Page 39 of His Wedding Day Revenge

‘Just spit it out,cara.’

‘I was worrying that...’ The words came in a rush. ‘Will there be people there who were at the...wedding?’

‘You think they will recognise you? You were hardly there long enough for that.’

The acid sarcasm brought a flush to her pale cheeks. She touched her red hair, which today she had loosely gathered in a knot from which bronzed curls spilled out and framed her face.

‘People see the hair.’

‘Indeed they do,’ he agreed as he thought of the texture, how it looked spread out on the pillow catching the sun and burning burnished gold when she lay sleeping in the morning.

‘There is no need to be concerned. It is a different set of guests, diverse, but all people whose attendance will raise the profile of the event and hopefully more to follow. Also I am announcing the launch of a prize for an eco-initiative for young people. These guests are contacts that will be useful. It is not black tie tonight, but I can have a selection of outfits—’

Exasperated, she cut across him. ‘We have already had this discussion, Draco, and I’m not wearing jeans and a nice top, if that is what you’re worried about.’ Actually Luciana, the willowy Italian girl, had offered her a dress that, though mini on its owner, would have been mid-calf on Jane, but with the waist cinched in would have done nicely. She had found a suitable belt but then found the rather nicer alternative.

‘I think you look delightful in jeans.’ He quite enjoyed peeling them down her slim legs. The top was to his mind nice or otherwise optional.

‘I have my outfit sorted. I found something in town this morning.’

He looked dubious. ‘There are not many shops in—’

She gave a small smile and sighed at his persistence. ‘You mean designer shops and no, there aren’t, but there are a few really good small independent stores and I discovered an absolutely incredible vintage shop. The flamboyant elderly lady who owned it had many tales to tell of her time working in the film industry.’

At one point she had brought out an album of signed photos of old film stars, pleased to find an audience that was genuinely fascinated.

Jane had come away with the blue silk thirties dress in really great condition, which was now hanging behind her door, and the promise that the next time she came there would be cakes.

Jane had assured her that cakes would be much appreciated, feeling sad when she’d realised that she wouldn’t be here for a return visit.

The dress needed a few tweaks but nothing that was beyond her capabilities. Would that her life could be sorted so painlessly—a snip here, a stitch there.

‘I don’t think she does it for the money. I think she just loves beautiful things.’

‘You bought a second-hand dress?’ He sounded so comically shocked at the idea that she smiled as she gestured to the dress.

‘I did.’

‘You are wearing that?’

‘How lucky I don’t need your approval to feel good about myself,’ she tossed back. ‘It was a bargain. I felt quite guilty.’

Seeing the antagonistic challenge in the eyes turned to him, Draco swallowed the protest on his lips. Obviously she would look gorgeous in anything, but she deserved to wear beautiful clothes and not someone’s hand-me-downs.

‘So what time would you like to walk across?’

She raised a feathery brow. ‘To the party? Oh, I’ll make my own way across.’

She saw his jaw clamp but he didn’t say a word as he pushed his hands into his pockets and turned to the window. She sighed. Draco’s back was very expressive.

She finished folding the last of the baby sleep suits, extracted a grumbling Mattie from his stroller and, performing a soothing jiggle to quieten the baby, walked across to where Draco stood, a tower of glowering disapproval.

‘I don’t know why you are being so cranky.’

He spun around to face her. ‘Cranky?’ he echoed, sounding so incredulous at the suggestion that she almost laughed, but stopped herself, realising that might be unnecessarily provocative.

She glanced down at the baby in her arms, whose eyes had drifted closed, but, to be on the safe side, didn’t stop rocking him. ‘Well, it is sometimes difficult to work out who the baby in the room is.’

His expression of utter outraged astonishment drew a short laugh from her throat...before she held her breath, waiting for him to explode. She released it again when he laughed, reluctantly, but Jane decided she’d take it.

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