Lee Wilkinson - Wedding Fever

‘The evening’s not over yet,’ he pointed out, a strange note in his voice. Then, watching her involuntary shiver, he added in a bored tone, ‘Now, do go and get ready, there’s a good girl.’

‘This late on a Saturday night you won’t get in anywhere without a reservation.’ She made no attempt to hide the triumph. ‘We’ll end up eating in the local snack-bar.’

He merely smiled. ‘I’ve already booked a table for two at the Priest House.’

The Priest House, a beautiful old building dating from the fifteen-hundreds, was the most expensive and exclusive restaurant in the neighbourhood.

‘How dare you do such a thing without even asking me?’ she burst out. Then, realising that by losing her temper she was playing into his hands, she drew a deep breath and went on more calmly, ‘I’m afraid you’ll be eating alone. I’d rather starve than accept your invitation.’

Nick’s face hardened. ‘My dear Raine, you don’t seem to understand... It isn’t an invitation. It’s an order.’

Furiously, she demanded, ‘What makes you think you can give me orders?’

With a smile that showed the gleam of his white teeth but failed to reach his eyes, a smile that was a danger signal, he said with terrifying confidence, ‘Because I hold the whip hand.’

She wanted to deny his assertion, to protest that he was joking, or mistaken, or mad, but, knowing the man, she was suddenly convinced that he was none of those things. That he somehow did hold the whip hand.

Feeling as though she’d been punched in the solar plexus, Raine stared up at him mutely, her clear green eyes startlingly beautiful.

‘My, what big eyes you’ve got,’ he murmured mockingly.

Finding her voice, she said through stiff lips, ‘If you think I’m going to take orders from you just because you’re helping Dad out...’

But it didn’t need his silence to convince her that his autocratic statement was based on a great deal more than that. In exasperation, she cried, ‘Well, if it isn’t that, what is it?’

‘I’ll tell you after we’ve eaten. Now, suppose you go and get changed?’ Though phrased as a suggestion it was undoubtedly an order. And he wanted her to know it.

As she turned blindly away he cautioned, ‘Oh, and Raine, until you know exactly how things stand, it wouldn’t be wise to worry your father.’

On legs that shook a little, she hurried up the dark-oak crimson-carpeted stairs to the pleasant, lattice-windowed room she’d had since childhood.

“It wouldn’t be wise to worry your father...” While she showered the quiet warning kept ricocheting around her mind, making her wonder if Nick knew something her father was keeping from her.

Well, it was no use getting worked up about it, Raine told herself firmly, but at the first opportunity she’d have a word with Dr Broadbent.

Hands unsteady, she pulled on a silky lilac dress with a matching jacket and, to counteract Nick’s intimidating height, high-heeled sandals.

Too het up to bother with make-up, she pulled a comb through her smooth, glossy, below shoulder-length hair and picked up her bag; she was ready.

Quick as she’d been, Nick was waiting for her in the hall. He’d changed into a well-cut, lightweight suit and a pearl-grey tie, and his thick blond mane was parted on the left and neatly brushed.

Standing arrogantly at ease, head tilted a little, one hand thrust into his trouser pocket, he watched her come down the stairs, long-legged and elegant, her slender body moving gracefully.

‘Full marks for speed...’ he commented with satisfaction. Then, tilting her chin with a proprietorial hand, he studied her exquisitely boned face with its black winged brows and wide-spaced almond eyes, straight nose and generous mouth.

His gaze lingered on her mouth.

‘Don’t!’ she said sharply.

‘You have no lipstick to smudge...’

She froze into immobility and closed her eyes as his mouth moved closer and hovered. But the kiss never came. With delicate cruelty he nipped her full lower lip between his white teeth.

When her lids flew open, he said flatly, ‘Even without make-up you’re still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.’

Badly shaken, she tried mockery. ‘In a minute you’ll be telling me Kevin’s a lucky man.’

‘That’s a matter of opinion. Personally, I rate the willingness to trust a great deal higher than looks.’

The chilling put-down was delivered with a complete lack of emotion. Still it stung.

Jerking free, she retorted, ‘Was I the only one who was expected to trust you? Or did you ask your fiancée to trust you too?’

His mouth thinned. ‘I would have explained how things were if you’d given me a chance, instead of running out on me.’

‘Apart from admitting you were an unprincipled swine, how would you have “explained” seducing me while you were engaged to another woman?’

‘Hardly seducing you,’ he drawled. ‘As I recall, you were more than willing.’

Her face flamed. Unable to deny the charge, she said tightly, ‘But then I had no idea what you were really like.’

‘And you didn’t stop to find out. You weren’t prepared to even listen, let alone trust me.’

The accusation was full of anger and contempt. In that instant she knew that if he had any feeling for her now, it was hatred.

Well, that made them equal, she thought bitterly.

He lifted broad shoulders in a shrug. ‘However, that’s all in the past. It’s the future I’m concerned with, and what I want from you now doesn’t include trust.’

‘What do you want from me?’

‘Nothing you haven’t already given me.’

That sardonic statement made her blood run cold. ‘If you think—’

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.