The Man Who Made Husbands Jealous Read Online Free PDF Page A

the glowing coals of the barbecue. Apart from an inscrutable Mexican houseboy who occasionally plunged a skewer into their shining gold sides, the place was deserted.
        Caressed by the warm night air Lysander gave a sigh of pure joy.
        'Such bliss to go outside and not shiver, but I expect it's cold for you.' Solicitously, he edged her towards the fire.
        'Poor little things,' Martha looked sadly at the sucking pigs, then, pulling herself together, 'You're kinda tanned for someone just arrived from England.'
        'It's fake,' confessed Lysander, lifting the light brown hair flopping over his forehead. 'Look how it's streaked on the hairline and turned my eyebrows orange. I borrowed the stuff from Dolly, my girlfriend. She's a model and always having to turn herself strange colours. I wanted
        terrorize everyone into thinking I'd got brown playing in Argentina all winter. But I was pissed when I put it on last night.'
        She's so sweet when she smiles, he thought. To hell with Seb and Dommie.
        'And it's your birthday?' she asked.'No,' Lysander glanced down at his birthday-boy badge, 'but it gets me lots of free drinks.' He opened his blue-green eyes very wide and then roared with such infectious laughter that people standing in doorways and sitting in windows and even the inscrutable Mexican houseboy looked up and smiled.
        'When is your birthday?' asked Martha.
        '25 February, I shall be twenty-three.'
        'You're a Pisces.'
        Lysander nodded. 'Friendly, warm, considerate, easygoing, but cross me and you'll see how tough I can be. My father who's a classical scholar pronounces it, "Piss-ces".'
        'What does your daddy do?'
        'He's a headmaster. Supposed to be a great teacher, -but he spends most of his time raising funds and wowing mothers.'
        'Does your mother wow the fathers?'
        For a second an expression of utter anguish spilled over [the boy's sunny, innocent, charming face. Shutting his eyes he took a couple of deep breaths as though trying' to survive some horrific torture without crying out.
        'She just died,' he mumbled, 'last October.'
        'Ohmigod!' Martha put a hand on his arm which was clenched like cast iron, 'Whatever happened?'
        'She had a fall on the road. The horse went up. She wasn't wearing a hard hat.'
        As the Mexican plunged in another skewer the boiling [fat dripped on to the red coals which hissed and flared [up, lighting Lysander's face like a soul in hell.
        'You poor little guy,' said Martha. 'Were you very close?'
        Lysander nodded. 'She was more like my sister. All my friends were in love with her.'
        'Your father must have been devastated.'
        Lysander's face hardened. 'Dad doesn't show his feelings. Basically we don't talk. He prefers my brothers, Hector and Alexander. They're better at things.'
        From inside the house the band struck up. 'I get no kick from champagne,' crooned a mellow tenor.
        'I do,' said Lysander, emptying the bottle into Martha's glass.
        'What d'you do?' asked Martha.
        'Estate agent.'
        'Not much fun with the recession.'
        'Best thing that ever happened to him.'
        Gliding up, Seb Carlisle topped up both their glasses. 'Recession enables Rip-Off Van Winkle here to sleep and sober up all day in the office when he's not ringing Ladbroke's or sloping off home to watch Neighbours. He couldn't do any of that if he had to sell houses.'
        'Oh shut up, Seb,' said Lysander. 'Now guard Martha for a minute.'
        Turning, he was nearly sent flying by the predatory blonde in the fire-engine-red dress.
        'If you've finished with your toy boy,' she said pointedly to Martha, 'I'd love to dance with him.'
        'You're sweet,' said Lysander, 'but I must have a slash.'
        'He's just adorable.' Martha watched Lysander drifting gracefully as smoke across the