The Kill (3 page)

He leaned down so he could lower his voice. The music was loud enough that he didn’t really need to murmur. All the same, I could see the need for caution when he said, ‘I need you to make Beth jealous.’

‘Beth?’

‘The bridesmaid.’

‘Which one is Beth?’

‘Does it matter?’ Derwent demanded. Then he relented. ‘The fit one. Dark hair. Nice tits. Not the one who looks like an ironing board in a frock.’

‘Good choice,’ Rob said. ‘Good luck, mate.’

‘No luck required. Just Kerrigan.’

I was glaring at Rob, who had given no sign of even noticing the bridesmaids, let alone of having assessed their chests.

‘What?’ he said, blinking at me, all innocence.

‘Nothing.’ I looked up at Derwent who tilted his head to one side.

‘Please?’

I really wanted to say no. I’d felt sorry for Derwent earlier, though, coming to the wedding on his own. He looked lonely. I was pretty sure he
was
lonely. And I was so completely happy with Rob I couldn’t take away his chance to feel the same way.

‘Go on, Maeve,’ Rob said. ‘Have fun.’

I stood up and it took Rob a second to follow my face all the way up. He squinted slightly as he tried to focus and I wondered just exactly how drunk he was. To Derwent, I said, ‘One dance. But I want you to know I don’t approve of you playing mind games with the poor girl. If you like her, just tell her that.’

‘Yeah, because that always works.’ Derwent rolled his eyes.

I opened my mouth to reply and stopped, as Rob’s hand slid inside the slit in my skirt and ran up the back of my leg. When he slipped his fingers between my legs so he could stroke the soft skin at the top of my thigh, I thought,
Oh.
That
drunk
.

I looked up and saw Derwent grinning at me. He knew exactly what Rob was doing, I realised, and I stepped away from my boyfriend so I was out of range.

‘Do I have your permission to do what I like with her?’ Derwent asked Rob.

‘You have my permission to try. But don’t blame me if she hurts you.’

‘Can you stop talking to Rob as if he owns me?’ I grabbed Derwent’s arm and marched him towards the dance floor, where the band was halfway through ‘That’s Amore’.

‘When I’m dancing with someone who’s taken, I like to get everything agreed in advance so I don’t get thumped. He’s a big lad, your bloke.’

‘So are you.’

‘I still wouldn’t want to fight him.’

‘Well, I wouldn’t want to ruin Ben and Christine’s wedding with a brawl, so behave yourself.’

Derwent shook his head. ‘That’s not going to work.’

He took hold of me and took charge, spinning me around so I was breathless and laughing after a couple of minutes. It turned out that Derwent was surprisingly good at dancing, despite the slight limp he’d acquired a few months earlier when he was injured in the line of duty. I was almost disappointed when the song ended. He stood beside me, though, and made no move towards the edge of the dance floor.

‘They look happy,’ I said, watching Ben and Christine kiss in the middle of the dance floor as people applauded them.

‘It’ll be you next.’

‘Not next,’ I said. ‘But maybe someday.’ I looked across at Rob, who was watching us, a half-smile on his face. His eyes were still slightly unfocused but I had the feeling he was paying more attention than a casual onlooker might have thought.

‘That’s commitment,’ Derwent said.

‘It is for me.’

‘I wasn’t taking the piss. He’s lucky.’

‘Oh.’ I was wrong-footed and, for once, speechless.

‘How’s the self-esteem today, Kerrigan?’

That was more like Derwent. I glowered. ‘Fine. I’m not used to you being nice, that’s all.’

‘Saying it as I see it, that’s all. Nothing nice about it.’ He waited a beat. ‘You’re lucky too, though. He puts up with you which is more than ninety-nine point nine per cent of men would bother to do.’

Ugh
. ‘If you want to find a girlfriend, do you really think the best way is by dancing with me?’

He pulled me towards him. ‘I’m not looking for a girlfriend tonight, Kerrigan. I’m looking for a shag. Weddings are all about shagging. And making Beth jealous is the last thing I need to do to tip her over the edge.’

‘You old romantic.’

‘I am romantic. I love weddings.’ The band played the first few chords of ‘Can’t Help Falling in Love with You’. The singer was no Elvis but he gave it his best shot, crooning into his microphone with his eyes closed. Derwent pulled me so close to him the buttons on his jacket dug into my stomach. ‘I’ve got a system. Scope out the talent during the ceremony. Choose your target. Make contact with her before the meal. Watch her during the meal, so you can see if she’s eating.’ He leaned even closer so his lips were almost brushing my ear. ‘Desire kills all other appetites. If she’s eating, forget it. If she can’t eat, you’re in.’

‘Did Beth eat?’

‘Not that I saw. And I was watching.’ He sounded infinitely smug.

‘I still don’t know why you’re mauling me and not her.’ I could hear the irritation in my voice and Derwent wouldn’t have missed it. He skimmed his left hand down so it was resting on the curve of my bottom.

‘Because she thinks she’s missed her chance and she’ll be so grateful to be wrong.’

‘What are you doing?’ I wriggled, trying to get away.

‘Dancing with you. Settle down and enjoy it, Kerrigan. For the next two minutes, you’re mine.’

He was too strong for me to be able to put any air between us. I felt his breath on my neck, his heart beating much slower than mine, his hand warm on my skin through the thin material of my dress. His chest pressed against mine and my bodice slid a vital quarter of an inch lower. His hips moved against me, in time to the music, and I found I couldn’t quite catch my breath. His attention was focused on my cleavage but as I leaned back, trying to get some space, he stared straight into my eyes, and that was somehow more intimate than anything else. I couldn’t look away, until he did, and then I took a few moments to find my voice.

‘Take your hand off my arse, sir.’

The grin. ‘Fifty-six seconds. I’m impressed.’

‘Move it,’ I ordered.

‘On a normal bird, that would be your waist.’

‘The fact that I’m taller than average is not a reason for you to grope me.’

He let go of me altogether and stepped back, laughing. ‘I wondered what it would take to make you angry.’

‘Sorry to ruin your game.’

‘You didn’t.’ Derwent’s eyes were narrow with amusement. ‘Beth left when we started dancing to this song. She’s been gone pretty much the whole time.’

My face was flaming. ‘So that was you having fun.’

‘Oh come on, Kerrigan. You enjoyed it too.’

I turned away from him and stalked through the marquee, then out the other side without speaking to anyone. The sign for the ladies pointed towards a trailer with three cubicles in it and a bank of mirrors and sinks on the other side. I rattled up the steps of the trailer, moving fast, as if I was home free once I got inside. Derwent would follow me if he felt like it. The sanctity of the ladies’ loo meant nothing to him. But why would he follow me? He’d had his fun. He spent his whole life trying to get a reaction from people, the more outraged the better, and I’d played right into his hands. I needed to be alone, just to get my composure back, but of course I wasn’t alone.

Standing at the sink, arms folded, was Beth the bridesmaid. The other bridesmaid was leaning on the counter beside her. The two of them broke off their conversation to glare at me, which settled what they’d been talking about. I took my time checking my appearance in the mirror before I shut myself in a cubicle. I wasn’t going to be intimidated by two twenty-four-year-olds in flamingo-pink satin. I stared at myself, noting that my cheeks were flushed, my eyes bright with upset. At least my hair, straightened for the wedding, was under control for once.

I shut the door and sat down on the closed loo, my hands to my face. My heart was still pounding. I took a few deep breaths of chemical-sweet air. I couldn’t even work out what I was feeling: a hell-brew of embarrassment, shame and anger. It wasn’t just that I was mortified about being felt up in front of my colleagues and my boyfriend. I couldn’t bear the fact that I had responded to Derwent on some base, biological level, far below logic and reason. Outside, the conversation was continuing in whispers and stifled giggles. Irritation, I found, was a lot better than humiliation. I counted to twenty, then unlocked the door.

‘Was there something you wanted to ask me?’ I said to Beth.

She looked terrified. ‘No.’

Her friend was bolder. ‘What are you doing with Josh? He likes Beth.’

‘Yes, he does.’

‘And you were hanging around with that fit dark-haired bloke earlier. Isn’t he your boyfriend?’

‘Yes, he is.’

For a split-second, the bridesmaid who was not Beth looked disappointed that Rob wasn’t single.
As if
, I thought, abandoning the moral high ground.

‘Well, why were you all over Josh? How do you know him? Or don’t you?’

‘I work with him.’

‘No you don’t,’ Beth said. ‘He’s a police officer. He investigates murders.’

‘So do I.’

She looked surprised. ‘Seriously?’

‘I’m a detective constable.’

I watched the two of them stare at me, checking out the shoes and the legs and the very fitted dress that was cut to make the most of my chest and the least of my waist.

‘I think, even if I was a police officer, I’d be ashamed to be that much of a slut in public while my boyfriend was watching.’ Plain bridesmaid’s tone was biting.

God, I hated the word
slut
. I was tempted to snap back, but I took hold of my temper. There was one way to neutralise Derwent, at least for the rest of the evening, assuming he was right and the lady was willing.

‘I was just dancing,’ I said. ‘And Josh really likes Beth. Beth, do you like Josh?’

She nodded.

‘Then go and find him. Put us all out of our misery.’

I’d have warned her to be careful but there didn’t seem to be much point. I left her checking her make-up as her friend redid her hair, shoving in hairpins with thin-lipped concentration. It had to be hard to be the not-pretty bridesmaid, even if Beth’s reward was a short liaison with my DI.

I walked down the steps to the path that led back to the marquee, not hurrying this time. Light spilled out of the tent across the grass, and the band had gone up-tempo again with ‘Walking on Sunshine’. Gales of laughter rang out and a woman screamed, then cackled loudly. I wished I felt more like partying. I wished I could have a drink and forget the previous twenty minutes had ever happened.

My eyes were getting used to the darkness. Glancing to my right, I saw a figure standing motionless under a tree. Derwent.

As I got close enough to see his face I faltered and stopped. It was his expression – dark, undisguised desire. I could tell what he wanted and how he wanted it: a willing partner bent over a car bonnet, right there and then. No preamble. No romance. Just sex.

And I was scared. Not of him, but of what I might do. There was a reckless, hand-in-the-fire, jump-in-the-river part of me that I kept hidden, but it still existed. I wasn’t to be trusted with my own happiness. I hadn’t wanted to fall in love with Rob because I knew I would wreck it, somehow. Derwent was the ultimate bad idea, on every level. And I loved Rob.

I knew, though, that if Derwent said my name then, I might be tempted to go to him.

All of this flashed through my mind like a wildfire in the space of a half-second, before I realised he was looking past me, to where Beth was stepping down from the trailer on to the gravel path. I don’t even think Derwent had noticed me break my stride.

I walked on, into the brightly lit marquee, where everyone was flushed from the heat of dancing and the good French wine. Nothing about my appearance would make me stand out to anyone, even though my face was flaming. I tacked sideways, away from where Rob was sitting, knowing that his very inconvenient habit of reading my mind would be too dangerous to risk. I was heading for the bar and a glass of water. I had to recover something like self-possession before I went back to him.

‘Maeve.’

I jumped about a mile. ‘Sir.’

Godley smiled down at me, tall and film-star handsome as ever. ‘You can call me Charles. We’re off duty.’

‘I don’t actually think I can,’ I said truthfully and he laughed.

‘Give it another couple of years of working with me and you’ll be calling me far worse things than my name. Look at Josh. He has absolutely no respect for me.’

I flinched a little at the sound of Derwent’s name, and Godley saw it. He frowned, then asked, ‘Are you having a good time?’

‘Of course.’ I smiled at him. ‘I was just going to get a drink. Water, I mean.’

‘I could do with a refill too.’ He stood back to let me go first, following me to the bar where I waited for the bar staff to notice us. And waited. And waited.

‘If you don’t mind, I could try,’ Godley said in my ear.

‘Be my guest.’ I swapped places with him. Instantly two of the girls dropped what they were doing to rush over and take his order. While we waited for the drinks a heavy-set middle-aged man blundered up to the bar and cannoned into me. With tremendous courtesy Godley put his arm around me to move me out of range. For the second time that night, I was aware of getting a completely undeserved glare from other women because of who I was with.

Which reminded me. As I took my glass from Godley, I asked, ‘Is Serena here? I haven’t seen her.’

His expression darkened. ‘She isn’t here. I came alone.’

‘You and Derwent both did. You should have been each other’s dates.’

‘I’ve seen what Josh does to his dates. No thanks.’

I wondered if Godley had seen what Derwent had done to me. He had moved on, though.

‘I should tell you, Maeve … Serena and I are getting divorced.’

‘What? Why?’ I realised it was none of my business as soon as I asked. ‘I mean, I’m sorry. Sorry to hear that.’

Godley grimaced. ‘It’s been coming for a while. Sometimes things go too far and you can’t find a way back to where you used to be.’