Page 175 of The Black Trilogy

“Go on, I need one more dance with somebody who knows where to put her feet.”

“I’m tired.”

“Don’t let Alex hear you say that.”

“Good thing he’s not here then, isn’t it?”

Nick wrapped his arms around my waist. “Please, baby? You always make me look good.”

That flipping smile. I’d never been able to resist it. Or the tango.

I’d shown Nick how to ballroom dance many years ago, after my husband taught me. My background was in a completely different kind of dancing, but it turned out to be a transferrable skill, and knowing a few steps came in useful at the tedious number of social functions we had to attend. My husband had learned his moves when he was young, at the insistence of a mother who’d decreed that all young men should know how to entertain a lady.

I was sure he had other, better ways of doing that, but I’d never got the chance to find out for myself. And now I never would.

The band seemed to up both the tempo and the volume as we got closer. Ryan stuck a fricking rose between my teeth, and for five blessed minutes, I got lost in the music. The click of my heels on the floor. Nick’s heart beating against mine.

Then I opened my eyes and saw the man I’d considered spending the rest of my life with staring at us with barely disguised disgust.

Fantastic.

Well, at least that answered my earlier question: no, I didn’t dare to speak to Luke. A civil conversation would be out of the question, and I wasn’t about to cause a scene at an event so many people had spent time organising. It would overshadow the whole evening.

No, now was the right time to leave. I could consider my next move from a safe distance.

I motioned to a waiter, and a minute later my coat appeared. Nick helped me into it. A couple of the Blackwood crew waved goodbye, but most simply groaned. That open bar had taken its toll.

A sleek black Mercedes waited at the kerb, engine running. Nick opened the door, and I lowered myself gracefully into the back. No tabloid moments for me. Nick climbed in too and the driver closed out the world, cocooning us in relative safety as he whisked us back to Albany House.

So, that went well.

CHAPTER 14

AS LUKE STOOD outside with Rob and Mark, he resisted the urge to kick something. Or better still, someone. He dug his fingernails into the palms of his tightly clenched fists while he waited for his chauffeur to show up, cursing under his breath.

So much for a nice night out to take his mind off Ash.

Not only had she magically reappeared with a new name and a new look, she appeared to have a new boyfriend too. She didn’t hang around, did she?

Or worse, was he an old boyfriend? After all, Ash, or Emerson, it would now appear, had called Nick right after Tia got kidnapped. They obviously had a history.

What was she playing at? Had she been seeing Nick all along? If so, she must have been creative when she explained her time in England. What did Nick think she’d been doing while she shared Luke’s bed? Working? Staying with friends? Maybe she’d lied to both of them, the cheating cow.

Whatever story she’d spun, Nick certainly hadn’t seemed upset with her tonight, not with the way he’d gazed into her eyes. He’d fed her dessert, for crying out loud. And he certainly hadn’t looked unhappy when they’d taken to the dance floor for a particularly grubby tango either. Most of the men watching had got hard-ons from her slinky moves, and the rest had probably forgotten their Viagra.

Well, apart from one. Luke was the exception, because watching that dirty little display on the dance floor had left him feeling nauseous. He’d wanted to storm out, but his feet had refused to move as he took in the delicate arch of her back... The way her hips swivelled in time to the music... The taut muscles in her calf as she wrapped it around Nick’s thigh…

Enough!

He’d screwed his eyes shut, angry at his lack of self-control, and when he opened them again, it was just in time to see the scarlet swish of Emerson’s dress as she left the ballroom on Nick’s arm. No doubt they were en-route to some posh hotel to dance the tango horizontally instead. Or that enormous mansion in London where Luke had been sequestered while they searched for Tia. Who owned it? Did it belong to Nick? The man reeked of success in every way.

Looks.

Money.

The guy who always got the girl.

How many more lies had Emerson told? Luke thought back to the rumours flying around Lower Foxford when she first came to the village. Ash had been engaged, Carol from the Women’s Institute told him in the bakery one day, but her fiancé cheated on her. Was Nick the guy who did the dirty? Had Ash forgiven his transgressions and taken him back?

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