Free Broken Lines by Jo Bannister Page B

to. ‘I’m sorry. It’s work – I’ve hit a brick wall and I can’t get it out of my head. I’m rotten at keeping my work and my private life separate,’ he added honestly. ‘Only I don’t usually have enough of a private life for it to be a problem.’
    Jade gave a little snort, half of impatience, half amusement. Despite his failings there was something about Donovan she couldn’t help liking. It might even have been his lack of social skill. There was no polish with him: what you saw was what you got. All right, what she was getting tonight was a rather dreary preoccupation with his work; but she knew there was more. It wasn’t just that he was attracted to her, though she knew he was. Men had liked her before, but she hadn’t let them take her for granted. She wasn’t quite sure why she was willing to put up with it this time. Presumably, because she thought he was worth it.
    She knew now – she’d known last night – it wasn’t going to be an easy relationship. They were too alike: impatient, unconventional, fiercely ambitious. Both of them took risks to get what they wanted. Two more cautious people wouldn’t have ridden off into the darkness together and spent three hours in a basement café that could have been empty for all they knew or cared. For the last half hour it was, except for them and an increasingly irate waiter.
    For two pins, she knew, Donovan would have asked her back to his boat when the café closed. For two pins she would have gone. Why? – because a part of her thrived on danger, didn’t care if she was being unwise. Trouble she could handle: tame and safe withered her. Donovan with his moods and his dark looks and the intensity that radiated from him like a heat made her feel more alive than anything had in some time.
    But he hadn’t asked her back, and in the end she had too much pride to invite herself. He’d asked to see her again. She’d shrugged, said she’d call him.
    As soon as the morning papers arrived she took them to her office, looking for an excuse to make it tonight. When she saw the canal exhibition advertised it was like fate lending a hand. But she waited until lunchtime to call. No need to tell him he’d got under her skin.
    So his lack of enthusiasm for what she’d chosen was doubly disappointing. Two truisms occurred to her: one about fish in the sea, and one about flogging a dead horse. ‘Do you want to call it a night?’
    â€˜No!’ The swiftness of his response could only be a compliment, however belated. ‘I really am sorry, it was a nice idea, it’s just—’ He raised one shoulder in an awkward lopsided shrug. ‘If you hadn’t noticed already, I am to the jolly social whirl what King Herod is to The Mothers’Union.’
    She laughed at that, the red hair dancing. That was what he did for her that made it worth putting up with the rest: he surprised her, he made her laugh. ‘OK, so you want to worry about work. Anything I can help with?’
    Donovan gave a rueful grin. ‘Not even Rumpole of the Bailey could help me with this. In fact, if Rumpole knew what I was up to he’d get his client discharged without a stain on his character.’
    Jade liked him remembering her joke. ‘Sergeant!’ she exclaimed in mock horror. ‘You’re not trying to frame someone?’
    â€˜â€™Course not.’ He sounded outraged; then his eyes slid away and his thin lips sketched a self-deprecating smile. ‘But it’s not exactly above-board either. I have to convince someone that I know things I don’t so he might as well come clean when in fact he’d be better off not doing so. I suppose that’s vaguely dishonest but you couldn’t call it a frame – he’s guilty, I’m just having trouble proving it. God Almighty, I was there – I saw what he did! But he’s come up