His Until Midnight by Nikki Logan Read Free Book Online

more in that sentence than the sum of the words. Two staff materialised behind them, unobtrusively cleared away the driftwood and shell remnants and left a small palate cleanser in their place. Then they were alone again.
    ‘So, my comments today can’t have been a surprise, then.’ She braved her way carefully through the next moments. ‘You knew I was going to end it.’
    ‘Doesn’t mean I’m going to acquiesce politely and let you walk off into the sunset.’
    Frustration strung tight and painful across her sternum. ‘Why, Oliver?’
    He swapped the cigar from the left side of his mouth to the right. ‘Because I don’t want to. Because I like what we do and I like how I feel when we do it. And because I think you’re kidding yourself if you don’t admit you feel the same.’
    The challenge—and the truth—hung out there, heavy and unignorable.
    A nervous habit from her childhood came screaming back and, even though she knew she was doing it, she was helpless to stop her palms from rubbing back and forth along her thighs.
    In desperation, she spooned up the half-melted sorbet and its icy bite shocked the breath right back into her. Oliver waited out her obvious ploy.
    ‘I—’
    Lord, was this wise? Couldn’t she just lie and be done with it? But this was Oliver staring at her with such intensity and it didn’t matter that he only saw her for ten hours a year, he could read her better than she could read herself.
    ‘I enjoy seeing you, too,’ she sighed. ‘You know I do.’
    ‘So why end it?’
    ‘What will people say?’
    Was that the first time she’d ever surprised him? Maybe so, given how unfamiliar that expression seemed on his face. ‘What people?’
    ‘Any people.’
    ‘They’ll say we’re two friends having lunch.’
    And dinner and sometimes a late supper to finish up with, but that was besides the point. ‘They’ll say I’m a widow moving on before her husband’s scent has even left the house.’
    ‘It’s just lunch, Audrey. Once a year. At Christmas .’
    ‘As if the people I’m worried about would give a rat’s what season it is.’
    ‘What do you care what they say? You and I will both know the truth.’
    She shot a puff of air between her lips. ‘Spoken just like a man with more money than a small nation. You might not care about yours but reputations mean something to me.’
    He shook his head. ‘How is it any different than what we’ve been doing the past five years? Meeting, spending the day together.’
    ‘The difference is Blake isn’t here any more. He was the reason I came.’
    He made it legitimate.
    Now it was just...dangerous.
    ‘Most women would be worried about that getting to the gossips. A married woman flying around the world to see a man that’s not her husband. But you didn’t care about it before you lost Blake—why do you care now?’
    ‘Because now I’m—’
    She floundered and he bent in closer to study her. ‘You’re what? The only thing that’s changed in our relationship is your marital status.’
    Her body locked up hard as awareness flooded his eyes.
    ‘Is that it, Audrey? You’re worried now because you’re single?’
    ‘How will it look?’
    ‘You’re a widow. No one will give a toss what you do or who you see. There’s no hint of scandal for them to inhale.’ But as she stared at him in desperate silence the awareness consolidated down into acute realisation. ‘Or are you more concerned about how it will look, to me ?’
    Her pulse pounded against her throat. ‘I don’t want to give the wrong impression.’
    ‘What impression is that?’ Cool and oh, so careful.
    ‘That I’m here because... That we’re...’
    He flopped back against the plush sofa, the cigar hanging limply from his mouth. ‘That you’re interested?’
    ‘That I’m offering.’
    Expressions chased across his face then like a classic flicker-show and finally settled on heated disbelief. ‘It’s lunch, Audrey. Not foreplay.’
    That word on those