Page 41 of Bad Luck Bride

“Pure fiction,” she assured him. “I’m surprised she didn’t say I was quarantined with some bizarre fever no one’s ever heard of before. Nonetheless, I’m perfectly well. Is that why you’re here?” she added. “Because you were worried about me?”

Even as she asked the question, she knew it was absurd.

His amusement vanished. He met her gaze, shaking the dark hair back from his brow like a defiant stallion. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I was.”

Her lips parted, but no words came out. With that one word, the warmth of embarrassment intensified, spreading outward, transforming into something else entirely, something that made her feel as if she’d just downed a snifter of brandy. Beneath the hem of her nightgown, she curled her bare toes into the plush Aubusson carpet.

“So if you’re not ill,” he went on when she didn’t reply, “then why aren’t you at the party? Unless—”

He broke off, and with mercurial suddenness, his amusement returned. “Still running from me, are you?” he asked, folding his arms and rocking back on his heels, smiling, looking far too pleased with himself all of a sudden. “What are you so afraid of?”

Had he dumped ice water over her head, he couldn’t have doused the warmth inside Kay more effectively. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she said coolly. “I’m not the least bit afraid of you. If I were,” she went on as he made a sound of disbelief, “I’d never have let you in just now.”

He lifted his hands in a self-evident gesture. “Well, then, why are you here, avoiding me, instead of at the party?”

“Listen to the man!” she cried, rolling her eyes. “My decision to not attend the party has nothing to do with you, you conceited oaf.”

“No?”

“No! I’m not at the party,” she added crossly as he continued to stare at her in obvious skepticism, “because I wasn’t allowed to go.”

“What?” He gave a laugh. “Kay, you’re not a child. You’re not eventhe adolescent girl who was so sick at the idea of disappointing and disgracing her parents that she left me flat in a Birmingham inn. You’re a woman of thirty-two,” he added, ducking his head to study her face when she looked away. “Isn’t it time to cut the apron strings?”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” she shot back. “It was not my mother who forbade me to go to the party. It was—”

She stopped, sensing she was heading into deep waters, but when she saw his humor vanish once again, she knew she’d given the game away.

“Wait,” he ordered, holding up one hand, palm toward her, his expression one of disbelief. “You mean, it was Rycroft? He ordered you not to come?”

She didn’t reply, because, after all, what could she say?

“And you knuckled under?” Devlin went on in the wake of her silence, his voice low, vibrating with sudden anger. “Tohim?”

“I didn’t knuckle under,” she denied, even as she knew that was precisely what she’d done. “I chose,” she went on, working to muster her dignity, “to honor his request that I not attend.”

The frown on his face deepened to an absolute scowl. “My God,” he muttered, shaking his head, “fourteen years, and nothing’s changed with you, has it? You’re still letting your life be dictated by what other people want and expect of you.”

That accusation touched on her already raw mood and ignited her temper, mainly because she knew there was some truth in it. “You don’t know anything about me,” she cried. “Or my situation, or what I’m forced to do—”

Again, she stopped, hand over her mouth, but it was too late. What was it about this man that always loosened her tongue? she wondered in aggravation. He could pull secrets out of a sphinx.

“Forced how?” The words out of his mouth were like a whip, cracking in the air.

She tried to turn away, but he put his hands on her arms to stop her. “What’s that bastard doing to you?”

“Nothing.” Kay took a deep breath, striving to regain a sense of discretion. “It’s not what you think.”

“No? Then what is it? The money? You just want to marry a millionaire, is that it? Is staying in the lap of luxury worth selling yourself?”

She jerked free. “That’s a laughable question, coming from you.”

“Are we now talking about my reasons for marrying Pam? Because,” he added as she pressed her lips together and didn’t answer, “last time we met, you practically accused me of marrying Pam for her money, so let me set you straight about that. Pam’s father is absolutely flat. She’s got no dowry to offer.”

“I’m not talking about her.” Kay drew a deep breath. “I’m talking about you and the money you took.”

“What money?”

“What money do you think? The money my father paid you to go away, of course!”

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