Page 41 of His Wedding Day Revenge

Was he arguing with her or his own responses?

Turning her head to deliver an exasperated glare, Jane caught an indecipherable expression on Draco’s face, but by the time she had laid the drowsy baby in his buggy it had gone.

Draco watched as she dropped into a chair before hooking one small foot onto the metal rest intended for a bag and on auto pilot began to push it back and forth with a metronome regularity meant to soothe the baby to sleep.

She looked exhausted.

Emotions he kept a tight hold of threatened to break loose in his chest as he studied her face, the shadows under her green eyes, the pallor that made the sprinkling of freckles stand out across her nose and cheeks.

She had looked exhausted last night when she had brought the baby back to bed and kicked him out, so much so that he had heard himself offer to take the baby for a drive. He had heard it said—where, he couldn’t remember—that this was helpful for some crying babies.

She had looked at him really oddly and said thanks, but no, thanks, she...they were fine, as if she was drawing a firm line around an inner circle he would never be allowed inside.

Not that he wanted to be, obviously.

‘Yes.’

He shook his head.

‘Yes, I am trying to make a point. I am going to this cocktail party on my own, not as some sort of arm-candy accessory. Nobody will ever treat me seriously if they think I am your latest girlfriend.’

She made it sound as if it were the worst fate in the world! Controlling his slug of anger and the impulse to respond with a childish retort along the lines of she should be so lucky, which would have made him sound like the total loser she appeared to think he was, he rose to his feet, the abrupt action making the baby stir in his sleep, which earned him a reproachful look from under her lashes.

It was bizarre, almost as if he had walked into an alternative reality. He spent his days sidestepping the women who threw themselves at him, never hearing no if he chose to assuage his physical needs, and here was Jane keeping him at arm’s length.

Arm’s length was generally where he wanted to be, so the situation should have pleased him.

He dragged both hands through his hair and stalked across to the window before turning back.

‘So am I allowed to remember your name?’ he wondered with withering scorn. ‘Or should I perhaps bring someone else?’

The thought of Draco draped over another woman made her feel physically sick. Her chin went up. ‘You can do what the hell you like,’ she said with an unconcerned shrug.

As he stalked down the corridor he stopped short when he suddenly realised she was treating him like a sex object...so why the hell was he getting so irate about it?

Considering the way they left off, Jane wasn’t sure what sort of reception she would get from Draco at the cocktail party. She was not looking forward to making a solo entrance and was glad she bumped into Joe and Luciana in the cloakroom as she handed in her silk wrap.

‘Oh, wow, you look gorgeous!’ Luciana exclaimed. ‘I just love that dress. I can’t believe it’s the same one you bought in that vintage shop.’

Jane nodded a little self-consciously. ‘Thank you, it needed a few tweaks.’ She had stripped the dress down to its basics, removing the fussy frills around the neckline and the gaudy sash to reveal the simplicity of the blue silk underneath, the bodice that hugged and the bias-cut skirt that flared and swished around her calves.

‘The shoes are new though,’ she said, extending a slim ankle for inspection. ‘I haven’t got a clue why I packed them,’ she admitted, looking at the pointy-toed spiky heels that had been a bargain buy in a sale...impractical but beautiful. ‘I felt tall until I saw you, Luciana.’

The willowy young Italian smiled. ‘I thought Joe might take me out somewhere. That’s why I put this in.’ The Italian girl laughed and gave a twirl, the beaded hem of her mini rattling as she did so.

Her English boyfriend, a good foot shorter and wearing a tweed waistcoat over his best jeans, responded with a loud,‘Bella!’in a Liverpudlian accent and dragged her in for a kiss.

Watching their youthful and carefree antics made Jane feel a hundred years old. They were so spontaneous, so unencumbered with complications—so in love!

‘It’s gorgeous. If I had your legs,’ Jane said, admiring the girl’s slim, endless legs with envy, ‘I’d wear it every day. You make me feel like a dwarf.’

The laugh, a rather grating artificial sound, made them all turn.

‘You aren’t tall, are you?’ The remark came from a stranger who was peeling off a fur wrap.

Her heels made Jane’s look like flats and her silver dress, which appeared glued to her body, displayed every curve of her lush, voluptuous figure.

‘Hello,’ Jane said a little awkwardly, because the normally warm and welcoming Luciana had not responded at all beyond taking her boyfriend’s arm in a tight warning grip.

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