Читать книгу Forever Bound - Elizabeth Coldwell - Страница 7

‘Thank you, don’t mind if I do.’ Zoe Lake slipped into the finely upholstered chair, making sure to keep her knees locked primly together.

‘Milk or lemon?’ Lady Tate-Fitzpatrick asked. In one hand she held a small jug, in the other a perfect slice of fruit, hovering over the teacup.

‘Oh.’ Zoe glanced at the other two women’s cups, hoping to get a hint about what would be best in this situation. She plumped for what she’d prefer. ‘Milk, please,’ she said, smiling as demurely as she could. I am a businesswoman, I have every right to be here, these people are my clients, they contacted me. She’d recited her mantra so many times since she got the call to measure up Lady Fitzpatrick’s windows for new curtains that she knew it now by its rhythm rather than the words. She’d gone around all four public rooms, each with two huge bay windows, and dutifully and very carefully measured the lot. Her notes were stowed away carefully in her leather briefcase on the Persian rug by her side. Lady Tate-Fitzpatrick’s friend had come along to oversee and advise. ‘I have appalling taste,’ Lady TP had stated by way of explaining the other woman’s presence.

Four or five home-interior magazines lay fanned out on the coffee table before them. The Lady reached out with perfect poise and picked one up. ‘Well, I suppose we should really think about colour schemes and fabrics. Did you bring your sample book?’ she said in the brusque tone that Zoe was only just getting used to. Every time the Lady addressed her, it felt as if she was administering a sharp slap on the hand, and Zoe had to remind herself, every time, that this was just her way.

‘Yes, of course, it’s in my car, I won’t be a sec,’ she said, flustered that she’d forgot to bring it in. She rose from her seat and, as she was making her way across the rug, the door opened and a striking silver-haired man popped his head around and addressed the women.

‘Are you done yet? I can’t be doing with every Tom, Dick and Harry’s car cluttering up my driveway …’

Zoe’s breath caught at the back of her throat. She couldn’t believe how rude the man had been, and in any other circumstance she would have told him exactly what she thought of his behaviour, but something about the situation made her nervy as a schoolgirl.

‘Oh, I … I’m sorry, sir,’ she stammered as she came close to him, ‘I shan’t be long.’ His eyes dragged their way from her shoes to her legs, thighs and stomach and lingered lightly at her chest before settling at her lips, which she self-consciously licked. It could only have been a footstep but she felt like the exchange had taken forever. What would his wife say, having her husband eye up another woman so lasciviously? What was he thinking? Zoe ducked under his arm as he held the door open for her, never taking his gaze from her. Crunching her fists and shutting her eyes for a moment, she composed herself, then walked off down the hallway, knowing full well that he was watching her backside and legs. The skin at her throat and décolleté flushed and prickled at being under such scrutiny. But there was something else.