‘How long have you known him?’
Stella was starting to wish she’d never begun the conversation. ‘A couple of months.’ Which was true, she reasoned. They’d been emailing each other since October.
‘What does he do?’
‘What does it matter?’ She stared at him, exasperated and confused. ‘Why do you care?’
‘I’m just making conversation. Finding out what’s been happening to you.’ But the expression in his eyes said differently. ‘Isn’t that what friends do?’
‘Yes, but we’re not friends, Dan,’ Stella said softly. ‘We haven’t been in touch for two years and I think we both know that was the right decision.’ Staying in touch would have been like squeezing lemon juice onto an open wound.
‘You don’t seem to have any problems being friends with my brother.’
‘Patrick and I have only ever been friends.’
‘Whereas you and I were lovers.’
His husky, sexy voice sent a white hot arc of sexual heat shooting through her body and Stella felt everything inside her melt. ‘It’s in the past, Dan.’ She stepped back, rejecting the fiery chemistry and her body’s instinctive response. ‘It’s not going to give us a problem.’ Picking up the equipment she’d come to fetch, she walked back towards the door. ‘We’re colleagues, that’s all.’
‘So you can work side by side with me and not feel anything.’
‘That’s right.’ The lie came easily, but they were wasted words because both of them knew the truth. ‘We want different things.’ It seemed like a good idea to remind them both of that fact.
‘Are you going to marry him?’
Stella opened the door. ‘I don’t know.’ That was true, she reasoned. She didn’t know. ‘And I don’t understand why you would even care.’
‘Are you having sex with him?’
‘For goodness’ sake, Dan!’ With a gasp, she pushed the door closed again, hoping that none of her colleagues had been walking along the corridor at that point. ‘What business is that of yours?’ Her eyes clashed with the burning fire of his and, for a moment, he didn’t reply.
Then he drew in an uneven breath. ‘None,’ he said hoarsely, running his undamaged hand through his hair like a man on the edge. ‘None at all. And if you are—well, I’m fine with it. That’s fine.’
Desperately unsettled, Stella held his gaze, not understanding what was going on in his head. They hadn’t spoken to each other for two years. He was seeing someone else. There was no reason for him to react with anything other than indifference.
Except that their relationship had been so hot and intense that it had left scorch marks on both of them.
‘I’m glad you’re fine with it,’ she said shakily, ‘because who I date is none of your business. Just as who you date is none of mine.’ Deciding that she’d never understand men, Stella left the room before she said something she knew she’d regret.
‘So you’ve never met this person? How do you know he’s nice?’ Alfie was kneeling on a chair in the stable, watching Stella as she tapped away at the computer. One of the kittens was snuggled on his lap.
‘We’ve been writing to each other.’
‘By email?’ Alfie looked knowledgeable. ‘I have my own email address at school.’
‘Really? That’s impressive. I certainly didn’t know how to email when I was ten years old.’ Stella scrolled through her latest message, scanning the contents. ‘He wants to meet me, Alfie. What do you think?’
‘Let’s ask Mary.’ He lifted the tiny kitten. ‘What do we think, Mary?’
‘You called the kitten Mary?’
‘It’s Christmas. The two I’m keeping are Mary and Joseph. They’re the marmalade ones.’ He kissed the kitten on the head and rubbed his cheek over the animal’s fur. ‘It isn’t safe to meet a stranger. My teacher says you should never give anyone your real name or address over the internet.’
‘Your teacher is right. You shouldn’t.’ Stella typed her reply. ‘And I haven’t given any personal details apart from my name. He wants to meet me in a pub.’
Alfie stroked the kitten. ‘What if you meet him and he’s, like, really yucky?’
‘Well.’ Stella didn’t reveal that she’d been wondering that exact thing herself. ‘I hope he won’t be. We’ve already talked about the things we like and don’t like. So we have a feel for whether we’re going to get on.’