For herself? She avoided the answer. She didn’t want money; she could earn her own living. Love was forbidden.
Who was she kidding? Certainly not herself. The thought gave her a pang.
“That’s nice,” she said vaguely as they passed a group of people who were trying to conceal their avidity. Not very well, either. This stroll was good for her, better than it was for Willow. They passed out of earshot.
“Is that a challenge?” She glanced at her rival.
A blinding flash of realization hit Scarlett. Willow wasn’t a spiteful cat, as the media painted her, well, she was, but it stemmed from emotion. The hurt in the model’s eyes, the stiffness in her body, so unusual for a model, and the way Willow refused to meet her eyes—the pain of rejection.
Scarlett knew exactly how that felt. “I wouldn’t advise you to wait. Willow, he asked me to marry him, not you.”
Willow turned her head, and Scarlett recoiled.
They exchanged a look of complete understanding. “Move on,” she said softly. “Find someone else.”
“I tried,” Willow said. “It didn’t work.” Her smile was grisly. “Don’t worry. I’ll get over it. But don’t get your hopes up.”
Pulling her arm away, Scarlett turned on her heel and strode blindly in the direction of the exit. Emotion swamped her.
Tears stung her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She was marrying a cruel man, someone who had hurt someone else, maybe knowingly. If she wasn’t careful to keep her distance, he’d do the same to her.
She could see Ethan at the other end of the room, talking to an older man. But she wouldn’t show him her vulnerability. She needed a restroom.
Following instinct, she left the room and turned left. Fortunately, it was the right direction, and she found the familiarity of the restroom. Slipping inside, she walked past the three women gossiping at the mirrors, and found a cubicle.
She would not cry, she refused to do it. The door closed and the bathroom fell silent. It only contained half a dozen stalls, so she could be fairly sure she was alone in here. They would be seating people for dinner soon. She had to get control of her emotions by then. She couldn’t sit there like the specter at the feast, wallowing in her own misery.
Deep breathing helped. So did the memory of the last few days, the intimacy she had shared with Ethan, and the trust he’d given her. Not in the bedroom, but outside it, concerning the Woodward. He’d left everything in her hands. That meant a lot to Scarlett, to have someone trust her like that. The budget he’d allotted the project was huge by her standards, but she’d account for every penny.
She let her mind drift to her old bedroom, and the other rooms in the attic space. They’d make quaint rooms, perhaps for attendant staff to the bigwigs who would stay there. A few color schemes later, she felt safe enough to leave the stall and go to the mirrors.
That was when the outer door slammed open and a woman strode in.
Scarlett didn’t know her, and prepared to top up her lipstick and leave, but the woman had tears in her eyes. The minute the door had closed, she pulled a tissue from the box on the counter and mopped her eyes with it.
The newcomer looked to be about Scarlett’s age, or maybe a few years younger. She wore a hideous yellow gown which would have been fine on someone who wasn’t a golden blonde with extremely fair skin. Her purse was matched to it. As she snapped it open the contents spilled on to the marbled surface. Dropping the tissue she made a grab for the stuff. A high-end phone nearly slid off the shiny edge of the counter, but Scarlett leaned forward and caught it. “Here you are.”
“Thanks.” The girl sniffed. “Crying is a waste of time. I need to tell him flat out that I won’t do it.”
“Let me help.” Giving up her own restoration, Scarlett grabbed a handful of tissues, and dampened them under the tap. “You’ve spread your mascara all over the place.”
“Oh, you’re a Brit.”
“People are so perceptive these days.”
The woman laughed shakily. “Yeah. It’s just that I’ve always wanted to go to Britain. Ireland, to be precise.”
“Mmm. Ireland isn’t a part of Britain.”
“Yes it is. It’s part of the geographical demarcation. But it’s not part of the United Kingdom.”
“Humph.” Scarlett wiped away more of the black stuff. “Keep still. A bit of a pedant, aren’t we?”
The woman shrugged. “Maybe. I like to get things right. Sorry I burst in on you. My name’s Violet.” She screwed up her mouth. “Vi.”
“I’m Scarlett. Okay, Vi. Do you have makeup with you? All your eye shadow has gone.”
“Good,” Violet said emphatically. “I hated it. I don’t use this style. My dad insisted I came here.”
“I see. So you’re here under duress?”
“Every bit of me.” Vi sniffed. She had eyes that matched her name, such a deep blue they were almost purple. “My father made me have my hair and makeup done. He didn’t trust me to do it on my own. He wants me to appeal to somebody here tonight, although he was talking that the engagement was a done thing.”
Oh, the tribulations of the rich! “Who does he want you to marry?”
“Ethan Black.”
Chapter Twelve
Scarlett stiffened. “Is everybody after him tonight?” What was with these people? “He’s spoken for.”
Vi grinned. “I know. It’s the best news. Sure, he’s handsome and all that, love’s young dream. But he’s not my dream.”
“Is he not?” At least this woman wasn’t going after Ethan because she wanted him. That was a relief. She had visions of fan girls screaming at him like they did for pop stars.
She heaved a great sigh that threatened to relieve her of her strapless bodice. Without looking, she reached up and hoicked it back up. “And I hate this dress. I found it on my bed tonight, with a threat.”
“What threat?”
“That my father won’t let me go back to university. I never thought he would.”
Scarlett took a good look at the woman. She’d seemed feminine enough, but perhaps she was younger than she thought. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-four. I’ve done a couple of degrees, and if I go for my doctorate I can get away. I want to go to Ireland.”
Scarlett wasn’t following. “So you want to go to Trinity College in Dublin?”
“Maybe.” Vi pulled away and stared at herself in the mirror, an unholy smile curving her pink lips. “There’s a games company in Ireland. I want to work for them, but Dad thinks it’s hogwash.” She made a sound of derision. “He even used that word. It’s like he’s living in the fifties.” Standing back, she surveyed her face in the mirror. “I’ll wash all this stuff off. Ethan Black likes his women sophisticated. He won’t want me bare-faced, even if I do flirt with him.”
It was time for Scarlett to come clean. “He’s engaged to me.”
Vi’s peal of laughter rang around the room. “Oh, that’s so good! Then all you have to do is keep being engaged to him and we’ll be fine. Except my father will be mad. He’s on the board at the Noir Group, you see.”
Didn’t Ethan tell her that most of the board were his relatives? “Aren’t you his cousin or something?”
Vi shook her head. “The daughter of the finance director. He’s not a Black, but he is Dustin Black’s best friend. I’m supposed to bring Ethan on board, drag him into the family fold. My father thinks if Ethan marries me and gets me pregnant, he’ll want the security of the money he can make, and he’ll fall into the board’s plans.” She snorted inelegantly. “As if.”
“So, Ethan knows you.” There she went, starting a sentence with “so,” after she’d promised herself not to.
“He’s seen me a couple of times, but not taken any notice of me. Why should he?”
She was pretty, and obviously intelligent. “What’s not to like about him?”
Vi spread her hands out. “I don’t want to marry, not yet. I want to do other stuff.”
And her father wouldn’t allow it. Maybe Scarlett could do some good tonight, after all. “Well, wash your face, put on some lipstick and we’ll go back. When your father sees me with Ethan, he’ll get the message.”
When she entered the ballroom with Vi, people had already settled for dinner. While she was looking around, Ethan appeared at her elbow, nodded to Vi and took them both to the table upfront. “Where did you get to?” he asked pleasantly, but there was an edge of concern in his voice. Had he been worried about her?
“Girl talk,” Scarlett said briefly, and offered him a sweet smile. If anyone wanted to take pictures, they’d get snaps of a couple dreamily in love. She was learning. She had to. Less a lion’s den, more a nest of vipers.
Ethan took his time seating her, and then attended briefly to Vi, giving her a tight grin and saying, “Good to see you again, kid.”
“Thanks for that,” Violet said dryly, picking up her napkin.
Ethan introduced Scarlett to their dining companions. As expected, they included his father, his stepmother, Vi’s parents, and Willow. Scarlett gave them all a civil nod, but her appetite melted away.
As they put delicacy after delicacy before her she picked at each one, and answered the conversation mechanically. Dustin Black stared at her, and once she caught the kind of gleam in his eye that appalled her. But perhaps that was just his way, or she’d misconstrued him. He paid attention to his pretty wife, who said nothing of real importance. But then, neither did Scarlett.
She was angry at herself for behaving like a stereotypical wife, agreeing with her husband, and keeping quiet in the long conversations. And she wasn’t even a wife yet. To do him justice, Ethan didn’t take place in the mansplaining orgy that was going on. He referred to her a few times, and finally gave up, when she couldn’t respond. It was as if her brain cells had been replaced by cotton wool. This time, she didn’t even try to pretend to sip any of the wines offered to her. If anyone asked, she’d say she wanted to keep her wits about her. Not the greatest excuse, but the attention lavished on Ethan and her as a couple seemed to have tailed off some. There were plenty of celebrities here tonight.
Scarlett disliked Dustin on sight. Even if she hadn’t heard about his father from Ethan, she’d have disliked him. The elegant man, dressed immaculately, silver hair brushed straight back from his forehead was arrogant, but then many people in his position were. But he was also effusive, expecting to be the center of attention.
Picking through her entrée, Scarlett pricked up her ears when Dustin addressed her. “You’re a hotel owner yourself, aren’t you?”
How to answer that without giving too much away? Beside her, Ethan tensed. She lifted her head, not letting the sudden silence that had fallen over the table intimidate her. “I was. But it was a family business and when my father fell ill, there was only me. As I’m sure you know, running a hotel is a tough business. So I decided to sell.”
“Who to?”
The question came so fast she almost answered it. Hyperaware of Ethan’s mood, she answered, “I can’t answer that, I’m afraid. There was a strict nondisclosure agreement attached to the sale. I’m sure you understand. If I let out something like that, the sale would become null.”
“So, you’re a wealthy woman?” That came from Violet’s father.
“Somewhat.” She speared a piece of glazed carrot and ate it. She granted him a smooth smile. “Not as wealthy as you, I’ll bet.”
“Probably not.” Violet’s father’s self-satisfied smile confirmed her opinion of him.
She didn’t like him, and she never would. But she would keep her responses cordial, for Ethan’s sake.
Ethan who had said nothing during this exchange, relaxed.
“I consider entertaining guests part of my job,” Ethan’s stepmother, who couldn’t be older than him, commented. “You’ll find your experience very useful.”
Scarlett bridled. So, all her expertise running a hotel was practice for becoming a good wife?
“I prefer to use catering companies,” Ethan answered. He put his hand over hers. “They aren’t expected to entertain. And neither do I. That isn’t what I want Scarlett for.”
Heat flashed between them when she turned her head to catch his smiling gaze. And everybody saw it. They must have; it was as clear as a blue sky. For a second, maybe two, nobody else existed. He reached for her, as he did in private, but drew back, and sharply turned away, picking up his wineglass.
Scarlett triumphed. He hadn’t meant to do that. He had betrayed a fraction of their private life before everyone. In his terms, he’d made himself vulnerable. But he had also strengthened her position. Before her, his affairs had been fleeting and meaningless. He would not have given any of his previous lovers the intimate smile that had curved his lips. Heat, yes, because that was the point. But over the last few days they’d discussed more than sex, had shared more than their bodies.
Willow cleared her throat. “So sweet.” The deeply sugary tone she used told everyone what she thought of that.
Ethan glanced at her and raised a brow. “I’m delighted you think so, darling.” He drawled the word.
Scarlett was happy he had never called her that, especially in that tone. She’d have shriveled up if he had.
Willow merely hunched a shoulder and turned away to talk to someone else.
The next table held members of the Black family, most of whom glared at her. One man eyed her as if she was a delicious morsel on his plate. She’d show him how morsels could hit back if he wasn’t careful. Smooth, polished and handsome, the man looked as if he hadn’t done a day’s work in his life. Not that she’d ever think that about Ethan. After all, she’d seen him in her kitchen, fighting a fire. He didn’t look at all immaculate after that.
With a sense of relief, she refused dessert, forcing a smile when her future father-in-law told her she was sweet enough.
Then came the speeches. Just one, reminding the illustrious guests of the cause they were donating to tonight, but no distressing pictures of the people the cause would benefit. Everyone applauded politely. Then the dancing started.
Before Ethan could ask her, his father had rounded the table and stood behind her chair. “Dance with me.” It sounded like a command.
“I would love to.” She shot Ethan a warning glance, trying to tell him she could handle this, even though she wasn’t sure she could. But they wouldn’t have anyone listening in to them. She could answer him frankly and perhaps that was what he needed.
Throughout the meal everyone watched Ethan, as if he held the answer to everything. In effect, he did. He was keeping the Noir Group afloat. He had trusted her with some figures from the Noir balance sheet, and she had seen exactly how hard he worked. Little “economies” were tucked in, like not replacing the shuttle buses with newer ones, or buying cheaper computers for the staff. False economies.
But he was immaculately dressed, and the diamonds in his cuff links were real. His pale blue eyes were guileless.
For a split second, she thought she had misjudged him. Until she recalled the balance sheets and company records Ethan had shown her. Then she knew she wasn’t mistaken.
She let him lead her to the dance floor with one hand tucked in the small of her back. If she’d worn a backless gown he’d be touching her bare flesh now. Ugh. Her shudder was entirely involuntary.
“Something wrong?” he asked as he turned to her, laying one arm around her waist and picking up her limp hand with the other.
“Nothing, thank you.”
He smoothed his thumb over the ring as he led her into the dance. “Nice diamond.”
“Thank you.”
“Did you know it was for sale at auction a few months ago? A jeweler bought the stone for three million, I think it was. Or it could have been four.”
Her eyes widened, but she said nothing. She’d known it was expensive, but four million dollars? How could she wear that? The ring needed its own bodyguard.
“No comment?”
“I’m minding my steps,” she said tartly.
“If you leave my son, I’ll make sure you keep it. That will ensure your future, won’t it?”
Leave him? She hadn’t expected such a direct approach. “Why would I do that?”
“Because I will make his life extremely difficult if you do not.” He executed a perfect turn, taking her with him.
Scarlett was hit by a strong urge to break away, to leave this vile man who cared for nothing except himself. “In what way?”
“I have the board. He won’t be able to pass any of his reforms. They’re far too expensive. The hotel business is in a state of decline. You know that. We need to move with the times, which means economies have to happen.”
The extrapolation was simply not true. The tourist market and the luxury market were flourishing. That was why she’d tried to hook into tourism, before Ethan had blown into her life. The top and bottom ends of the market were doing fine. The people in the middle were taking most of the hits.
“The Noir Group can easily afford proper renovations.” She met his gaze fearlessly. It wasn’t fair that his eyes were so like his son’s.
He smiled, but there was no humor in it, no sincerity. “We should sell the group. I’m already talking to people about it. Cut our losses and get out while we can.”
“And destroy your legacy?”
His lids lowered over those blue orbs. “A legacy is only worthwhile when there’s profit to be made. My son is an idealist. By the time he realizes we’re done, there’ll be nothing left. I’m trying to prevent that.”
And he’d put thousands of people out of work without a qualm. Scarlett had no doubts about that. “You know he’ll block the sale.”
“Maybe. If he marries Violet I’m sure she can make him see sense.” She wanted to leave but he whisked her past their table.
What was the point of talking to him? But she had to. “Violet doesn’t want to marry him.”
“She does and she will. Whatever she said to you in private, I’m sure it was the panic of a girl faced with the man she’s had a crush on for years.” He was in full flow now. “And he wants her. Did you know that? Her family was always in our house. He’s been watching her for years, waiting for her to grow up.”
Captive Hearts (Hearts on Fire Book 2) Page 15