Outsider by Sara Craven Read Free Book Online Page B

accompanying Yorkshire pudding, which
    invariably put Grantham into a good mood. 'We're dining with Eliot.'
    'All of us?' Natalie took only one potato, feeling her appetite deserting her.
    'Yes, of course,' said Beattie briskly. 'Why, did you have other plans?'
    'Why, yes.' Natalie improvised swiftly. 'I thought I'd go into Harrogate to the
    cinema—the new Meryl Streep is on.'
    'And will be for the rest of the week.' Grantham unfolded his napkin. 'If
    Eliot's making the effort to cook us a meal, lass, you can make the effort to
    eat it. It's time you two saw each other outside those office walls, anyway.'
    He encountered a look from his daughter and said hastily, 'Now I'm not
    asking you to marry him—just accept his hospitality, and be pleasant about
    it. That isn't too much to ask.'
    Natalie cut up her food and pushed it round her plate in a pretence of eating.
    The office was safe, neutral territory. Meeting Eliot on his own ground,
    watching him play host in what had once been her home, was a frankly
    disturbing prospect. But one it seemed she could not avoid.
    'Oh, are you wearing that dress?' said Beattie disappointedly when Natalie
    came downstairs the following evening.
    Natalie glanced down at herself. 'What's wrong with it? It's a little basic
    black, the ideal thing for informal dinner parties—the saleswoman told me
    so herself.'
    'Yes, but how many years ago?' Beattie asked gloomily. 'Darling, it's really
    time you went through your wardrobe, and treated yourself to some new
    things. You're so slim and your hair's gorgeous—you could wear some
    really exciting things.'
    'If I had anything exciting to wear them for,' Natalie said drily. 'When I do,
    I'll consider it.'
    She'd deliberately chosen the black dress because it was on the drab side.
    She wanted Eliot Lang to see that her evening self was just an extension of
    her subdued office persona. Then perhaps she'd be spared any future
    invitations.
    All the same, she felt absurdly self-conscious as she followed Grantham and
    Beattie into the russet living- room. There was an autumnal nip in the air,
    and Eliot had kindled a log fire in the hearth. She loved the scent of
    woodsmoke. Tony had never cared for open fires, complaining they were
    messy, so they'd used a three-bar electric model instead.
    She sank down on to one of the sofas, watching the leaping flames as Eliot
    served drinks.
    'My own invention,' he told her, pouring out the contents of a cocktail
    shaker. 'I'm thinking of patenting it as the Wintersgarth Wallbanger.'
    'Or fuel for Concorde,' said Beattie after a cautious sip. 'This is lethal, Eliot!
    What on earth is in it?'
    'Let that be my little secret,' he said solemnly. He looked at Natalie. 'Care to
    take a chance, Mrs Drummond?'
    'Now this is damned ridiculous,' Grantham said forcefully. 'We're out of
    office hours now, so let's drop all this "Mr and Mrs" nonsense. Her name's
    Natalie, lad, and you know it.'
    'Yes, why not?' Eliot said slowly, his eyes fixed on her face. 'Shall we
    declare a truce?' He held out his hand, compelling her to respond. As his
    fingers closed round hers, Natalie found herself remembering with an odd
    inward shiver the last time he'd taken her hand—and seconds later, taken her
    mouth...
    For a long moment, the hazel eyes looked enigmatically down into hers,
    holding her gaze as steadily as his hand clasped hers. Then, as if some
    unseen chain had been snapped, she was free, listening to Beattie asking him
    if the picture over the bureau was an original.
    She'd wondered what kind of a cook he would turn out to be, and the tiny
    chickens, with their delectable fruit stuffing, and the wine-rich sauce soon
    gave her the answer. Even her father, who had been known to express
    opinions on 'fancy foreign muck', was reduced to appreciative grunts. And
    the blackberry mousse which preceded cheese and coffee was equally
    delicious.
    'Congratulations.' Natalie added her contribution to the general plaudits.
    'There seems