Far From Perfect by Portia Da Costa Read Free Book Online

shaking Nick’s hand anew, then suddenly laughing and shrugging and giving him the sort of bear hug he’d definitely give a prospective son-in-law. Nick was the son Clive had never had, and, even though Anna knew he loved her unstintingly, had always wanted. It warmed her heart to see the fondness between the two men, but at the same time, she felt doubly angry with Nick for raising her dad’s hopes with his blatantly false charade.
    Oh, this is such a mess. It’ll end in tears. She manufactured a smile as Clive gestured for her to join them. And maybe not just mine, by the look of it.
     
     
    If a party could be judged to be both roaring success and an unmitigated disaster, this was it, Anna decided a while later as she circulated, clutching an untouched glass of champagne in her hand like a fragile lifebelt.
    The volume of conversation and civilized laughter was bouncing cheerfully off the walls and the supplies of hors d’ouvres, champagne and cocktails were holding up well despite the arrival of several more guests than had been expected for the sit-down dinner to follow.
    With a fake grin, Anna stared across the room, where the one guest she still wished hadn’t arrived was holding forth to a couple of adoring, simpering older women. Nick looked like a Renaissance prince with his own personal court of cooing matrons, she observed grimly. He was just shameless. He clearly couldn’t resist turning the charm on full beam.
    You really think you’re God’s gift to womanhood, don’t you?
    Hurling a quiver of silent daggers at him, she flushed pink when he glanced back at her, his knowing smirk suggesting he might have heard her thoughts.
    You arrogant monster! She only just stopped herself mouthing the words when he flashed her a hint of a wink.
    “They don’t call him The Golden Italian for nothing, do they?” said a voice in her ear, and she turned to find Lydia, her aunt, also studying the sight of Nick and his impromptu mini-harem. “Lord, if I were twenty years younger I’d take a crack at him myself,” Lydia sighed, quaffing quickly from her glass of champagne. “Not that he’d even look at me… He has other interests,” she intoned, tapping the side of her nose.
    “What, you mean shagging half the actresses and most of the supermodels in Europe?” snipped Anna, turning her back on the source of her ire to give Lydia her full attention. “Hey, I’ve got a bone to pick with you. Himself over there seems to know all about me and Martin and he says he’s got ‘sources’. What have you been telling him? How come he’s so au fait with my love life all of a sudden?”
    “What love life?” said Lydia dismissively. “You don’t count that uptight little mummy’s boy Martin as a love life, do you? Because if you do, you should seriously rethink your idea of what constitutes a lover, my sweet.”
    Lydia paused to wave to Nick across the room, champagne sloshing dangerously as she did. “ That’s what a lover should look like, pet. And the sooner you realize that the better.”
    “Martin is very—” a suitable adjective eluded her, “—very nice.” How half-hearted did that sound? “And of course Nick looks like a lover. He’s a serial womanizer with all the moral fiber of a wild boar in rut. What else would he look like?” She leant forward, trying to get Lydia back on track. “And that still doesn’t answer my question. What have you been telling Nick about me?”
    “You mean what has he been asking?” Lydia grew more serious. “I’ve no idea what happened between the two of you four years ago, but I know something did…and ever since then, he’s been coming to me regularly to find out what’s going on with you. I told him not to be an idiot and to ask you himself, but it seems where you and he are concerned, he’s just as ridiculous as you are.”
    The room was warm, but still Anna shivered. What was the hell was Nick up to monitoring her like that? He’d made it known in