Ben saw her mouth open to refute the husband part of that statement and he tapped her waist to shut her up. These two were being kind, letting her off the hook, but learn that he wasn’t her husband and she might be stuck with them for hours. She got the hint and let him lead her away before she felt obliged to say anything else and get caught up in conversation again.
Then she frowned at him. ‘Thanks for saving me. I’m sorry everyone seems to think we’re married. If it’s causing you any problems I’ll make sure word gets around that we’re divorced.’
His heart knocked painfully against his ribs. Funny but he didn’t care that people might think they were husband and wife. ‘You going to wear a sign around your neck?’
There must’ve been something in his voice that gave him away because Tori stopped and turned to stare at him. ‘Ben?’
He didn’t like the worry flaring in her eyes or the ‘we definitely aren’t married any more’ look—even when it was true and he had no intention of changing the situation. But for some inexplicable reason it rankled. ‘Come on. John and Rita are waiting for us.’
He still had to ask if she’d like to join them for dinner. His chances of her saying yes had probably gone down the tube.
But he hadn’t counted on Rita. After the women had swapped compliments on the results of their shopping expedition, which they were wearing, Rita quietly slipped in, ‘Tori, John and I found a delightful restaurant on our first night here and we’re keen to go there again. Would you like to join us after this is over and make a foursome?’
She’s going to say no, Rita. Ben held his breath and stared at an interesting spot on the floor.
‘That’d be lovely. You are talking French food, aren’t you?’ Tori’s voice lightened.
‘Is there any other?’ Rita drained her glass and gave Ben a wink over the rim.
He swallowed a laugh and looked for a waiter. ‘Tori, would you like a sparkling water?’
‘Please.’ Coolly spoken.
Still not completely back onside, then. Ben shrugged. That was okay. Dinner would be enjoyable and friendly with John and Rita there to keep the jokes and conversation rolling along. Hopefully by the end of the evening Tori would’ve got past this little hiccup in their oddball relationship.
‘Good, that’s sorted.’ Rita opened her handbag and pulled out her phone. ‘Tori, let me bore you with photos of our kids.’
Tori stiffened, gulped her water, then deliberately dropped her shoulders and leaned closer to Rita. ‘They’re gorgeous.’ She blinked, twice. ‘How old are they?’
Ben was fascinated with her reaction. Tori loved children. After all, she’d specialised in caring for them. They’d even talked about having their own family one day. He wondered whether Tori was worried that she might never have kids now. At thirty-six, her biological clock was probably ticking. Loudly, in fact. He winced. Not a lot he could do to help her out.
Dinner didn’t eventuate. No one had realised just how many plates of canapés were circulating the room, all too delicious to ignore.
After two hours Rita said, ‘I couldn’t eat dinner now. How about we go to the restaurant tomorrow night?’
Ben agreed. ‘Sounds good to me. The conference winds up late tomorrow afternoon so we’ll be left to our own devices anyway.’
Tori had relaxed. ‘To be honest, I’m exhausted. I’d have been a wet blanket at dinner. If we can sneak away I think I’ll go for a stroll along the promenade, get some fresh air.’
Rita’s eyes lit up and Ben had to swallow his disappointment. He’d been planning on asking Tori to take a walk with him—alone.
Rita said, ‘John and I have been ready to leave for a while now.’ She nudged John. ‘Haven’t we, darling?’
‘Been counting the minutes.’ The look of pure love John gave his wife twisted a knife in Ben’s heart.
Lucky man. It was obvious where those two were headed, and it wasn’t along the promenade. ‘See you in the morning.’
Tori gave Rita a hug. ‘Thanks for the shopping.’
Ben watched as John wrapped an arm around Rita’s waist and tucked her close while whispering in her ear.
Envy gripped Ben. I had that once—with Tori. Then anger replaced the envy. We threw it away. Both of us. What fools. What stupid, idiotic fools. Especially me. I could’ve found another way to cope with everything, allowed her closer and told her the whole sordid story, not just parts of it.
He strode towards the entrance, intent on getting away from people, but it wasn’t easy, with the crowd beginning to move in the same direction. It seemed everyone had a similar idea of hitting the promenade. As he waited impatiently to slip through the throng of people he felt a hand on his upper arm.
‘Ben? Are you going for a walk?’
He turned to Tori, growled, ‘That’s where I’m headed, if I ever get out of here.’ He turned back, ignoring the blink of shock on her face.
Her hand no longer touched him. He felt the loss immediately and glanced over his shoulder to see Tori pushing in the opposite direction. Her head was held high and that hair spilled down almost to her waist. Her shoulders were so tight they had to be aching.
‘Hell.’ He swore some more under his breath and followed her, finally catching up as she sank onto a chair at the table they’d all vacated less than five minutes ago.
As she reached for the bottle of water he lightly touched her shoulder. Yep, the muscles under that dress were tight enough to snap. ‘Tori, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have barked at you.’
‘Why not? It’s no more than I deserve for t
hinking you might want to spend time with me. It’s not as though we’re together any more. Sometimes over these two days I’ve found it hard to believe we let it go, you know?’ She didn’t look at him, instead concentrated on pouring some water into a glass. Most of the liquid spilled onto the table.
He couldn’t believe what she’d just admitted. But he wouldn’t be fooled into thinking there was a chance of a reconciliation. Tori had to be talking friendship, not full-on love. The problem with that was that reconciliation was not closure. He pulled out another chair and straddled it. Took the bottle and filled the glass for her. ‘Yes, I do know what you mean.’
‘This whole scenario is...’ she shrugged eloquently ‘...strange.’ She raised the glass to her lips.
Strange wasn’t a word he’d have used, more like tricky, but she’d got her sentiment across. ‘How would you like it to be between us?’
Tori spluttered into the water, wiped her mouth with an abandoned napkin lying on the tabletop. A bright shade of pink flowed into her cheeks as her gaze settled on a spot on the table. ‘If I said friends, that seems too insignificant, yet what else can we be? I’m trying not to think about it.’
‘You’re fibbing.’
She still didn’t look at him. ‘I know.’
Removing the glass from her shaky grasp, he wrapped his hand around her fingers and stood up, bringing her to her feet beside him. ‘Come with me along the Quai. I’d like some quiet time—with you.’
Her head lifted and those eyes that he used to get lost in locked with his. Deep emerald pools that sucked him in and wrapped a layer of warmth around his thawing heart. Eyes that reminded him of things he shouldn’t want ever again, was afraid to risk having again. Tori probably didn’t know it but her gaze twisted his gut and brought all the love and need he’d known for her charging through his head, his heart and his soul. So much for getting over her.
For the life of him, he could not release her hand.