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reacted badly to criticism of his mother, even if it was deserved,so for the sake of peace and harmony she would just have to button up in future. It was lovely in a way, for a son should stick up for his mother whatever the circumstances, but she suspected that, deep down, he might well agree with her and he probably felt guilty about that. Going to university, mixing with the Oxford set, had changed him and he had grown apart from his parents and their small lives. Within her own narrow world, Paula could hold her own, but step outside it and the poor soul was all a-flutter.
    Nicola was glad, though, that she and Matthew had managed a quick kiss goodbye before she set off this morning and his murmured ‘Don’t let’s argue again’ had meant something. Maybe they would make up properly this evening and, as it was his turn to cook, she hoped he would get a bottle of wine even if it was midweek and they were trying to limit their drinking.
    To her delight, her husband was the sort of man whom women inevitably stole a glance at and he was not even aware of his powers of attraction. There was no strutting around peacock-like from Matthew, just a slotting into whatever situation he happened to find himself. He was too fair-haired to fall into the tall, dark and handsome category, but there was just something about him, that indefinable something that ought to be snapped up and bottled.
    She remembered clearly the first time she saw him at the hotel where he was attending some function, a boring-sounding seminar that had spilled over into the evening. The women in the group had abandoned their working suits and gone to town on their frocks as if it was some glitzy Christmas ball. The men were more soberly clad but even in the male uniform of well-tailored dark suit and white shirt, Matthew managed to stand out from the others.
    By God, he looked good. She heard him laugh first and looked across, seeing some woman in a fitted red dress besidehim, a little dark-haired woman with a big bust, unashamedly flirting with him. Really, must she make it quite so obvious? Matthew was being charming but not taking the bait and she smiled to herself that all that ridiculous pouting and eye-fluttering was coming to nothing.
    It was Nicola’s Mr Darcy moment, although she hoped as he glanced her way that she turned away before he detected her interest. She was supposed to be invisible, working at the time, assisting overseeing the corporate event and making sure it ran smoothly with no hitches, ready for action if it was necessary, standing unobtrusively off to one side watching proceedings in general but him in particular. She was not in the market for romance, for any sort of long-term thing, but not averse to a fling and there had been one or two of those at university and since, plus a few one-night stands at that, things she cringed at when she looked back at them.
    She took after her mother with the same heavy dark hair and tall slender frame. She was not sure of her father’s contribution to the gene pool but she supposed some aspect of her personality was gained from him, for her father possessed a natural aura of charm and confidence and an undoubted ability to attract the opposite sex. That night, the night she met Matthew, she was severely hampered by her neat but dull suit so she could not compete with the woman in the sexy red dress but thank goodness her make-up was spot on and her hair looked good swept up.
    It was entirely unethical of course to approach him in any way but she must have made some impression for he approached her as the party dispersed, exchanging a few words and somehow in the process getting hold of her mobile number. He was utterly charming with a gorgeous smile that reached his eyes but afterwards she felt quite flustered at the prospect of him contacting her again. She did not normally hand out her personal number to strangers – let there be amodicum of holding back, for heaven’s sake – but he