Convenience

Part 44

David wasn't sure what was going on here. As he watched her, he thought she was weighing up her options. It was time to use his charm! Before she leaves. David can't remember the last time he had to work so hard just to keep a woman's attention.

Time for a new approach: Charm.

David continued blithely. "And it's a trade secret?" He teased before picking up his own glass. He could see from her body language that she was battling not to engage and yet at the same time her reluctance might encourage him. Clearly his wife knew him better than he thought, for she'd obviously realised that he liked a challenge.

Beatrice knew that David knew she was stalling. Beatrice sighed. He was teasing her. His brand of charm? Trying to be friendly. Five years too late, she wanted to shout at him.

Time to be up-front: Rude.

"I just don't see the point in us sharing personal information." She told him knowing she sounded rude.

His brow rose in quiet demand. "You have a date today?" Their marriage certificate was a contract, a business rather than personal contract. Dating other women at the time was not an issue, for he felt no guilt because as far as he was concerned there was no relationship. Strange how that thought had him reassessing.

He hadn't thought about her personal life in five years, and now, at the mere thought of her going out on a date, he was not happy. Which was ridiculous, as he had no rights where she was concerned. It wasn't as if he'd led the life of a monk himself. For the first time in five years he felt guilty about dating other women. For now he knew how she felt. It hurt. Knowing she might be out tonight with another man, hurt. He had no right to have those feelings, given he did not consider himself married. What he'd said to her was what he believed. Their marriage was a convenience contract. No feelings. No emotions. No passions. Until now.

"No. It isn't a date." Beatrice said in exasperation.

"No date." David stated flatly knowing that stubborn streak of hers was about to kick-in. But she was going to learn that he could be irritatingly persistent and determined.

Beatrice shook her head in annoyance, intuitively knowing that he'd keep pestering her until she confessed. She murmured, "I'm shopping."

He nearly laughed in relief. Shopping. She was here to shop. "Shopping." His eyes danced. That relentless gaze had her squirming some more.

David was pleased with the turn of events. It had not occurred to him that she'd come to Auckland to shop. How often had she come to Auckland in the last five years? And not once had she considered contacting him. He winced on the inside as he wondered if she had been in town when he had taken another woman out. Had she seen him in person on a date with another woman? Guilt hit hard. So did jealousy. He wondered whether she had a man in her life? A woman with her looks, her grace, her intellect, would have a man in her life. Obviously, she had him, her husband!

"Yes." Beatrice hedged. Sounding more and more like a petulant teenager, she thought.

"Shopping for your date? Going on a hot date?" He asked, and made it sound as if he was teasing her, when in reality he was curious and more than a trace jealous. Did she have a boyfriend? David tipped his head to one side and looked straight at Beatrice, "To impress a man? You have a man?"

Two equally stubborn people butting heads.

He was irritatingly persistent. Beatrice threw him a speaking look. "Why are you interested in my plans?"

"Conversation." He shrugged. Tension bloomed between them. Eventually he repeated his question, "A hot date? A boyfriend?"

"No." She mumbled.

"No?" He wasn't sure if he had managed to hide the relief he felt.

Beatrice sighed, feigned nonchalance, tried to look anywhere but at him, did her best to avoid eye contact with him, as she rattled, "I am treating myself to a weekend of shopping in Auckland. Indulgence. A treat. I earned it!"

His lips twitched. It wasn't what he'd been expecting her to say. David's eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled and told her, "Has anyone ever told you that you are far from predictable?" And why hadn't anyone told him in the last five years that he was being an idiot by ignoring his wife?