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‘If I’d known you were coming I’d have rescheduled today’s meetings,’ Luke said regretfully. ‘What time’s your flight home?’

  ‘I haven’t booked one. I wasn’t sure what time I’d get to see you; so I was just going to go back to the airport and hang around for a stand-by.’

  ‘Look, why don’t I try and get as much done here as I can? You take the keys of the apartment and go and freshen up. Or go shopping or whatever . . . and we’ll go out to dinner. I’ll get Dianne to book you a flight for tomorrow.’

  ‘Liz will go spare,’ Devlin laughed. But the idea was very appealing.

  ‘Be a devil! I’ll risk Dianne’s wrath if you risk Liz’s.’

  ‘You’re on,’ Devlin said, smiling at him.

  ‘I’m really glad you came, Devlin.’ Luke’s eyes were warm.

  ‘So am I.’

  Luke bent his head and kissed her very lightly on the lips. It was like the fleeting touch of butterfly’s wings.

  ‘Go and have a lovely day to yourself and I’ll try and get home by four.’ He took a bunch of keys out of his pocket and slipped one off the ring.

  ‘The key to the castle. I’ll ring Raji the doorman and tell him to expect you. OK?’

  ‘OK,’ Devlin agreed.

  He walked out to the reception area with his arm around her shoulder, quite unaware that Dianne was glowering at them both.

  ‘See you later.’ He pressed the lift button. The last thing she saw was his face smiling in at her, and then she was on her way down to the ground floor, her heart as light as a feather.

  A huge fork of lightning streaked across the London sky and the heavens opened. By the time she had crossed from one side of Knightsbridge to the other Devlin was drenched. Laden down with parcels, she hailed a taxi, gave Luke’s address and sank gratefully into the back seat. It had turned out a horrible day, muggy and thundery. Maybe after the storm the air would freshen up a bit.

  She’d had a wonderful few hours browsing and shopping. There was nothing like a bit of a spree for lifting the spirits, she reckoned, especially since she hadn’t been on one for ages. She had bought herself a gorgeous kimono. It was black with splashes of pale pink and turquoise, and the sleeves and neck were edged in pink. She’d also got the pale pink nightdress that went with it. She’d need it for tonight, she assured herself, as she hadn’t come prepared to stay over. She’d treated herself to some silk and lace underwear while she was there. But the silk dressing-gown was exquisite, so feminine. It had just caught her eyes in the lingerie department of Harrods. Well, a girl was entitled to treat herself now and again, and it was certainly different from the terry-towelling robes she normally wore.

  While she was in Harrods, after she’d had coffee and florentines, she’d gone to the opulent foodhall and bought some provisions. She planned to cook dinner for them tonight. It was cosier than going out. She knew Luke loved home-cooking. Like her, he had to eat out so often that it was no longer a treat. Whenever she cooked a meal for him at home, he relished it. She’d cook him a steak-and-kidney pie. His favourite.

  She glanced at her watch. Two-thirty. Luke would be home soon. She was dying to hear what he thought of the Belfast project. She was so glad their tiff was over. It had made her downright miserable.

  ‘You got wet already, Madam.’ Raji, the doorman, held an umbrella for her as she alighted from the taxi.

  ‘I sure did, Raji. That was some downpour.’ Devlin’s clothes clung damply to her and she was looking forward so much to getting out of them and having a shower.

  ‘Mr Reilly left a message to say he’ll be later than he thought; he sends his apologies.’

  ‘No problem, Raji,’ Devlin said cheerfully. It would give her a chance to get organized.

  An hour later she was a different woman. Dressed in a borrowed shirt of Luke’s, she padded barefoot around his kitchen, making preparations for the meal she was going to cook. She cut the steak in cubes, sliced the kidneys and chopped an onion and parsley finely, adding a few mushrooms because Luke liked the flavour, and whistling all the while. She had cheated and bought ready-made pastry because pastry-making was not her forte. But the ready-to-roll stuff was just as tasty. She had parboiled the potatoes to make another favourite of his, roasties.

  In the distance, over towards Westminster, she could still hear the low rumble of thunder. It had stopped raining but it was still very overcast. Stepping out on to the balcony she inhaled the moist oppressive air. It really had turned into a horrible day and she was glad she wasn’t still traipsing around the shops. Still, she could not help admiring the panoramic view of London and the Thames that Luke’s huge balcony afforded. His penthouse was very expensive but he had worked very hard for everything he had and in her opinion he deserved the luxury.

  She hoped he wouldn’t mind that she had changed their arrangements about eating out. Anyway she had nothing to wear now: Raji had sent her clothes to the dry cleaners. The phone rang and she hurried back inside to answer it. It was Dianne.

  ‘Mr Reilly asked me to phone: he’s tied up at a meeting and it will probably be after five before he gets away.’

  ‘Tell him not to worry, Dianne,’ Devlin said cheerfully. ‘I’m in no hurry now that I’m staying over. Did you organize a flight for me for tomorrow?’

  ‘Mr Reilly has all the details,’ Dianne said in her snooty accent.

  ‘Great. Thanks. Cheerio.’ Devlin hung up and thought how lucky she was that as well as being efficient, Liz, her secretary, was very pleasant, and had a terrific phone manner.

  She decided she would set the pine table in the kitchen rather than having the whole works in the dining-room. Anyway, she wasn’t exactly dressed for a formal dinner! She grinned to herself at the thought. Luke’s shirt was enormous on her and the shoulders came down nearly to her elbows. She had tied one of his ties around her waist to keep the shirt ends from flapping when she was cooking. A more glamorous specimen it would be hard to find! But she didn’t mind with Luke. With him she could always be herself. He had seen her at her worst, when she had been so low that she wondered if life was worth living. It had been Luke who had got her going again and he was the one person in the world that she never felt she had to impress. He accepted her for who and what she was. Warts and all.

  After she had set the table, she braised the steak and kidney and left it simmering slowly, made herself a cup of coffee and went into the lounge. Flicking through Luke’s compact disc collection, she chose a Grieg compilation and sat back to let the evocative notes wash over her. She suddenly felt weary. She had been up at the crack of dawn to get to the airport and besides she hadn’t been sleeping very well over the previous few days through worry about the situation with Luke. It was bliss just to sit relaxed, listening to the beautiful music.

  That was how Luke found her, curled up in a corner of the sofa in his shirt and tie, fast asleep. He eyed her with some amusement and then followed his nose into the kitchen, inhaling the delicious aroma of the simmering steak and kidney.

  ‘Hmmmm!’ Luke’s eyes brightened. Trust Devlin: this was a much better idea than going out to dinner. To tell the truth he was feeling pretty bushed himself. That trip to Holland had been a killer and he’d found himself tossing and turning a lot at night ever since his row with Devlin. Well, at least that was over, he thought with satisfaction, as he turned off the heat under the pan.

  Twenty minutes later, he’d showered and shaved and changed out of his suit into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. He had just made fresh coffee, when Devlin walked into the kitchen rubbing her eyes.

  ‘Hi,’ she said, giving him an affectionate hug. ‘I meant to have your dinner on the table. I just fell asleep. Sorry about that.’ She yawned.

  ‘Only that it’s steak-and-kidney pie you’d be sacked,’ said Luke with a broad grin. ‘Do you want me to do anything to help?’

  ‘Yes: butter the brown bread for the smoked salmon. I’ll just pop the pie into the oven. It won’t take the pastry long to cook.’ She
busied herself with the pastry she’d already rolled out. She glazed the top with egg yolk, moved the roast potatoes, which were crisping nicely, down to the lower shelf and placed the pie dish on the top shelf of the oven. ‘Are you sure you don’t mind not going out? I thought this would be more homely and besides, I’ve loads to tell you.’ Devlin sat up at the breakfast counter beside him and took a cup of coffee. ‘Luke, I phoned my mother and invited her to lunch.’

  ‘Devlin, that’s great news. You won’t regret it, believe me.’ Luke gave her a comforting hug.

  ‘I hope not,’ Devlin sighed. ‘I hope we’ll be able to talk and that things won’t be too awkward.’

  ‘I’d say your dad’s pleased.’

  ‘Yes, he’s really chuffed about it.’

  ‘Don’t worry; everything will be fine,’ Luke assured her.

  ‘Do you want to hear about Belfast?’

  ‘Well, I can see you’re bursting to tell me. Just don’t get too excited. Don’t you think we should wait until Galway’s up and running first?’

  ‘Oh, but Luke, wait until you meet Arthur. He’s great! He’s done a thorough business plan, including one of the best strategic marketing plans I’ve seen,’ she declared. ‘He’s commissioned a survey in the catchment area to check our target market and find out about the disposable income of females in the twenty to mid-forty range . . .’

  ‘What about cash flow? Have you sourced the finances that will be required? What about the fitting-out costs? Are you considering buying or renting? What about the financial institutions? Will the banks want personal guarantees? Are the interest rates going to be fixed or variable?’ Luke, she could see, was enjoying himself. ‘Have you considered insurance cover? What would our break-even point be?’ Luke shot the questions at her like bullets from a machine-gun.

  ‘Of course I’ve considered all the factors – you’re not dealing with an amateur here,’ Devlin replied calmly. She grinned at him. ‘I was taught by the best. So you just sit there and I’ll get the figures that Kieran prepared for me; you’ll soon see whether Belfast is a good idea or not. Don’t forget,’ she added, as she slipped off the stool to get her briefcase, ‘the complex will be grant-aided as well.’ Stick that in your pipe and smoke it, mister, she thought smugly, as she fetched the papers. The business plan was A1 – she knew it. Devlin had learned a lot when City Girl was being planned, especially from Luke and her father. She had expansion in mind, and Belfast was her target.

  Dinner was a great success and, after reading her figures, Luke gave a cautious go-ahead to further work on the Belfast plan. Devlin was pleased; she knew Luke wasn’t doing it to humour her. He was a hard-headed businessman and recognized a good opportunity when he saw one.

  Nevertheless, she lay wide-eyed, unable to sleep. The nap earlier on had been a mistake, she conceded, but there was more to it than that. When she decided to fly over to London, she had wanted to safeguard their friendship. But more than that, much more, their row had focused her thoughts on what she wanted and needed from Luke and what he wanted and needed from her. For the first time they both wanted the same thing. And for the first time since her encounter with Colin, she finally felt she wanted to commit herself to a full and loving relationship. The only thing was: she was so nervous about it all. Beneath the veneer of sophistication she was very inexperienced. She had lost her virginity to Colin in a quick, furtive and painful encounter that had resulted in pregnancy. She had never had sex with a man since and she was a bit scared; scared that she wouldn’t be any good at it, scared that it would be like the first time, painful and terribly disappointing, and not at all like the wonderful thing it was supposed to be. The only man she trusted enough and wanted enough to try again with was Luke.

  She slid out of bed, slipped into the bathroom and washed her teeth. She caught sight of herself in the mirror, eyes as big as saucers, and smiled. God, people at home wouldn’t believe it if they could see the self-confident sophisticate now.

  She walked down the hall to Luke’s room, padded over to the bed and slid in under the sheets beside him.

  As he stirred and turned she whispered hastily, ‘It’s OK, Luke: it’s only me.’

  ‘Devlin!’ He shot up in the bed and switched on the light. ‘What’s wrong?’ He squinted in the glare. ‘Are you afraid of the thunder?’

  Devlin laughed. ‘No, I’m not afraid of the thunder.’ She met his puzzled gaze and said hesitantly, ‘I . . . I . . . um . . . well actually, Luke, I came to seduce you. But I’m not very good at this kind of thing, and now I feel a bit daft.’

  Luke lay back against the pillows and stared at her. ‘You are daft, as daft as a brush, and that’s why I love you, you mad nutter.’

  ‘That’s not very romantic – calling me a mad nutter.’ She grinned back. ‘Do you really love me?’

  ‘What would you think?’ He leaned up on one elbow and smiled down at her.

  Devlin shook her head. ‘Well, I guess if you’ve put up with me this far, you’ve got to feel something for me,’ she teased, feeling suddenly very happy.

  Luke leaned over and kissed her on the lips. ‘I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to. I don’t want to make you feel . . .’ He hesitated and his gaze softened. ‘I don’t want you to feel emotionally blackmailed. I won’t pull out of our partnership now or ever, no matter what.’

  She silenced him with a kiss, a fierce passionate kiss that surprised him. ‘I didn’t mean it when I said that. I’ve regretted it ever since. I love you too, Luke,’ she whispered. ‘I want us to make love. And you don’t have to worry about Aids or anything. I’ve only ever had sex with Colin and I had a test and I was fine,’ she assured him a little breathlessly.

  ‘And you don’t have to worry about me. I’ve been tested too and I’m fine. I’m not promiscuous, Devlin,’ Luke said gently. ‘I’ll wear a condom, of course.’

  Devlin reached up and caressed the long lean line of his jaw. ‘You don’t have to: I’ve been on the pill for years because of my periods.’

  ‘Don’t talk to me about periods: mine are so irregular,’ he said in an accent that was suspiciously like Dianne’s. Devlin giggled.

  ‘When did you find out you loved me?’ Luke wrapped his arms about her and the heat from his naked body came through the thin silk of her nightdress.

  ‘I suppose I’ve loved you for ages and didn’t realize it. But when I thought everything was finished between us, I was scared of losing you and that’s when I really knew. It’s a bit of a shock!’ She buried her face against his chest, loving the feel of his rough black hair against her cheek and lips.

  ‘I’d better resuscitate you then,’ he murmured, raising her face and bending his mouth to hers. He kissed her slowly, exploring the velvet softness of her mouth, his tongue caressing hers so erotically that she felt a flood of desire, the like of which she had not experienced for years. His kiss deepened, became more passionate and her body responded instinctively, arching against him, feeling his need for her. Her fingers caressed him, touching tentatively at first and then more confidently as his breathing quickened and she could see how much she was arousing him. Gently he lowered his head and brushed away the wispy straps of her nightdress as his mouth sought the hard pink tips of her nipples.

  ‘Oh Luke, this is lovely,’ she breathed, her hands holding his head tight against her as he teased and touched and caressed her breasts. For a long long time he kissed and explored every inch of her, gaining her trust, exciting her body until she was calling his name out in pleasure. He was so gentle when he entered her that for a brief moment it was the most exquisite sensation she had ever experienced. Then all of a sudden she froze.

  ‘Luke, Luke, stop!’ she cried out in panic, her hands pushing him away as she struggled to sit up.

  ‘God! What! What is it?’ Luke exclaimed in alarm, his voice harsh with passion as he drew away from her.

  ‘Oh Luke!’ Devlin covered her face with her hands and burst into tears. ‘I’m sorry
. . . I’m sorry,’ she sobbed.

  ‘It’s all right. It’s all right. Tell me what’s wrong. Did I hurt you?’ Luke didn’t know what was going on, but he reached out and drew her close and stared down at her bent head in confusion as a flood of tears bathed his chest.

  ‘No, you didn’t hurt me. It’s not you: it’s me! It’s me!’ she wept, feeling ashamed of herself for being such a failure.

  ‘Tell me about it,’ he said gently.

  ‘Oh, I feel so mortified behaving like this at my age,’ Devlin muttered in embarrassment. ‘You must think I’m terribly gauche.’

  ‘I don’t think anything of the sort.’ Luke kissed the top of her head and his arms tightened around her. ‘All I want is to make you happy and if you don’t feel you’re ready for a physical relationship yet, that’s no big deal, Devlin.’ He cupped her face in his hands and made her look at him. ‘Sex is just one part of a relationship; it’s not the be-all and end-all. It’s not for the sex that I wanted us to become involved. The love and the friendship are just as important.’

  ‘But aren’t you frustrated?’ Devlin asked, pink-cheeked. All she knew of men’s sexuality was what she had read in romantic novels. She knew even less about her own.

  ‘Oh Devlin!’ Luke chuckled. ‘Sure that’s easily fixed. You wouldn’t want to let any feminists hear you asking questions like that. They might picket City Girl.’

  ‘Oh, you mean I should be concerned about my own satisfaction,’ Devlin said glumly. ‘I think I’m a bit of a disaster in that area.’

  ‘Well, we were doing pretty well for a while,’ Luke smiled at her. ‘What happened?’

  She bit her lip.

  Seeing her discomfiture Luke said firmly, ‘Look, we can talk about this another time – Devlin, please don’t get into a tizzy – and don’t get things out of proportion.’

  ‘Luke . . . I lost my virginity to Colin Cantrell-King and that was the first and only time I had sex . . . I’ve never been with anyone since. When we were making love . . .’ She sighed deeply. ‘I know it’s irrational but all of a sudden I just felt this awful fear that I would get pregnant . . . I can’t really explain it.’