Driving Her Crazy - By Amy Andrews Page 0,38

with her and the pull to see an outback night again, to see it as he saw it, through a lens, was undeniable.

And what was she supposed to read into his sudden walkabout? Was it his not-so-subtle way of saying that he didn’t want to talk about what had happened?

That the kiss hadn’t meant anything?

That it had been a mistake?

‘Egg-white omelette?’

Kevin’s question broke into her swirling thoughts. She shook her head, her hunger pangs dampened by her confusion. ‘Just a cup of tea, please.’

Twenty minutes later she was knocking on Leo’s studio door in a similar shoestring-strapped dress to yesterday, hinting and skimming in a deep ochre like the colour of the earth outside the oasis that Leo had built for himself. It buttoned all the way up the front with tiny black buttons. Her hair was clasped behind in a tight ponytail. Strappy sandals adorned her feet. Dark kohl emphasised her eyes and gloss drew attention to her mouth.

It had been tempting to interview him in her travel clothes just to see that annoyed little crease he got between his brows. But she was a professional and she was working, representing Sunday On My Mind, and she wouldn’t compromise that.

And, in Leo’s presence, her career was like a shield against his poisonous words from the past, so she was going to armour herself in the full uniform and hold her head up high.

Leo pulled the door open. ‘Sadie!’

He pulled her towards him into an embrace, kissing her on the mouth before Sadie could take evasive action and lingering a little longer than was polite. She pulled back and noticed a fleeting look of confusion on his face before he ushered her in.

Light filled the room from the large windows and Sadie was struck again by how clean the studio was. She looked around for half-finished canvases stacked against the walls, drop sheets, preliminary sketches littering the ample bench tops. Even the familiar toxic chemical odour of paint, so inherent in his studio, was strangely absent.

‘I’ve never seen your studio so sparkling before,’ she remarked.

Leo shrugged. ‘I’ve never allowed a photographer into my space before,’ he said, indicating the studio looking even more cavernous with the usual chaos cleaned away. ‘Can’t have the public knowing what a pigsty I work in.’

Sadie noticed his very clean-looking hands again. The entire two years she’d lived with him Leo’s fingers had rarely been without paint stains. ‘Are you between projects at the moment?’

Leo nodded briskly. ‘I’ve set up some chairs over by the windows,’ he said, moving towards them. ‘Will that be okay for the interview?’

Sadie followed him over to the two low bucket chairs separated by a coffee table upon which there was a carafe of water and two glasses. Kevin appeared as she sat down, handing Leo his usual gin and tonic, and enquired as to whether she wanted something else to drink. She declined and he poured her some water as she rummaged through her bag for her notebook and her tape recorder.

‘Do you mind?’ she asked as she set it on the table between them.

Leo shook his head. ‘Not at all.’

Sadie felt ridiculously nervous as she started the interview. She knew the man intimately and it was hardly her first job, but she didn’t want to stuff it up. Leo had told her she couldn’t make it without him and it was imperative to prove she could.

She had.

Two hours later it was over and Sadie was exhausted from the polite pretence between them. Especially with Leo’s continual efforts to sabotage Sadie’s professionalism by spicing his answers with personal details of their past life together. Her nerves were at screeching point when she closed her notebook and pronounced herself satisfied.

Leo stretched back in the chair and looked at her for long moments. ‘What are you doing, Sadie?’

Sadie contemplated pretending she didn’t know what he was asking, but decided that playing coy wasn’t her style any more. ‘I’m doing my job,’ she said as she stuffed the tools of her trade back in her handbag.

Leo stood and held out his hand to her. ‘Come,’ he commanded.

Sadie looked up at his outstretched hand and cocked an eyebrow at him. ‘I beg your pardon?’

Leo sighed. ‘Let me show you something.’

After a moment or two Sadie stood ignoring his hand. She let him usher her over, his hand at her elbow, to stand in the middle of the room facing the painting of her. Neither of them said anything for a moment.

‘You belong here