British Bachelors: Perfect and Available: Mr

Or both.

He liked Darcy, he really did, but it had been awkward. He told Allegra what he’d told Darcy, which was the best excuse he could come up with at the time.

‘I don’t really want to get involved with Darcy,’ he said. ‘She’s nice but...well, I don’t see her fitting into my life, do you? I can’t imagine someone like Darcy out in Shofrar, and I don’t feel like being just a novelty plaything for her. I know most other men would give their eye teeth to be toyed with by her, but I’m not sure it would be worth it.’

It wasn’t really an excuse. It was true. Not that Allegra seemed to be convinced.

She looked at him strangely. ‘I doubt that Darcy’s thinking about anything serious,’ she said. ‘It would only be a bit of fun. Where does Shofrar come into it?’

‘That’s where my life is going to be,’ said Max stiffly, even as he winced inwardly at what a pompous jerk he sounded. But the words kept coming out of his mouth without taking the trouble of detouring through his brain. ‘There’s no point in getting involved with someone who can’t hack it away from a city.’

Meaning what exactly? He wasn’t surprised at the way Allegra’s face clouded with disbelief.

‘So, let me get this right. You’re saying that you’re not going to have sex unless you can get married to someone who won’t mind being dragged out to some desert hellhole so that she can play second fiddle to your career?’

‘Yes...no!’ What was he saying?

‘Isn’t that going to be a bit limiting?’

Max was beginning to sweat. He hadn’t felt this out of control since Emma had blithely broken off their engagement.

Emma! He grabbed onto the thought of his fiancée. Ex-fiancée. ‘Look, I’m not the sort of guy who goes out with models,’ he said with a tinge of desperation. ‘In a fantasy, maybe, but I really just want to be with someone like Emma. I think being with Darcy made me realise that I wasn’t really over Emma yet.’

Which might even be true. Not the realisation, which in reality hadn’t crossed his mind at the time, but that he was still missing Emma at some level.

Now that he thought about it, Max thought it probably was true. It would explain the muddle inside him, wouldn’t it? Max hated feeling like this, as if he were churning around in some massive washing machine, not knowing which way was up. Not knowing what he thought or what he felt. He hadn’t felt himself since Emma had wafted off in search of passion.

‘I sent Emma a text, just like you suggested,’ he told Allegra almost accusingly, and she sat up straighter.

‘Did she reply?’

‘While I was on my way to Darcy’s. So I was thinking about her before I got there.’

That was true, although he hadn’t really been thinking about Emma in a yearning way, more in a how-odd-I-don’t-really-feel-anything-when-I-see-your-name-now kind of way. Until a week or so ago, Max would have said that all he wanted was to hear from Emma and try to get back to normal again, but when he’d read her text he hadn’t felt the rush of relief and hope that he’d expected.

At least Allegra was looking sympathetic now. ‘I can see that would throw you a bit,’ she said fairly. ‘What did Emma say?’

‘Nothing really. Just that she was fine and how was I?’

‘Oh, that’s very encouraging!’ Allegra beamed at him and he looked back suspiciously.

‘It is?’

‘Definitely. If Emma didn’t want to stay in contact, she wouldn’t have replied at all. As it is, she not only responded, she asked you a question back.’

‘So?’

‘So she’s opening a dialogue,’ Allegra said with heavy patience. ‘She’s asked how you are, which means you reply and tell her, and say something else, then she gets the chance to react to that... Before you know where you are, you’re having a conversation, and then it’s only a matter of time before you decide you should meet.’

She sat back, satisfied with her scenario. ‘It’s a really good sign, Max,’ she assured him. ‘I bet Emma’s bored with her passionate guy already and was thrilled to hear from you.’

Max couldn’t see it. Thrilled. There was an Allegra word for you. Emma wasn’t the kind of woman who was thrilled about things. It was one of the things he had always liked about her. Emma didn’t make a big fuss about anything. She was moderation, balance, calm—unlike some people he could mention.

He looked at Allegra, who was curled up in the armchair, bright-eyed and a little tousled at the end of the evening, apparently unaware that her dress was rucked up, exposing a mouth-watering length of leg. When he thought about Allegra, he didn’t think moderation. He thought extravagance. Allegra dealt in extremes. She adored things or she loathed them. She was wildly excited at the prospect of something or dreading it. She was madly in love or broken-hearted. It was exhausting trying to keep up with the way her emotions swung around. Emma had never left his head reeling.

Of course, Emma was the one who had thrown up her nice, safe life for a passionate affair, so what did he know?

Max hunched his shoulders morosely. Women. Just when you thought you understood them, they turned around and kicked your legs out from beneath you, leaving you floundering.

Look at Allegra, who had just been Libby’s mildly annoying friend. He’d known exactly where he was with her. True, there had been that odd little moment a few years ago but, apart from that, it had been an easy relationship. Nothing about her seemed easy now. He couldn’t look at her without noticing her skin or the silkiness of her hair. Without thinking about her legs or her mouth or the tantalising hollow of her throat.

Without blurting out that she looked beautiful.

Max didn’t know exactly what Allegra had done to change, but she had done something.

Now she was fiddling with her hair, smoothing it behind her ear, grooming herself like a cat. ‘So have you replied to her?’ she asked.

‘What?’ Mesmerised by her fingers, Max had forgotten what she was talking about.

Allegra looked at him. ‘Have you replied to Emma?’ she repeated slowly, and Max felt a dull colour burning along his cheekbones.

‘Oh. No, not yet.’

‘You’re playing it cool?’

Max was damned if he knew.

What if Allegra was right? What if Emma really was waiting to hear from him? If they could miraculously make everything right, get married as planned, and go out to Shofrar? He ought to feel happy at the idea...oughtn’t he? But all he really felt was confused.

He met Allegra’s expectant gaze. Playing it cool sounded a lot better than not having a clue what was going on.

‘Something like that,’ he said.

* * *

‘Allegra!’ Max banged his fist on the bathroom door. ‘What in God’s name are you doing in there?’

‘Nearly ready,’ Allegra called back. Carefully, she smoothed her lipstick into place and blotted her mouth. She wouldn’t for the world admit it to Max, but she was nervous about the evening ahead. This dinner with Bob Laskovski and his wife was so important to him. She didn’t want to let him down.

Max had been in a funny mood for the last few days. Allegra had decided that hearing from Emma had thrown him more than he understood. He was in denial, but it was obvious that he really wanted Emma back. Why else would he resist Darcy?

It had been easier to go out and leave him to be morose on his own, and when William got in touch after dinner at Flick’s she had agreed to meet him for a drink after all. The whole relationship detox thing would never have worked anyway, Allegra decided. She should at least give him a chance.

William was good company, good-looking, and she enjoyed herself, and she wouldn’t let herself think that looking at William’s patrician mouth didn’t make her stomach hurt the way it did when she looked at Max’s.

Because there was no point in thinking about Max that way.

Allegra couldn’t even explain what kind of way that was, but it was something to do with a trembly sensation just below her skin, with a thudding in her veins that started whenever Max came into the room. It was something to do with the way every sense seemed on full alert when he was near.