The Runaway Woman Part 27

She could have told Dave that both the top and the skirt were bought in a sale at the market some years back, but after the wonderful compliments he had given, she thought it best to keep that information to herself.

Two hours later, having thoroughly enjoyed their evening meal together, Dave and Lucy were now seated in the hotel bar.

Dave had a gla.s.s of wine in front of him, while Lucy had opted for the tiniest measure. 'I'm not used to too much wine,' she admitted. 'It makes me laugh too much, and feel giddy.' She had learned that much at Anne's wedding, when she had fallen over and made a fool of herself in front of everyone.

So now, when the barman came across to ask, 'Is there anything else I can get you?' Dave shook his head and asked that the evening's expenses be added to his overall bill.

'I've had the most wonderful evening,' Lucy told him when the waiter had gone, 'so, thank you, Dave.' She still felt guilty somehow, in using his first name. 'You really are a knight in s.h.i.+ning armour, and I'll tell you something else.' Suddenly, she felt shy and awkward, but she had to finish what she wanted to say. 'Since I met you, I've had the most exciting and wonderful time of my entire life.' And that was the truth.

'So have I.' Dave did not want it to end. 'But now you're making me worry.'

'But why?'

'Because it's almost as though you're saying goodbye.' He leaned forward and lowered his voice to the smallest whisper. 'Lucy, please tell me, you're not leaving me ... are you?'

Lucy did not know what to say, and so she simply said, 'Did you know it's eleven thirty ... way past my bedtime?' She did not want to leave him, but being so close to Dave Benson felt wrong somehow, especially as he was making her heart leap, and more especially as she was a married woman. The fact that Martin had cheated on her was not an excuse for her to cheat.

Dave could see how nervous she was, and so he smiled and said he had an early start in the morning, so it was probably best if they called it a night. 'Shame, though, don't you think, Lucy?'

Lucy changed the subject. 'I'm glad you did well today ... with the deal, I mean.'

'Ah, but it's not altogether clinched yet. Although, like I said earlier, I have managed to get them on the back foot. Maybe tomorrow I'll move in for the kill.'

Lucy s.h.i.+vered. 'It all sounds a little brutish to me, but I know you'll swing it for Nancy,' she said stoutly.

He smiled at her. 'I wish everyone had the same belief in me that you do.' He leaned forward and looked her straight in the eye. 'You are a lovely soul, Lucy Lovejoy,' he told her tenderly. 'And I am so very glad I met you.'

'Me too.' She was saddened at the idea of never seeing him again. 'I've had a wonderful time, but now I'm begnning to think I should make my way home.' It truly pained her to say that.

'I understand,' he said regretfully, 'but I will miss you ... terribly.'

'And I will miss you, the sharp-dealing Dave Benson. I wonder what your business a.s.sociates would say if they knew how absolutely crazy you are.'

She stood up to say softly, 'Good night, Dave ... and thank you for everything.'

The silence was heavy as he walked her to the door, until Dave asked quietly, 'Please, Lucy, at least let me see you to your room?'

'Not necessary, Dave. Stay and finish your drink. I'll be absolutely fine. Really I will.'

'Trust me, you never know what oddball is roaming the corridors.'

Lucy grew nervous. 'Now, you've got me worried.' She had never stayed alone in a big hotel before, with its long, winding corridors and so many doors in and out, and lifts that might break down, for all she knew, and the thought of being stranded in a lift possibly with a stranger was a nightmare.

'So, will you let me escort you to your room?'

Lucy did not now need to think twice. 'Yes, please.'

A few moments later the two of them were getting into the lift.

'I never asked which floor you were on,' Dave said.

Lucy had a moment of panic before she realised it was on her key-tag, which she now took from her purse. She took a quick look. 'Third floor. I'm in room twenty-two.' And now she could relax, especially with Dave alongside her.

'Well, I never!' Dave said. 'I'm only four doors down from you, in room twenty-six.'

As Lucy's room was further from the lift than his, Dave walked her down to room twenty-two, where he said good night.

'You are the loveliest woman,' he whispered intimately. 'I can't bear the thought of never seeing you again.'

Regretfully, Lucy felt obliged to close the conversation. 'I'm sorry, but I think it's time I went back and faced up to my obligations.'

He nodded. 'Yes ... I understand. I'm sorry.'

Impulsively, she reached up to kiss him ever so gently on the cheek. 'Good night ... and thank you ... so very much for a wonderful time.'

He merely nodded, then walked back to his own room.

When he got there, he turned round, but Lucy was already gone.

Saddened, he bowed his head and let himself into the room where he sat on the edge of the bed, thinking of Lucy. And feeling so incredibly lonely.

In her room, after the excitement of the day, Lucy felt guilty.

Guilty because she had given herself over to a stranger, a man who knew how to laugh and have fun. A man who thought she was beautiful and said so. A man who had such kindness and warmth in his eyes when he had gazed on her tonight, saying not a word, yet his eyes were saying so many things it made her dizzy. It was almost as though he was gathering her up and keeping her to himself.

Deliberately thrusting him from her mind, she undressed, then went into the bathroom, where she cleaned off her make-up.

She then ran a bath and climbed into it. She lost all sense of time lazing there, thinking of her family; especially Martin and Paula and the shameless things they had done.

Then her thoughts drifted to Dave Benson, this wonderful man who had shown her a side to life she had long forgotten. He had reminded her how to laugh out loud, how to smile, and to feel it in her deepest heart.

Lying there with the warm water lapping over her, she could hear his voice, soft and vibrant, saying things to turn her heart over. She smiled.

'He held my hand,' she whispered. 'He told me I was beautiful.' Tears welled up in her brown eyes. 'No one in my whole life has ever told me that ... not even my own husband.'

Throughout the short time she had been in Dave's company, she had felt so very special. He made her come alive like never before in her entire life. And now she was leaving him, and her heart was heavy at the thought. Remember what your mum once said to you, Lucy, she thought. When she warned you that she would not get better and you said she mustn't talk like that, she told you that sometimes you have to face up to things that you can't change. 'Nothing is for ever,' that's what she told you.

Tears clouded her eyes. Her mum was right, and tonight, Lucy Lovejoy, she told herself, you must see that what happened between you and Dave Benson was just a fleeting moment in time. It can never happen again.

A short time later, she climbed out of the bath and slipped on her nightgown. She got into bed and lay there thinking, regretting. Wis.h.i.+ng that her life might have been different. If I hadn't been bad and got pregnant, my life would have been so very different, she thought, but then realised she could never regret the way her life had gone. If Martin had not singled me out at school, I would never have had Anne, or Samuel ... and my beautiful grandson would never have been born to us.

When she thought of it like that, she felt guilty at wis.h.i.+ng she had never met Martin. Never got pregnant. Never seen him and Paula together. 'Your life is a mess, Lucy,' she told herself aloud. 'You're married to a man who doesn't love you. You have no money. No prospects. Nowhere to go.' She gave a wry little smile. 'Truth is, there is no way you could change your life now ... even if you wanted to.'

For a long time, she lay on top of the bed, allowing herself the luxury of just being there ... arms akimbo, staring at the ceiling and marvelling at the swirls of plaster that made a unique pattern above her head.

Her gaze was drawn by the tiniest spider; she watched it, balancing and dancing across the ceiling, and now it was hanging upside down, like an act in a circus.

After what seemed an age, she s.h.i.+fted a little and, picking up her watch from the bedside cabinet, she glanced at the time. 'Crikey! It's gone midnight!' she exclaimed in surprise.

Replacing the watch, she allowed herself another few lazy moments to think of her family and her parents, and her dear friend, Kathleen, whom she must not forget to call first thing in the morning. Oh! And, she'd best let Anne know that she was on her way back.

Just then, thinking of her friend made her wonder ... 'I wish I could be adventurous and devil-may-care, like you, Kathleen,' she murmured. 'I bet you would never leave if you found a man like Dave Benson. I bet you would do whatever your heart tells you to. But then, you're impetuous, while I'm not ... more's the pity.'

She lay very still, thinking for a while longer, then she got into bed and drew the clothes over, her busy mind a.s.sailed by any number of naughty thoughts. Should I? she asked herself mischievously. Or should I not?

The more she tried to push the idea away, the more confused she felt.

If she denied what her heart was coaxing her to do, she would probably never forgive herself. Yet, if she surrendered to her heart and instincts, would she bitterly regret it afterwards?

By now, she was so worked up and undecided, she was way past sleep. Think, Lucy! she told herself angrily. If Kathleen was here, in this situation, what would she do?

The answer glared her in the face.

Within moments she was out of bed and throwing on her dressing gown. Sliding her feet into her slippers, and without a second thought, she collected the key from the dressing table and quietly let herself out.

Softly closing the door behind her, she had never felt so excited, so afraid, and so absolutely wicked, in all of her life.

Dave was lying awake when the knock on the door startled him.

Curious, and not too pleased at being disturbed, he scrambled out of bed and put on his dressing gown. Going to the door he gingerly opened it, and almost fell over with shock when he saw Lucy standing there in her dressing gown, her wild brown hair looking tousled and damp, and her face clean and pretty as a child's.

'Lucy! What's wrong? What's happened?'

'I couldn't sleep,' Lucy said innocently. 'I've come to see you ... is that all right?'

'Well, yes ... come in. Come in.' His heart was thumping, but he could not understand why she was here. He wondered, but dared not let himself believe it.

Lucy sat on the bed, and after closing the door, he sat beside her. 'Was it that small gla.s.s of wine you drank?' he asked. 'Is that why you can't sleep? It's my fault ... I'm sorry, Lucy. You did say you don't really drink alcohol, and I should not have persuaded you to have the tiniest one ... only I did want us to toast the wonderful memories we made together. I really am sorry. I should have known better-' When Lucy got up as though to leave, he stopped halfway through the sentence. 'Please, Lucy, don't go.'

Lucy had no intention of leaving. Instead she walked round the bed, and climbed in. Then to his astonishment, she stretched out her bare arm and patted the s.p.a.ce beside her.

'I've been thinking,' she said, 'and I've decided that we should listen to my friend's advice.' She looked up at him with big eyes, and a knowing smile that told him everything. 'What do you think, Mr Benson? Should we listen to my friend's advice?'

Dave was almost afraid to ask. 'She's the friend who thought you should "ravish" me. Am I right?'

Lucy nodded. 'Yes! So tell me, Dave Benson ... do you think we should listen to my crazy friend's advice?' She felt wonderfully shameless and so bold and excited, it frightened her. But she was past caring. If she had learned anything these past few days, it was that life was for living. And why should she let it pa.s.s her by?

She looked across at Dave, who was gazing on her, and slowly shaking his head as though not able to believe that Lucy was actually lying in his bed ... inviting him in.

Lucy smiled up at him. 'Well?' That one word was enough.

Dave stripped off his dressing gown and, stark-naked, he climbed into bed beside her.

'Lucy Lovejoy ... oh, my beautiful ... wonderful woman.' The warmth of her smooth skin against his, felt amazing.

Tenderly now, he ran his fingers along her neck, and down, towards her thighs. Wrapping his two arms about her, he drew her into him, surprised and thrilled when Lucy made no protest.

Instead, without a word, she carefully drew her nightgown over her head and sent it slithering to the floor.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

AFTER FALLING INTO a deep sleep in the armchair, Martin woke with a start.

Momentarily disoriented, he sat up straight and glanced around, woolly-headed, not yet fully awake.

Paula! The first thought that came into his head was the divorce papers, and whether or not she would remember to take them in to the solicitors in the morning. Paula might know how to please a man, he thought, but there were times when a man might be forgiven for wringing her neck.

Getting out of the chair, he began to walk up and down, slowly at first, and then in a panic. She'll forget, he decided, I know she will ... absent-minded, fluffy-headed, wonderful woman ... that's what she is.

He paced the floor a while longer, unsure whether to take matters into his own hands if the letter was ever going to reach the solicitor. He could see he'd have to keep on at her, make her realise that the sooner she got the divorce papers lodged, the sooner they could get things moving towards their new life together.

He spread his hands over his face in despair. What to do? What to do? He didn't want to risk losing her.

Calm down, man! he warned himself. You'll go crazy if you keep on like this. Paula said she would take the papers in tomorrow, and she will. And why would she not? She wants rid of that useless waster, as much as you do. If not more.

He began to feel calmer, more able to think straight, now that he was wide awake. Yes, she'll take them in, he told himself, and the sooner Lucy gets back, the sooner she'll know what I'm planning. There is nothing she can do about it. Me and Paula are made for each other, and I won't rest until the road is clear for us to be married.

The thought of putting a ring on Paula's finger and spending the rest of his life with her was too exciting for words.

I don't care how long it takes, or who gets hurt in the process, Martin decided. It's what me and Paula want, and if her ex thinks he can drag his feet and put barriers up I'll make d.a.m.ned sure he rues the day!

Far from calming himself down, he was now wound up and ready for anything, so he made his way into the kitchen and put the kettle on for a calming brew.

By the time he had got out the tea-caddy and sugar, the kettle had boiled, but instead of making himself a cup of tea, he hurried down the hallway and put on his cap and coat. Growing increasingly agitated, he found his house keys and let himself out of the house.

He started up the van, rammed it into gear, then drove at some speed down the street and onto the main road in the direction of Paula's house.

Once he had eased the van into the alley, Martin was not surprised to see that Paula's house was in complete darkness, except for the light over the back door.

He was now disgruntled. Huh! She was the one who forgot to send the divorce papers, and he was the only one losing sleep ... typical!

Then his mood changed from irritated to thinking that maybe he would get to spend the night with Paula. With Lucy gadding off like that, there was no one to worry where he might be.

Carefully, he parked his van in the bend as always, switched off the headlights, then made his way up to the house, trying to avoid the wide beam from the streetlight that lit up part of the alley.

Arriving at Paula's back gate, he had no idea he was being watched.

'There! I was right ... I said it was Martin's van.'

During her nightly ritual, when she would look out of the bedroom window to make sure there were no prowlers lurking in the alley, Mary Taylor had seen Martin arrive.