Chances & Choices Read Free Page A

the main light switch as he went.  His face held a questioning look, as if unable to place her.  As the light illuminated her, it was immediately swept away by a look of recognition.
    "Claire, what are you doing here?"
    Claire's heart sank; he didn't seem very pleased to see her, although it was hard to tell from the emotionless mask that had come down almost as soon as he recognised her.
    Behind the mask, Julian drank in the sight of her.
    She looked taller, but the illusion could probably be attributed to her position on the slightly raised dais at the entrance, which led down into the studio, and to the elegant court shoes she wore on her feet.  His gaze travelled from them, up her shapely, slender legs to the hem of her dress, which draped curvaceous hips, emphasising her slim waist, blossoming, over full, firm breasts, revealing the sensuous curve of her white throat.  The dress could have been made for her, and Julian wondered if she was on his mind when he designed it.
    He retained his hold on his expression, but he was not as successful with his inward emotions.  Her skin was pale, compared to the golden beauties who filled the west coast, and it gave her an ethereal appearance, which was enhanced by her wide, grey eyes.  She had grown more beautiful, he thought, and even more desirable.
    Walking up the couple of steps to stand in front of her, he thrust his hands in his pockets to stop them from reaching up to remove the pins from her upswept hair, so it could slip down and lie like strands of gold against the curve of her cheek.  As he drew closer, the scent she wore drifted towards him.  It was faint and unfamiliar, and he wondered if he were to bend and place his lips to the soft pulse of her throat if he would recognise it.
    "Julian?"
    The sound of her voice made him collect himself.  What was he doing standing in front of her like a love-struck fool!  He moved aside allowing her access to the steps.
    "Come in.  Would you like a drink?"
    He moved past her to a drinks table against the wall in the small seating area apart from the rest of the studio, glad of the actions necessary to prepare the drinks.
    "Yes, a gin and tonic would be nice, if you have some."
    Claire wandered around the room, watching him as he mixed the drinks, unwittingly repeating the same motions he went through half-an-hour before.  
    Julian's attitude confused her.  As she stood at the door, he had appraised her in a fashion she was used to from men - she was aware men found her attractive.  But looking into his eyes, she had been unable to detect even a trace of desire.  Why should she?  This was Julian, they were merely friends.  Reaching his drafting table, she saw the sketches he had been working on.
    "I'm not disturbing you, am I?   I know I'm a day early."  She accepted the drink he handed her.  "But I thought you'd be pleased to see me."
    During the intervening minutes, Julian had composed himself and he was anxious to establish the familiar rapport that usually marked their meetings.  He would be seeing her more frequently now and if he wasn't careful, she would begin to suspect.
    "Of course, I'm pleased to see you.  Just surprised, that's all.  Which, I believe, was your intention?"  Teasingly, he ran his thumb up and down her cheek.
    Claire moved away.  It was the kind of gesture he made often in the past and it reassured her of his continued friendship.  But she was vulnerable after the past few months and his sudden tenderness could very well prove her undoing.  Much though she would like to, she had no intention of blurting out her woes, like a transparent schoolgirl, the moment she arrived.  Turning back, she caught him looking at her, intently.
    "What's the matter, do I have a spot on my nose?"
    "No.  It's just that dress.  It's one of mine, isn't it?"
    Leaning back against the worktable, adopting an artificial pose, she said sotto voce.  "Of course, darling, I never go anywhere unless I'm in a