took Cory’s arm and walked her away, he murmured, ‘Do you want a few minutes to compose yourself before we join the others?’
Did birds fly? Her head was spinning and she didn’t know if she was on foot or horseback. She nodded, and the next minute she found herself ensconced in the cocktail bar, which was now almost completely deserted. Sinking down on to a seat, she said faintly, ‘What will you do to him?’
‘Don’t worry about David Blackwell; his type always come up smelling of roses.’ As the waiter came over, Nick said to her, ‘Another cocktail?’
‘Is it possible to have a coffee instead?’ She felt a little tipsy as it was.
‘Make that two, please.’
The waiter looked as though he was going to protest for a moment, but after a glance at Nick’s face he said quickly, ‘Two coffees it is, sir,’ and disappeared.
‘For the record, there have been no hand-outs.’ Nick looked her straight in the eye. ‘It’s true Martin didn’t want to relinquish the reins but we reached a compromise where we’re both happy. Unfortunately the guy’s too soft for his own good and has carried a lot of dead wood for years—like David Blackwell—so there will be changes to be made. I’m sure David’s got wind of that and is feeling threatened.’
‘I think he feels a lot more threatened now.’
‘With good cause.’ And then so suddenly that it made Cory catch her breath, his face changed, his voice warm and throaty as he said, ‘Thanks for being on my side out there.’
She didn’t know what to say. She shrugged uncomfortably. If he’d heard the bit about the hand-outs he’d been there longer than she would have liked.
Like before, he seemed to know what she was thinking, his voice now holding a thread of amusement when he murmured, ‘I especially liked the bit about me being a real man.’
‘A gentleman wouldn’t mention he’d heard that,’ she said, knowing she’d gone a bright crimson.
‘I thought we’d already ascertained that I’m not a gentleman.’ His smile lit the flame inside again and this time it burnt stronger.
Cory was very glad when the coffee arrived a moment later.
CHAPTER THREE
CONTRARY to what she had expected after the unpleasant incident with David Blackwell, Cory found she thoroughly enjoyed the rest of the evening.
When they returned to the table Nick said briefly that David was feeling unwell and had had to leave early. Which was true in a way. The other man had certainly looked green about the gills when they’d left him.
No one seemed particularly concerned or interested that David and Fiona were no longer with them; in fact with the young man’s departure the whole group seemed more relaxed and natural, in Cory’s opinion. She wondered just how much David had been whispering in people’s ears about Nick. A little yeast could very quickly work through a batch of dough, and David had seemed resentful of Nick as a person as well as an employer, as the remarks about Nick being popular with the ladies had shown.
Everyone stayed right to the end of the evening at three o’clock, whereupon they all declared they’d had a night to remember. Cory could agree with this as a good part of it had been spent in Nick’s arms on the dance floor.
She’d put the idea of going home in a taxi to one side. Somehow the episode with David had taken her and Nick beyond such a thing. Now, as everyone said goodnight amid hugs and handshakes, the possibility that Nick might expect more than a goodnight peck was at the forefront of her mind. It excited her as much as it scared her. She couldn’t get involved with Nick—every nerve and bone in her body was telling her so. He was way, way out of her league in every respect.
He’d probably not want to see her again anyway. Men the whole world over seemed capable of nipping in and out of bed with this woman or that without it really meaning a thing to them and, from what David had said, Nick was never short of female company.
But she was jumping the gun here. He hadn’t suggested bed. He hadn’t suggested anything.
Slow down, she warned herself silently. Stop panicking. You are a grown woman of twenty-five who is more than capable of taking care of herself in every way, not a fifteen-year-old schoolgirl.
They waited until all of Nick’s guests were safely on their way home in the fleet of taxis he’d ordered, and