Page 152 of Guilty Pleasures

‘There’s no taxis for at least forty-five minutes. They’re all at Panton Hall ferrying everyone home,’ he said finally putting down the receiver.

‘Then I’ll walk.’

Ruan laughed.

‘Don’t be mad! You don’t want to go walking through the estate at this time of night. I saw Rob at the party. Maybe he’s still there and could pick you up on the way past.’

‘No!’ she shouted.

Ruan looked surprised and then gave a low laugh.

‘I did hear a rumour.’

‘What rumour?’ said Emma feeling her cheeks blaze pink.

‘You and Rob?’

It felt wrong to lie to him, especially in his own home.

Finally she shrugged. ‘It was a one-off. A mental aberration. I knew he was a bit of a bastard and I thought I’d be the last person to get caught in his web.’

‘You women, you’re so predictable,’ he tutted. She picked up a newspaper from the sofa and hit him with it.

‘That’s right, rub it in. I’m a sucker for a handsome face and a fat wallet.’ She sat back in the sofa and sipped the whisky he had offered her. ‘Anyway, what about you? You were the heart-throb of Chilcot. Sorry, the whole of Oxfordshire; I thought you’d have settled down years ago.’

‘Well, I almost did. I got engaged about three years ago,’ he said frankly.

‘I didn’t know,’ she said, suddenly curious about what sort of woman Ruan would be interested in. ‘So … ?’

‘So she left me for someone else.’

‘Handsome face, fat wallet?’ smiled Emma sadly.

‘Something like that. And the last woman I fell for was married. So here I am. Still single. I guess you could say I haven’t had the best of luck.’

He gave her a long penetrating look which unnerved her considerably, but she was too tired to try to get up. All she could do was sit there, thinking how good-looking he was and what a waste it was that he was alone. Certainly Ruan was more handsome than Rob and Mark, but they had been able to arouse great passion in Emma, a passion that had taken her out of her comfort zone and had made her feel alive, whether it was deliriously happy or prickling with rage.

Ruan was another sort of man entirely. More stable, more solid. Hard-working and serious, in many ways he reminded her of herself. He had consistently been her friend and supporter and she was terribly fond of him.

Suddenly she felt Ruan take off her shoes and put them to the side of the fireplace. The small, intimate gesture sent a jolt through her and she sat up.

‘Let me pull out the sofa-bed for you,’ he said softly.

He pulled himself up onto his knees and as he did so, his face passed within inches of Emma’s. Before she could even think about what she was doing she reached forward and put her hand on his cheek, guiding him down until their lips pressed gently together. Her eyes closed and she enjoyed the soft, natural sensation of their kiss. She felt him pull away gently and her split second of pleasure was replaced with an unbearable awkwardness.

‘I’m drunk,’ she smiled, trying to make light of it.

‘You’re my boss,’ he corrected quietly. ‘Otherwise it might be different.’

‘Look, I’d better go,’ she said quickly, moving to get up.

‘You’re drunk and tired,’ he said with a low laugh. ‘Crash here. I’ll just get you a blanket.’

As he brought over a tartan wool throw their eyes locked and she felt herself flush.

‘I’m not embarrassed if you’re not,’ said Ruan and Emma smiled gratefully.

She remembered him turning off the living room light and the gentle padding of his feet as he went upstairs. The next thing she knew her eyes were open and dawn light was cracking through the cottage window. She squinted at her watch: 8 a.m. Ruan was still asleep and the Milford office had officially closed for Christmas. She was desperate for a cup of coffee but there was no time to hang around – she swung her legs off the sofa, moaning as she felt the pain in her head. Speaking in a low voice, she called a taxi and went across to the chair where her coat had been flung. She winced at the memory of last night as she spotted her shoes by the fireplace where Ruan left them, a small but potent reminder of what had happened. How could I have been so bloody stupid? she thought. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve and the thought of staying in Chilcot and bumping into either Rob or Ruan made her cringe. But there was another option and as she heard the taxi toot outside Ruan’s cottage, she made up her mind. She was going to take the lesser of the two evils. She was going to Gstaad.