,’ Vida replied,
waving a braceleted hand at a waiter, ‘but I’m too old for
most of the other nightclubs and this one was recommended
as being suitable for old dears like me.’
‘You’re not an old dear,’ said Rosie, horrified.
‘Look at the price of the drink!’ cried Evie, just as
horrified as she browsed through the leather-covered
wine list.
‘Double tish,’ said Vida, immediately ordering two bottles
of champagne. ‘It’s not every day my stepdaughter gets
married.’
Even Evie needed a drink after that.
Vida proved to be keen on dancing, especially when the
DJ played a rock n’ roll medley which saw half the club
abandon their cigars to get up and dance. Rosie and Cara bopped energetically, but Evie, despite the appreciative glances her copper dress drew, soon sank back down into
their corner and sipped her champagne meditatively.
She didn’t feel like dancing or celebrating. She felt as if
she was at a wake, where an old woman with white hair
would start keening any minute. She didn’t notice the man
approaching her until he was in front of her, asking in
heavily accented English if he could sit down.
Evie shrugged in a ‘do what you like’ way. She didn’t
care who sat where. She didn’t care about anything any
more.
‘You don’t dance with your friends?’ he asked.
Evie realised it was the blond man from the restaurant, the one who’d raised his glass to her. He was forty something, handsome from a distance. But up close his
face was a road-map of red veins from too much alcohol or
too much fresh air or both.
‘You want more champagne?’ he asked, eyes roaming
over her body lasciviously.
Aware that any positive response might be interpreted
as a come-on, Evie shook her head and slid back in her seat
away from him, hoping Vida or the girls would come back
and rescue her.
She didn’t want to be rude but she wanted to get rid of
this guy. Mr Red Vein moved along the seat after her, like a
giant spider after a fly.
‘You are too beautiful to be alone,’ he crooned.
Evie smiled nervously, then stopped smiling because that
would definitely be a come-on.
He stretched out a tanned hand and put it on her knee.
OmiGod, Evie thought with fear, this could not be
happening to her. Things like this didn’t happen to her.
Encounters with strange men in nightclubs happened to
glamorous women with exotic lives, not to boring little
mice like herself. Why had she ever wanted interesting
things to happen to her? She’d never wish for that again.
She’d never wear this bloody dress again either. The
crossover bit at the front was just asking for trouble.
‘I saw you alone and thought you must be lonely,’ he
said, fingers caressing.
‘Well, I’m not,’ Evie said hotly, wrenching her knee away
from him.
He laughed and gave her a scorching look that said, I like
women playing hard to get.
‘You British women are so sexy, so cool,’ he murmured,
eyeing her up as if trying to figure out how to unzip her
dress. ‘I bet you’re not so cool in bed, huh?’
Evie felt repulsed. How dare he speak to her like that?
He was disgusting, she didn’t want him anywhere near her.
His hand reached out again but she was too quick for him.
She slapped his face as hard as she could and shrieked:
I’m Irish, I’m not at all cool and I’m not interested. No, no
no! What part of “no” don’t you understand!’ She leaped
to her feet, banging her shin painfully on the edge of the
glass table in the process.
Whirling around, she walked straight into a giant of a
man who’d suddenly appeared at the entrance to their
nook, blocking off the light from the dance floor. Strong,
comforting arms closed around her and the cologne that
rose from the chest she was pressed against definitely
belonged to Max.
‘Evie, are you OK?’ he asked anxiously, holding her by
the shoulders and staring into her flushed, upset face.
“I am now,’ she said, weak with relief
She could feel Max’s hands tighten convulsively on her
shoulders as he stared furiously over her head at Mr Red
Vein.
‘So sorry,’ muttered the other man, taking one look at
Max’s athletic frame and getting the hell out of there.
Evie leaned against Max’s chest and laughed, relief
flooding through her body. ‘I thought he was going to
pounce on me.’
‘So did I,’ Max said grimly. ‘I’ll kill Mother for leaving
you on your own. She should have known you’re fair game
for every gigolo this side of Sotogrande.’
‘I am not!’ Evie said in outrage, pulling away and looking
up at him crossly.
‘Sorry.’ He pulled her back into the circle of his arms
and kissed the top of her head. ‘I’m not rational where
you’re concerned, Evie. I want to protect you from everything
and I should kill that bastard …’
‘Shush,’ she said softly, putting a finger against his
mouth to silence him. ‘Dance with me instead. I’d prefer a
dance than spending the night trying to bail you out from
the Puerto Banus jail.’
His eyes dark with longing as he looked at her, Max
kissed her finger sensuously. Evie felt her belly quiver with
desire, while her heart beat a fierce tattoo in her chest.
His head came down and he kissed her: a kiss so sweet
and tender she wanted to drown in it forever. His mouth
tasted of peppermints and his lips were soft as they moved
against hers. Then he broke away and led her by the hand
on to the dance floor, to a quiet corner where there were
only a few other couples.
The music was still fast and Evie could see Cara’s head
over the crowd, swinging rapidly to the beat, long black
curls flying. The people beside them were sweaty from
their exertions but Max had no intention of jiving. They
both knew they could dance beautifully together: they’d
stunned the crowd at Vida and Andrew’s wedding with
their Fred and Ginger expertise. But Max wanted to hold
her close this time, not trip the light fantastic for the
benefit of the clubbers in El Dorado.
Smiling, Evie put her arms around his neck. He wrapped
his around her waist, pulling her in deliberately close so
that they were moulded together.
She could feel her body crushed against his, feel the heat
of him as they swayed slowly, creating their own tempo
instead of jerking to the frantic beat.
As if he’d seen them and knew they wanted to slow
dance, the DJ let the frantic rock ‘n’ roll music fade, while
gently turning up something slow and melodic. Al Green’s
‘Let’s Stay Together’ rippled around the nightclub and
before long everybody else was dancing at their speed. Evie
let the music flow over her, exquisitely happy in Max’s
arms. He’d have a permanent crick in his neck if they were
married, she thought fondly, giving in to the impulse to
stroke the sleek, dark head that was bent low next to hers.
‘You look beautiful in that dress,’ he murmured into the
soft, dark cloud of her hair.
‘I wore it for you,’ she said simply. ‘I could have cried
when I heard you’d gone out this evening without my
talking to you. I wanted you to see me looking like this just
once.’
‘You always look beautiful to me,’ he said, ‘even when
you’ve just got up and are mooching around the kitchen in
your dressing gown, rubbing sleep from your eyes.’
Evie laughed. ‘That was yesterday, I bet. I was so thirsty
I had to go downstairs before my shower. I didn’t think
anyone saw me.’
‘You can’t hide from me,’ he said, fingers kneading the
small of her back. ‘I watch out for you, I always want to be
seeing you.’ His voice grew huskier. “I want to see you in
the morning after a night spent with me, so I can rub the