by Carole Mortimer - Bachelor Cousins 03 - To Marry McAllister
‘Invariably,’ Chloe confirmed unconcernedly. ‘Don’t worry, Brice.’ She reached over and squeezed his arm reassuringly. ‘I have it on good authority that Sabina is definitely here.’
No doubt with the ever-watchful Clive in attendance! Well, that was just too bad—because he intended seeing Sabina this evening, no matter who might try to stop him.
‘I don’t—’ He broke off as the lights began to dim, the loud music that seemed to accompany all these functions suddenly blasting out over the speakers. ‘And about time, too!’ he muttered irritably, settling himself more comfortably in his seat as he prepared to see Sabina for the first time in three weeks.
During the next hour model after model came strutting down the catwalk, all of them dramatically beautiful in the designer clothing—and none of them was Sabina!
‘She is here, Brice,’ Chloe assured him again as she sensed his tension rising by the minute.
He scowled darkly. ‘Then where the he—’ He broke off, half a dozen spotlights suddenly focused on the centre of the stage, the music stopping briefly as the finale of the first half of this fashion show began.
Sabina…!
Beautiful, mysterious, alluring Sabina. She looked exquisite in the sparkling dress of midnight blue, the material shimmering suggestively about the perfect curves of her body as she seemed to glide down the centre catwalk, blonde hair arranged in a fantastic space-age style, the dramatic eye make-up she wore making her eyes appear the same midnight-blue as the glittering dress she wore. She looked to neither left nor right as she came to a halt at the end of the catwalk, but her smile seemed to glow almost as much as that sensually entrancing gown.
Brice was too stunned by her appearance to join in the enthusiastic applause of the rest of the audience. Sabina had never looked so beautiful to him.
Or so aloof and unattainable!
This was her world, he realised numbly, the world where she was Queen. And he, he suddenly realised, he was chasing that elusive ‘end of the rainbow’…
He was paralysed by the realisation, didn’t even register the fact that Sabina, after smiling and waving to the enthusiastic audience, had now left the catwalk, the main lights coming back on for the brief interval.
‘Do you want to go behind the scenes now?’ Chloe asked gently, seeming aware that Brice was totally transfixed.
Even if she had no idea of the reason for it…
‘Brice…?’ Chloe prompted again after a few seconds when she had received no response.
He pulled himself together with effort, shaking his head self-derisively. ‘I’m just fooling myself, aren’t I?’ he muttered disgustedly. ‘This is where Sabina belongs.’ Here, and, as Brice was only too painfully aware, in Richard Latham’s home.
‘I’m not sure I agree with you there.’ Chloe shook her head as they joined the other people going outside to stretch their legs before the resumption of the show. ‘Most of the models I know, when they aren’t actually working, lead a very lonely life. The majority, having reached the fame and fortune they thought they wanted, would give anything for the normality of genuine love and marriage in their lives,’ she added softly.
‘Sabina already has that,’ Brice returned harshly, feeling slightly claustrophobic amongst this glittering, noisy crowd.
Chloe looked thoughtful. ‘Do you really think so?’ she mused frowningly. ‘I’ve always thought of David’s Uncle Richard as rather a cold man.’
Bruce shrugged. ‘He’s Sabina’s choice, not mine,’ he rasped.
But even if it meant meeting the other man again—something he had no wish to do!—he knew that for Joan’s sake Sabina had to be at the dinner party next week.
He had briefly, while dazzled by Sabina’s beauty and success, lost sight of the compelling reason for his being here tonight. Oh, he wanted to see her for himself, but he had told himself the driving force behind his appearance here this evening was to ascertain a promise from Sabina that she would be supportive of her mother next week.
He had told himself that…
But one look at Sabina and he had known he was only fooling himself; if anything, the love he had realised he felt towards her three weeks ago had intensified. To the point where he wasn’t sure he could see her without telling her how he felt!
‘Maybe it would be better if I just left now,’ he acknowledged heavily.
‘I don’t think—’ Chloe broke off what she had been about to say as they were joined by a third person. ‘Hello, Annie,’ she greeted the young girl warmly. ‘It’s going well, isn’t it?’
‘You should see the chaos out the back,’ the young girl said with feeling before turning to Brice, giving him a cheeky grin. ‘Would you be Mr McAllister?’
‘I would,’ he confirmed warily, completely baffled by the fact that this girl Annie was looking for him. For one thing, she was dressed casually in jeans and a tee shirt, which meant she certainly wasn’t part of this glittering, well-dressed crowd. Also, she had mentioned ‘out the back’.
‘Then this is for you.” Annie thrust an envelope into his hand. ‘Back to the chaos!’ She grimaced before hurrying off, pushing her way unconcernedly through the crowd.
Brice looked down dazedly at the envelope he now held. What on earth—?
‘Aren’t you going to open it?’ Chloe prompted curiously after several minutes of Brice just staring at the envelope. ‘Annie is one of the dressers from backstage,’ she added helpfully.
Brice had already guessed that much. And as he only knew one person backstage, this letter had to have come from Sabina. So much for his thinking she had been completely unaware of her audience earlier. That was professionalism for you; Sabina, although giving no outward sign of it, had obviously been aware enough to see him sitting out there with Chloe!
But why would Sabina be writing to him? To warn him, having seen him and guessed his intention, not to embarrass himself by trying to see her later this evening when the show was over? Or was it something else? He was almost afraid of the answer to that!
‘Just open it and see what she has to say,’ Chloe encouraged impatiently as he still hesitated.
Brice gave her a mocking glance. ‘Aren’t you assuming rather a lot?’ he drawled.
‘I doubt it,’ his cousin-in-law told him dismissively. ‘Look, I’ll be back in a few minutes. I’m going to the ladies’ room for the dozenth time this evening.’ She grimaced, the discomforts of early pregnancy already having made themselves felt. ‘It will also give you a chance to read your letter in peace,’ she urged, squeezing his arm encouragingly before hurrying off.
If Chloe weren’t already married to, and deeply in love with, his own cousin, Brice knew he could have fallen in love with her himself at that moment just for her thoughtfulness alone. If, that was, he didn’t already love Sabina so deeply!
‘If you need to talk to me just show this letter to one of the security men at the end of the show’, Sabina’s letter read.
Brice turned the single sheet of paper over just to check there was nothing else written there. There wasn’t.
Very helpful! If he needed to talk to her—not that she wanted to talk to him.
Whatever that might mean!
Sabina wasn’t sure, looking at the uncompromising expression on Brice’s face as he stood in front of the closed door of her tiny changing-room, that this had been a good idea. In fact, the ache in her chest, just at the sight of him, told her that it wasn’t.
But she had been completely thrown earlier this evening when she’d seen Brice in the audience seated next to the designer, and his cousin-by-marriage, Chloe Fox—had been sure that he couldn’t possibly be here to see the show. Which had to mean he was here to see her. At least, she had thought he was. As she looked at the harshness of his expression now, she wasn’t so sure…!
Not that any of that uncertainty showed in her expression as she sat down and turned back to the mirror to start removing the heavy make-up she had needed for the show, looking at
his reflection enquiringly. ‘What did you think of this evening?’
He grimaced, making no move to come further into the room. ‘I have little experience of these things, but it looked okay to me.’ He shrugged dismissively.
She couldn’t help but smile at the predictability of his reply. ‘How have you been, Brice?’ she prompted lightly, dressed in her own clothes now, casual fitted denims and a bright red tee shirt, her hair loosely curling down the length of her spine.
‘How have I—?’ He broke off abruptly, taking a deep, controlling breath. ‘I’m sure you didn’t invite me back here to indulge in pleasantries,’ he rasped.
Sabina calmly continued the ritual of removing her make-up, hoping that Brice wouldn’t see the tell-tale shake of her hand just the sight of him produced. ‘And I’m equally sure you didn’t come here this evening to watch a fashion show,’ she returned as scathingly.
‘Oh? Then why am I here?’ he returned unhelpfully.
Sabina shrugged. ‘At a guess, I would say you wanted to see me to make certain that I will be at your grandfather’s dinner party next weekend,’ she drawled knowingly.
‘And will you?’ he challenged.
She swallowed down her disappointment as she realised she had been right about Brice’s reason for being here this evening. Part of her had hoped—
She should have known better. It had all been a game to Brice, the kisses, the flirtation. A dangerous game admittedly, but a game, nonetheless.
Her eyes flashed angrily as she looked at his reflection in the mirror. ‘I’m not sure I particularly like the fact that you believe I could ever hurt my mother by not being there,’ she bit out tautly.
He raised dark brows. ‘Does that mean you are going?’
She glared at him in the mirror. ‘Not that it’s any of your business—but, yes, I will be there,’ she told him dismissively. ‘Was that all?’ she challenged, more angry than she cared to admit at his lack of faith in her.
More disappointed than she cared to admit that this was his only reason for wanting to see her.
But what had she expected? That Brice would have missed her as much as she had him the last three weeks? That he had also hungered just for the sight and sound of her? As she had hungered for him…
‘No, it is not all!’ Brice rasped from behind her.
Very close behind her, she acknowledged a little shakily, Brice having moved swiftly across the room, now standing so close Sabina could feel the heat emanating from his body.
He looked about them impatiently, the room in complete chaos from her hurried changes in the second half of the fashion show. ‘Have you finished here now?’ he asked. ‘Or are you going on to the inevitable party that always seems to follow one of these things?’ he added scornfully.
‘Parties that I, invariably, choose not to attend,’ she reminded dryly.
He nodded abruptly. ‘Where’s the attentive Clive this evening?’ he rasped.
Truthfully, she had no idea. But she wasn’t about to tell Brice that… ‘Night off,’ she dismissed lightly.
‘Latham?’ he rasped harshly.
‘Still in Australia.’ As far as she knew.
He gave a mocking inclination of his head. ‘In that case, shall we go and have coffee together somewhere?’ he suggested huskily.
She looked at him with narrowed eyes. ‘What about Chloe?’
Brice shrugged. ‘She already left.’
Should she have coffee with him? Her life had changed dramatically during the last three weeks, although Brice could know nothing of that. No one knew. Not even her mother. And, for the moment, Sabina wanted it to remain that way.
But there was no reason, just because she and Brice had coffee together, that he should guess just how different her life was from the last time she had seen him. No reason whatsoever.
‘I know what happened to you last November, Sabina.’
The words, for all that they were softly spoken, sliced through the atmosphere like a knife, Sabina turning sharply to look up at Brice. Yes, she could see by the compassion in that emerald-green gaze that he did know.
The last thing she wanted from Brice was his pity—now, or ever!
‘So what?’ She shrugged dismissively. ‘My mother told you, I suppose?’ she added disgustedly.
‘Only because I asked her,’ Brice defended.
‘And that makes it okay, does it?’ Sabina stood up abruptly, moving sharply away from him, shaking her head disgustedly as she did so.
He shrugged. ‘Your mother is a very honest and straightforward woman.’
‘And I’m not?’ She raised challenging brows.
‘I didn’t say that—’
‘What happened isn’t something I ever wanted to become public knowledge,’ she snapped impatiently. In fact she had gone to great pains to ensure that it didn’t.
‘And I’m not the public!’ Brice came back harshly. ‘In a few weeks’ time we’ll all be part of the same family!’
Sabina faced him tensely. ‘My mother marrying your grandfather does not make us “family”,’ she scorned dismissively.
His mouth tightened ominously. ‘It does in my book.’
‘That’s your prerogative,’ she returned heatedly.
She didn’t want to be related to this man. She loved him, ached to be with him all the time. The thought of them occasionally meeting at ‘family’ get-togethers sounded painful in the extreme. Especially as one day Brice was sure to arrive at one of those get-togethers with the woman he intended marrying!
‘Damn it, Sabina, I didn’t come here this evening to get into an argument with you in this hell-hole!’ Brice rasped, obviously at the end of his own patience too.
This ‘hell-hole’ was pure luxury compared to some of the conditions the other models had worked in this evening. Although she knew what Brice meant; it was an airless, windowless room, of very small proportions.
She gave the ghost of a smile. ‘Where did you intend getting into an argument with me, then?’ she returned mockingly. It was what they inevitably seemed to do whenever they met!
Brice didn’t return her smile, a nerve pulsing in the rigid line of his jaw. ‘Are you going to have coffee with me or not?’ he pushed forcefully.
‘I—’ She broke off her angry refusal. If she said no, the next time she saw Brice would be at the first of those family get-togethers next weekend. ‘I am,’ she stated firmly instead, having applied a lip gloss as her only make-up now, picking up her jacket in preparation for leaving.
Brice gave an impatient sigh. ‘Why couldn’t you have just said that in the first place?’ He reached out to take a light hold of her arm, as if he expected her to take flight in the other direction as soon as they were out of the room.
Sabina gave him a mocking smile. ‘I couldn’t make it that easy for you, Brice,’ she taunted.
He gave a disgusted shake of his head. ‘Believe me, I’ve never found anything about being around you easy, Sabina,’ he bit out grimly.
She gave him a searching look, wondering exactly what he meant by that remark. Or maybe she was just looking for something that wasn’t there. Wishful thinking.
‘Come on, then, Brice.’ She walked out into the hallway as he held the door open for her. ‘I have my car outside.’
He raised dark brows as they strolled towards the exit. ‘That’s new, isn’t it?’
‘Not at all, I’ve been driving for years,’ she told him off-handedly.
‘That isn’t exactly what I mean,’ Brice rasped impatiently.
Sabina had known exactly what he’d meant, knew he was referring to the fact that she was now driving herself again rather than being driven around by other people.
It was the least of the changes that had taken place in her life in the last three weeks…
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
‘THERE’S something different about you tonight,’ Brice murmured slowly as the two of them sat in the lounge of a leading London hotel, the tray of coffee they
had ordered having already been placed on the table in front of Sabina.
Was that a wariness in her gaze as she looked up at him? Or was he imagining it? The look was so fleeting, before it was masked by a polite smile, that he really couldn’t be sure…
‘Is there?’ Sabina dismissed lightly, handing him the cup of black coffee he had asked for before sitting back in her chair to sip her own coffee. ‘I’m always a little hyper after a show, so perhaps that’s it?’ She shrugged.
‘Nice car,’ he commented lightly on the sporty powder-blue Mercedes she had driven here.
‘Thanks,’ she dismissed. ‘I’m actually enjoying driving in London again,’ she added happily.
She had changed, Brice mused frowningly as he registered that smile. That fear he had sensed in her from the first time he had seen her no longer seemed to be there. Although, of course, he now knew the reason it had been there in the first place…
‘Your mother really wasn’t breaking a confidence by talking to me, you know, Sabina,’ he sat forward to tell her huskily. ‘She believed—perhaps erroneously—that the two of us are friends,’ he added with a self-derisive grimace.
A shutter came down over the previous candidness of Sabina’s gaze. ‘I’m not the first public figure—and I’m sure I won’t be the last, either!—to receive threatening letters and phone calls from someone who doesn’t like what I do.’ She shrugged dismissively.
Bruce wasn’t so easily put off, knew from Joan that there had been more to it than that. ‘The man actually broke into your dressing-room at a show one evening and attacked you,’ he said huskily, feeling murderous himself at the thought of anyone trying to harm Sabina.
As he had when Joan had first told him what had happened to Sabina to put that fear into her eyes, to turn her into someone almost afraid of her own shadow, into someone that Joan barely recognised any more.
Brice had burned with anger after talking to Joan, had wanted to get hold of the man who had attacked her and— Most of all he had wanted to pick Sabina up, wrap her in the cloak of his protection, and make sure that nothing like that ever happened to her again.