by Неизвестный
might be the perfect antidote to Dana.”
Fresh annoyance surged through Connor at the memory of overhearing Suzy telling her friend that he’d
been dumped by his girlfriend. And the sympathy in her eyes when she’d said she understood why he
was upset.
Upset? Hell, he wasn’t upset. He was damned mad.
Mad at Dana. Mad at Paul Harper. Mad at Michael for divulging a confidence. And mad at the irritating,
interfering witch who’d forced an apology out of him.
Breathing deeply, he said, “I gather you told Suzy all about Dana?”
Michael extracted a set of car keys from his pants pocket and activated the remote to unlock the doors.
“How could I not? She would’ve found out anyway.”
“My business partner and my girlfriend…and I was the last to know.” Connor tried to laugh as he went
around to the passenger side. “Soap opera stuff, huh?”
The raw hurt and betrayal that two days earlier had scorched all the way to his soul resurfaced. He hated
the thought of people picking over the details of his devastated life.
“What Paul did was unforgivable.” Michael’s mouth was firm as he settled in the seat beside Connor.
“And Dana was more than your girlfriend. The woman’s been living with you for nearly two years. Hell,
you even made her a director of Harper-North.”
How Connor regretted Wednesday’s drunken bout of self-pity. He’d been away, laying the groundwork
to open Harper-North’s first Australian office. On his return from Sydney, Dana had hit him with the
news that their relationship was over. She had a new lover—the man he’d gone to university with, the
man he’d founded a business with. His best friend. His former best friend.
Connor had gone to Michael’s house, gotten drunk, and blurted it all out. Dumb.
“The whole world shifted on its axis in the three weeks I was gone.” Connor raked his hands through his
hair. It needed a cut. The mundane thought steadied him. “Came back to find my life in uproar and you
planning marriage.” He shook his head. “Crazy.”
“Not that crazy. I’ve know Suzy a while, even though we only started dating about a month ago.”
“A month?” Connor raised his brows. “After two years I didn’t know what kind of treachery Dana was
capable of. You should’ve taken more time.”
“A month. A year. Two years. It’s not going to make a difference to how I feel about Suzy.”
“So what makes you so sure Suzy isn’t after a lifelong meal ticket?”
A chuckle filled the car. “Mate, I’m not the billionaire here. I don’t wear thousand-dollar suits—”
Michael gave Connor’s Armani a mocking inspection “—drive a Maserati, or live in a marble mansion.”
“I don’t live there anymore.”
This week’s showdown came back to haunt Connor. Paul had already moved into his house with Dana.
But he’d wring every cent that he could from the pair of them in exchange for the mansion that Dana
had craved…and the share of Harper-North that Connor had walked away from. They weren’t going to
get off scott-free.
“Sorry.” The laughter faded from Michael’s eyes. “But trust me, Suzy’s not marrying me for money.
She’s a teacher, just like me, so our incomes are pretty equal.”
Dana had been trying to wheedle an engagement ring out of Connor for ages. His thoughts came to a
grinding halt. Had Suzy tricked Michael into a proposal with the oldest trick in the book?
“What about children?” Connor prodded. Dana had begged for a child. But Connor had resisted. He
hadn’t wanted marriage—which he suspected was the real reason for Dana’s desperate desire for a child.
A child would’ve been a mistake. They were both too busy for kids, he’d told her.
Michael turned the key in the ignition. His jaw had firmed and his hands gripped the steering wheel.
“I’m not asking if this woman’s already pregnant,” Connor lied hastily as the motor took. “Just
wondering if she views you as a father figure for any children she has.” A high school guidance
counselor, Michael would make the perfect mark for a solo mother wanting financial and emotional
support.
“She doesn’t have any.” The reply was clipped.
“That’s a relief. I was worried she might be a desperate divorcée.” Connor paused as they rolled down a
narrow lane lined with clipped hedges that hid the church from view.
“She’s divorced but she’s not desperate.” Michael’s jaw jutted out, a sign of the stubborn streak that
usually remained hidden beneath his affable, calm exterior. “You’ll like Suzy, Connor—if you let
yourself. There’s no catch.”
Connor stared at Michael’s profile, aware he wasn’t getting anywhere. The strange notion that his
orderly life had spun out of control increased. He shook his head. “You’re not listening. There’s always
a catch.”
“Of course I’m listening.”
“But?” Something about the set of Michael’s jaw told Connor this was one of the rare times that none of
his arguments were going to succeed.
In the years he’d been playing squash with Michael he’d come to value the calm, unconditional
friendship they’d forged. Connor often offered Michael financial advice, and only twice had Michael
disregarded it. The first time Michael had lost thousands on a development that went belly up. The
second time Connor had advised him to steer clear of a derelict Edwardian cottage on a busy road.
Michael had wanted to use an unexpected legacy from a great-aunt as a deposit. Connor had warned him
the restoration would devour money faster than a hungry loan shark.
But Michael had bought the place anyway and spent every weekend working on it. Connor had taken to
dropping by on Sunday afternoons to lend Michael a hand—much to Dana’s disgust—and the manual
labor involved in stripping old paint-work and restoring the cottage had proved extremely rewarding. As
the house took shape Connor finally admitted he’d been wrong. Despite the exorbitant amount of time
and money it consumed, Michael’s home was special.
It had reminded him of the days when he and Paul had first started out, fired by dreams of preserving as
many forgotten buildings as they could.
When had they lost that idealism? When had it all become about the next million?
Yet just because Michael had been right about that old place of his didn’t mean this madly rushed
marriage would work out, Connor decided as they waited for a break in the traffic.
“But…Suzy’s nothing like Dana.”
Connor bristled at the mention of Dana’s name. “I never said she was.”
Michael threw him a disbelieving look. “Don’t let what Dana did embitter you. I think you’re well rid of
her. I never liked her, you know. You deserve someone better.”
“Right now I’m hardly in the mood to play dating games,” Connor growled.
“You’ll get over it.” Michael nosed the Toyota onto the road that ran past the front of the church. “We’ll
find someone to kiss your broken heart better at the wedding tomorrow.”
Connor gave him a baleful glare. “My heart isn’t broken.”
“No,” Michael agreed. “It’s your pride that’s battered.”
“Thanks, mate, I really needed to hear that!”
Michael was still laughing as they pulled up in front of the church gate where the bride and her maid of
honor waited.
to her. There was not a hint of feminine flounce in the straight black skirt, black stockings or the tailored
white shirt. Yet when she moved toward the car, she carried herself with an easy, swinging grace that
contrasted sharply with her coolly composed features.
“Best therapy right now would be another woman. Victoria—”
“No.” Connor looked away from the termagant and directed a stony stare at Michael. “I definitely don’t
need another hard-boiled career woman with her eye on the main chance. So don’t try any matchmaking
tonight or you’ll be looking for a new best man for your wedding tomorrow.”
Two
C onnor barely noticed the radiant beauty of the stained-glass window backlit by the afternoon sun. Or
how the kaleidoscopic light fell onto the faces of bride and groom, giving them an otherworldly quality.
Instead he stood stiffly next to her behind the bridal pair as they exchanged vows, Michael’s voice deep
and serious, Suzy sounding much breathier.
His anger at her had driven away his annoyance that Michael had dared to discuss Connor’s abortive
personal affairs with Suzy. He couldn’t bear the thought of being pitied by anyone.
Although he could hardly accuse her of pitying him.
Unwillingly Connor slanted a sideways look at the maid of honor. He’d planned to ignore her today.
She’d said little at dinner last night. Despite his threats to Michael, his and Suzy’s matchmaking efforts
had been irritatingly obvious, and Connor had no intention of giving the argumentative woman any
encouragement. The next woman he dated would be pure entertainment…no strings and plenty of hot
sex. Not another high-flyer married to her career.
Her pallor last night had suggested she’d be more prone to headaches than hot sex. So had her attitude—
she’d excused herself just after eleven, pleading exhaustion, but when he’d offered her a ride home
she’d given him a look that suggested she’d rather eat slugs, and insisted on calling a taxi.
He had to admit she looked much better today. Suzy’s doing, no doubt. He almost hadn’t recognized her
at the church door. Only her height—she was tall, her head coming up to his chin—her slender body and
those wary hazel eyes had identified her.
Yet she was impossible to ignore.
Yesterday’s rumpled white shirt and black sacklike skirt had given way to an ultrafeminine dress of
some pale, gauzy fabric that turned what he could see of her skin to the delicious luminescence of pearl.
She’d done something different with her hair, too, twisting the dark strands up so it exposed the soft,
pale skin of her neck, and a couple of loose tendrils brushed the slope of her shoulders.
And all that bare, feminine skin tempted him to touch, to stroke.
What the hell was he thinking? One week without a woman to call his own and even this plain, uptight
female was starting to look attractive.
Despite Michael’s advice, the last thing he needed in his life was a woman. Even if he did, this one
didn’t qualify—she was way too intense. And, as Suzy’s best friend, too complicated.
A hush fell over the church and he turned his head to watch Michael slip a plain gold band onto Suzy’s
finger. There was a moment where the world seemed to hold its breath, and Michael looked positively
bewitched.
Connor let out the breath he was holding.
He should’ve advised Michael on the wedding band. Women liked diamonds. Dana would’ve demanded
a humdinger—for investment purposes of course. Michael should at least have had a row of diamonds
channel set.
The priest was giving Michael permission to kiss the bride. Connor blanked out the sighs from the
congregation and his awareness of the woman standing beside him, and found himself hoping Suzy
would be more trustworthy than Dana had been.
Then, thankfully, the service was over. As they filed out of the church Connor pulled out his BlackBerry
and made a note to himself about a meeting with a Realtor to look at new offices that he’d remembered
he was supposed to attend on Monday.
The maid of honor—he really should remember her name—was glaring at him. Guiltily he stuck the
BlackBerry back in his pocket.
“Wait,” she ordered as he headed for the stairs. “Michael and Suzy will want a photo at the church door.”
Violet? Was that her name? “There’s a wedding photographer to do that.” He gestured to where the man
stood. “I didn’t bring a camera.”
“They might want us to be in the photo with them. We should smile. Look happy.”
“Sure.”
She shot him a narrow look; clearly she hadn’t missed his sarcasm. Not Violet, but it had been
something equally old-fashioned. Edith? No, that wasn’t right, either.
He was saved from the need to reply by Michael and Suzy’s emergence from the church, their faces
alight with what even he could recognize was joy. Envy speared him. Then he suppressed it. He was
done with love and romance…from now on his relationships would be based purely on sex. No emotion.
No tenderness.
That way there would be no betrayal.
The bridal couple paused under the arched church door beneath a flurry of pink-and-white rose petals,
and the photographer leapt into action.
The damn woman had been right.
Unbidden, his eyes landed on her. She was smiling, and Connor had to admit it transformed her face. At
least she wasn’t gloating. His gaze lingered on her curved lips and he couldn’t help noticing that her
mouth was very pretty when it wasn’t screwed up in disapproval.
“Connor, Victoria, over here!” called Suzy.
Victoria. Of course! “We’re being summoned.” He placed a hand under her elbow. Her skin was silky
beneath his fingertips. Out of nowhere a totally unexpected surge of lust hit him. Perhaps the wedding
reception wouldn’t be such an ordeal after all…
Suzy was beckoning impatiently. “Come on, we need a photo with the two of you.”
“I told you so,” muttered Victoria.
Connor shot her a look of dislike. Okay, so he’d been wrong on two counts. Firstly, the reception was
going to be every bit as bad as he’d imagined and, secondly, she had been gloating. She’d simply
concealed it under that sweetly deceptive smile.
All desire waned. It didn’t need Michael’s grin—nor the pointed look to Connor’s hand where it rested—
for his hand to drop away from her arm.
The further he stayed away from Queen we-are-not-amused Victoria, the better.
On entering the ballroom, Connor discovered—much to his horror—that rather than the two of them
flanking the bridal pair, he and Victoria had been seated beside each other.
“Give the two of you a chance to talk, seeing that all my attention will be on my bride,” Michael
murmured sotto voce, holding a chair out for Suzy, who glanced up and gave Connor a little wave, her
eyes glittering with mischief.
Irritation swarmed through Connor and he glared at the smug groom.
Connor survived the first round of speeches by ignoring Victoria completely, although if he’d been
honest he’d have had to admit that the subtly seductive scent she wore didn’t make that easy. By the
time he had to propose a toast to the bride and groom he’d downed three gla
sses of too-sweet wedding
wine. When the first notes of the wedding waltz struck up he looked vainly around for a waiter to order a
double whiskey.
“Come on,” an unwelcome voice beside him prompted. “We should join them.”
“I’m not dancing,” he said flatly, settling for another glass of sweet champagne with a grimace.
Her gaze landed on the glass and her straight eyebrows drew together in a frown. “Surely you’re not
going to use Suzy and Michael’s wedding as an excuse to get drunk?”
Deliberately provocative, he raised the tulip-glass in a mocking toast. “I’m celebrating the love that you
believe in.”
“Don’t be so flippant.” Her disapproval deepened. “This is the happiest day of Suzy and Michael’s life
and you’re going to ruin it for them if you carry on. And all because you’re too busy feeling sorry for
yourself.”
Connor blinked in disbelief. “What did you say?” He couldn’t have heard right. Everyone had been
pussyfooting around the subject of Dana and Paul’s affair. Surely she wouldn’t dare…
Their eyes locked. Hers were more green than brown, flashing little flecks of gold. It wasn’t pity he read
there but disdain.
He’d heard perfectly. And grew convinced this woman would dare anything.
Anger knotted in his chest.
“Snap out of it. Think of someone except yourself for a change. It’s only a couple more hours.” Her gaze
dropped to the glass in front of him. “And I suggest you slow down on the alcohol.”
“I don’t know who you think you are—” he lowered his voice to a lethal rasp “—but you are way out of
line.”
“I’m Victoria.” A grim smile accompanied the words. “In case you’ve forgotten, I’m the bride’s best
friend—” she emphasized best “—but I don’t understand how Michael can call you a friend at all. I
certainly haven’t seen you do anything to deserve it.”
Her words stung. He was on his feet before he could think. “I don’t have to listen to this!”
Startled dismay flitted across her face. She cast a quick glance to where the bride was nestled in the
groom’s arms. Michael chose that moment to glance at them over the top of Suzy’s curls. Victoria