Page 45 of His Wedding Day Revenge

His chest lifted in a laugh. ‘Really,cara, it was good of you to rescue him. She...his mother, Christina.’ On his lips the name sounded like a curse. ‘She is a vindictive bitch, utterly selfish, but, more than that, vicious, and let’s just say that when they were handing out maternal instincts she was not at the back of the queue. She missed it totally.

‘She traumatised him when he was a kid. Her voice could make him shake. It wasn’t physical abuse, it was—’ He heaved a deep sigh. ‘The best thing she ever did for Jamie was desert him.’

‘Why did you invite her?’

‘Invite?’ he exploded, looking outraged, then, in response to her widened eyes, lowered his tone as he explained. ‘It seems like she came as a plus one and ditched her escort the moment the helicopter landed. I don’t know why she’s here but I’m assuming it’s not concern for our mental well-being! Look, let’s not talk about her just now...’ he said, drawing her into his body.

Jane had no issue with this suggestion.

She lifted her head and placed a hand on his chest. ‘Draco, the music has stopped.’

He stood still and Jane caught a dazed look drift across his face as he saw the people leaving the floor and others moving in to take their places as the music struck up a jazzy number. Well, as jazzy as a string quartet went.

Jane watched his previously distracted expression clear as he scanned the room with a practised eye. ‘There are people I have to talk to.’

Was she imagining the underlying hint of frustration in his lean face? ‘We will talk later,’ he said, pulling back, but leaving his hand on the base of her spine as they left. The gesture felt possessive, and she found herself wondering if other people saw it that way.

‘Maybe we should be careful. People might make the connection, put two and two together and—’ She gestured with her head. A few loose curls had already escaped the Grecian coil at her neck that had taken ages for someone whose idea of a hairdo was a comb and shake. ‘I think people are looking.’

He stopped as they reached the edge of the area that had become an impromptu dance floor and tugged her around to face him. ‘Of course they are looking, you look... That is your second-hand dress?’

She felt his warm gaze move over her body. ‘Vintage,’ she corrected, her green eyes laughing up at him. ‘It is also much greener to shop locally, as you should know,’ she reproached, tongue in cheek.

‘So true, and here is someone you might like to educate on that subject... Tabitha Greenwood, Jane Smith... Tabitha is a—’

‘I know who Miss Greenwood is!’ Jane protested, flushing as she smiled at the fashion designer with the international reputation, who was instantly recognisable even if she had changed her hair colour from jet black to platinum blonde. ‘Hello,’ she said to the woman studying her with open curiosity through a pair of massive pink designer glasses.

‘Jane was just lecturing me on waste in fashion. She’s a big fan of charity-shop bargains.’

‘Actually, I am.’ She slung a look up at Draco. ‘He is putting words in my mouth and I am quite capable of speaking for myself.’

‘Well, that is telling you!’ cried the other woman, looking amused by the interchange.

‘Actually my dress—’

‘Vintage,’ the designer cut in, casting an expert eye over the blue silk gown. ‘It is gorgeous and, I suspect, updated a little?’ She quirked a quizzical eye at Jane, who nodded.

‘I can’t really do frills.’ She grinned and made an expressive sweeping gesture towards her foot. ‘I’m too short.’

The other woman, who was a sturdily constructed five nine, smiled back. ‘But perfectly formed, as they say, don’t you think so, Draco?’

Draco gave her a sardonic smile and said nothing.

‘See you later, enjoy...’ He paused and swung back. ‘Have you eaten anything more substantial than a canapé?’

Jane, who hadn’t had a canapé yet and was very aware of the speculative gleam in the birdlike gaze of the designer, shook her head in irritation. ‘Don’t fuss.’ To prove a point she grabbed a handful of canapés from a tray and put them one by one into her mouth. The last one was rather delicious. ‘Happy now?’ she challenged.

Never as happy as when I am looking at you.

The extraordinary recognition just popped fully formed into his head.

As there was no answering grin, her own smile faded. His expression was about as revealing as bulletproof steel shutters. It made her realise that she had not seen that closed-off look in a while, and she really hadn’t missed it!

Watching the tall figure stride away, the two women exchanged glances.

‘What was that about?’ the older woman wondered.

‘Not got a clue,’ Jane said with a tight, strained smile.

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