Clothes littered the bed as she tried on and discarded one outfit after another. A white, dripping-with-lace blouse resembled nothing so much as an overdone wedding cake. The black trousers were too tight, her favourite red silk shirt had a hole in the sleeve and Maxine had spilt make-up down the front of her cream lambswool sweater.

Finally settling for a sea-green shirt and white jeans, Janey did her make-up and fiddled with her hair. After putting it up, experimenting with combs and taking it down again because the combs wouldn’t stay in anyway, it was still only eight-thirty. When the phone rang fifteen minutes later she almost hoped it would be Bruno calling to tell her he couldn’t get away after all. Her stomach could only stand so many jitters. She had been looking forward to the evening far more than was good for her. Bruno might not he married to Nina but he still wasn’t properly single, either.

‘Janey? Now listen to me. Get out of that old dressing gown and do yourself up this instant!’

Maxine was shouting into the phone to make herself heard above a background of loud music and roars of male approval.

‘Where are you calling from?’ said Janey. ‘It sounds like a strip-joint.’

‘What? We’re down at the Terrace Bar of the Manderley Hotel. My lovely cricketer’s come back to Cornwall and he’s brought the rest of the team with him, so I’m hopelessly outnumbered.

They’re calling for reinforcements, Janey, and as soon as ‘I mentioned a fancy-free sister they insisted I get you down here.’ She giggled. ‘In fact they carried me to the phone.’

Janey, listening to the ear-splitting whistles of eleven over-excited cricketers, said, ‘I can’t, I’m going out.’

‘Who with?’

‘A friend.’

‘Who?’ demanded Maxine.

‘Nobody you know.’

‘That means nobody at all! Darling, don’t be so boring. You wanted to meet new men and here I am, granting your wish with a dazzling selection ... they’re dying to meet you and now you’re chickening out. Oh, look what you’ve done to them. They’re starting to cry.’

From the chorus of boo-hoos now drowning out Maxine’s protests, it certainly sounded as if they had a collective mental age of around seven. Janey could only wonder at the amount of beer they must have consumed.

‘I really can’t,’ she repeated patiently. ‘I’m meeting a friend for a quick drink and then I must get an early night. I have to be up at five o’clock in the morning to go to the flower market,’ chanted Maxine, who had heard it all before. Janey, how many times do I have to tell you, there are more important things in life than getting enough sleep? These boys are raring to go. You’re missing out on the opportunity of a lifetime here!’

‘Then I’ll just have to miss out,’ she said firmly, so that Maxine wouldn’t be tempted to persist. ‘And I’m sure you can handle them all beautifully without my help. I’ll ring you tomorrow to see how your hangover is, but I really do have to go now. Bye.’

‘If I’d known we were coming here I would never have worn jeans,’ whispered Janey for the third time as they were finishing their meal. The black sequinned dress wouldn’t have been OTT after all, she decided, glancing around at the other diners. And she wouldn’t have needed to fumble under the tablecloth surreptitiously in order to loosen her belt three more notches.

‘Heavens, I haven’t eaten so much in years. This food is perfect!’

‘But not too perfect,’ said Bruno, who liked to keep an eye on the opposition. Looking pleased with himself, he said, ‘The mange-touts were a fraction overdone and the Bordelaise could have used a touch more black pepper. This Burgundy’s good though,’ he admitted, twirling the stem of his glass and sniffing the wine appreciatively. ‘Very nice indeed. I may have to order some of this for the restaurant. Nick and Tony would go into raptures over it.’

Janey, mindful of the last time Bruno had plied her with wine, was rationing herself severely. Determined that tonight she was going to stay in control — and awake -she shook her head as he held the bottle towards her.

‘Maxine was most impressed with the way you kicked them out the other night.’

‘Ah, well. I expect it made her feel important.’ Bruno looked amused. ‘I imagine it’s the kind of thing she enjoys.’

‘It’s what she lives for,’ said Janey dryly. Then, glimpsing the expression on his face, she added, ‘I know I’m being bitchy and disloyal, but I don’t care. Sometimes Maxine goes too far.’

‘No need to apologize.’ Calmly, Bruno leaned forward and examined the slender gold chain around her neck. ‘I’ve only met her once but it was enough to put me in the picture. I don’t think I’d walk too far out of my way for one of her dazzling smiles.’

It was reward enough to know that just one man was impervious to Maxine’s charms.That the man in question should be Bruno was positively blissful. Like a puppy yearning to have its ears tickled, Janey moved fractionally closer so that the fingers investigating her necklace could brush against her skin. When they did so, she experienced once again the delicious tingle of anticipation only Bruno’s touch could evoke.

‘I thought you’d adore her,’ she confessed, trying to sound matter-of-fact.

‘Then you don’t know me as well as you think you do.’

‘I suppose not.’

The green eyes glittered. ‘So in future, maybe you should leave it up to me to decide whom I adore.’

It was only Bruno, she reminded herself breathlessly, coming out with his usual banter. She wasn’t expected to take it seriously. He didn’t mean it.

It seemed, however, that he hadn’t lost the knack of reading minds, either. Trailing his fingertips along her collarbone he said, ‘Come on Janey, have a little faith.’

She gulped. ‘In what?’

‘Me. You never know, I might just be serious.’

It was what half of her longed to hear. Yet it was nerve-racking too. Relieved to spot the waiter approaching with their bill, she said, ‘You’re never serious.’

‘Never say never.’ Bruno remained unperturbed. ‘Who gave you that necklace anyway?’

‘My husband.’

‘Still miss him?’

Janey opened her mouth to say yes, because that was the standard reply, the one she’d been trotting out for the past eighteen months. But was it still true?

‘Sometimes,’ she amended. ‘It isn’t as unbearable now as it used to be. Whenever anyone said time heals all wounds, I wanted to punch them.’

Bruno grinned. ‘Good.’

‘Why, do you think I should have punched them?’

‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘It’s good that you only miss him sometimes. You’re getting back to normal.’

Right now, Janey wasn’t feeling the least bit normal. She was hopelessly attracted to Bruno and she was sure it wasn’t wise. And since it was by this time almost midnight she wasn’t likely to be feeling too normal when she woke up tomorrow morning either.

‘Here, let me pay half,’ she said, reaching for her handbag as he placed a credit card over the folded bill. She couldn’t bear to think how much such a spectacular dinner must be costing him.

‘Because you don’t think you deserve to be taken out for a decent meal?’ Raising his eyebrows, Bruno gave her a knowing look. ‘Put that purse away, for God’s sake. My name isn’t Alexander Norcross.’

‘Oh help,’ murmured Janey minutes later as they were leaving. Almost wrenching Bruno’s arm out of its socket, she dragged him behind one of the magnificent marble pillars flanking the main entrance to the hotel. ‘That’s my mother over there.’

‘Pity’ Bruno grinned. ‘For a moment I thought my luck was in.’

‘Sshh.’

‘Why the panic anyway?’

‘You don’t know my mother.’ Janey pulled face. ‘She’d interrogate you.’

‘She’s over-protective?’

No, just incurably nosey. Before you knew it, she’d be asking when we were going to get married.’ Edging a cautious inch away from the pillar, she peered across at the man with her mother. ‘I don’t believe it, they’re holding hands! This must be the new chap she was so excited about the other week, the one with the Rolls.’ Really, she thought with a trace of despair; if her mother had taken to frequenting five-star hotels the least she could do was wear a bra. That glossy white shirt was practically transparent.

‘He must be sixty at least,’ said Bruno, watching as they picked up their room key and headed for the lift. Grinning, he added, ‘Isn’t it reassuring to know that old people can still enjoy sex? When I was younger I was always terrified it might stop at thirty.’

‘I’m sure I’ve seen him somewhere before,’ whispered Janey, who could only see his profile. ‘I can’t place him, but he definitely looks familiar.’

‘He’s certainly familiar with your mother.’ Bruno’s grin widened as the lift doors slid shut.

‘He’s got his hand inside her shirt. Janey, did you notice that your mother isn’t wearing a bra?’

Chapter 18

Back at Janey’s flat, Bruno pointed out the splash of red wine on the knee of her white jeans.

‘You should soak them in cold water. Go and take them off,’ he said matter-of-factly. ‘I’ll make the coffee.’

Janey, standing in the bedroom and gazing at her reflection in the wardrobe mirror, wondered what on earth she was supposed to do now. Slip into something more comfortable?

Lever herself into another pair of jeans and pray the zip would stay up? Envelop herself in her oldest towelling dressing gown and furry slippers, surely the most effective contraceptive known to woman?

By the time she emerged from the bedroom Bruno had made the coffee, switched off the overhead light in the living room in favour of a single table lamp, and mastered the stereo. Ella Fitzgerald was crooning in the background and the cushions had been rearranged on the sofa.