‘What are you grinning at?’
‘I was just thinking what a good time I’m having.’
‘Of course you are. This is what turns you on, isn’t it?’
She dropped his hand and stopped walking then. At first he didn’t appear to notice, but after a couple of steps turned back.
‘What now?’ he asked irritably. ‘Has a Tiffany ring just caught your eye?’
‘I was actually thinking how much better it was when you were being nice to me.’
‘Oh.’ Zavier managed to look uncomfortable, which gave Tabitha the confidence to continue.
‘And if this is going to work, Zavier, surely we should at least try being nice to each other—and not just in other people’s company. It’s going to be a long six months if we’re constantly sniping at each other.’
‘Okay,’ he mumbled, but Tabitha was on a roll.
‘We’ve already established that where sarcastic one-liners are concerned you’re a master, but I for one don’t need my faults and shortcomings being constantly rammed down my throat. Yes, this is a business deal, and, yes, if I do accept then I’ll come out of this with a huge financial advantage. But you were the one who approached me, not the other way around.’
‘Okay, okay,’ he snapped.
‘That’s not being nice,’ she retorted.
The champagne had worked its way down to her toenails now, and combined with the undeniable euphoria of finally having an answer to her grandmother’s problem it was proving an intoxicating combination. A smart reply, easily as witty as one of Zavier’s, was forming, but just as it reached the tip of her tongue a wedge of flesh pushed her against a boutique and he kissed her far too thoroughly, his cool tongue parting her lips like a hot knife through butter.
‘Is that nice enough for you?’ he growled as she licked her stinging lips, and without waiting for her response he dragged her back into the sea of people.
Tabitha could see how her grandmother’s problem had started. The lights, the noise, the hum of the place—the whole extravagant package, actually—gave her a thrill of excitement in the pit of her stomach. Of course the fact she was also on the arm of one of Australia’s most eligible bachelors amplified the effect, but Tabitha could certainly see the attraction it must hold for a lonely old woman whose days and nights stretched on endlessly.
Zavier had disappeared to a bar and, after feeding her last note into a change machine, Tabitha took her bucket of dollar coins and settled at a poker machine, trying to assume an air of knowledge as she attempted to locate where to put her money.
Love hearts whizzed around before her eyes, cupid’s darts took aim as the machine started singing, arrows flew as dollar signs appeared, and an earsplitting electrical fanfare belted out of the machine.
‘Aren’t you going to take your free spin?’
He was back, and Tabitha instantly stiffened on her stool, sorely tempted to put her arm up and shield the machine from his sight. But she knew that wouldn’t stop Zavier. She could imagine him as a sulky schoolboy, finishing his spelling test first and then peering over with mocking scorn at her futile attempts. And she was positive he was laughing at her—positive at that moment he knew the fraud that she was. Taking her drink, Tabitha pretended to concentrate, pushing the flashing button before her. She could feel the boredom emanating from him and fiddled with the buttons a few more times, watching her credit limit dissolve to zero in two minutes flat.
‘So what now?’ Turning, she gave him a smile.
‘You mean you’re already finished?’ His eyebrows shot up in surprise. ‘I thought we’d be stuck here for hours.’ Picking up her bag, he handed it to her. ‘Is this your attempt to show me how controlled you can be?’
Tabitha shrugged. ‘Something like that,’ she muttered, while privately wondering how people could sit for hours staring at the blessed things. Mind you, not everyone had a diversion quite as delicious as Zavier to lure them away. ‘Are we going home now?’
He stared at her for a moment, watching as her colour deepened under his scrutiny. ‘I thought I’d have to drag you out of here kicking and screaming.’
Mentally chastising herself, Tabitha realised she wasn’t exactly behaving like a woman with a gambling problem. ‘Sorry to disappoint you,’ she said lightly, jumping down from her stool and making to go. But Zavier didn’t move. He just carried on staring, his eyes narrowing as he looked at her thoughtfully.
‘Come on.’ Taking her hand, he led her easily through the crowd and without a further word led her up mazes of escalators until the thronging masses eased off. Suddenly the fairground-like, carnival mood of the casino had evaporated; suddenly they were back in Zavier’s world. The world of the well dressed, with dimmed lights and discreet music, a world where doormen greeted you by name and never asked for ID, where even the bar staff never thought to charge.
A world away from Tabitha’s.
A vast wooden door was opened as if by magic, and Tabitha blinked a couple of times as the heavy cigar smoke that filled the air reached her eyes.
‘Why have you bought me here?’ she asked slowly, terrified he might ask her to play one of the tables.
‘To teach you a lesson.’ His hand was still wrapped around hers, and he pulled her nearer but didn’t bother to drop his voice. ‘The minimum bet here’s a thousand dollars. I’m going to show you just how easy it is to lose money.’
‘Oh, come on, Zavier.’ She turned to go but his hand gripped hers ever tighter. ‘There’s no need for this.’ She let out a nervous giggle. ‘I gamble away the odd twenty dollars or so; this is the big league.’
‘It’s all relative.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘Anyway, I’m not the one in debt here.’
‘Well, you might be soon.’ Tabitha gestured to the tables. ‘Look, Zavier, this has gone too far…’ She had to tell him, had to stop him—everything was getting way out of hand. ‘I don’t have a problem with gambling. I don’t know how you got the idea—’
‘So you’re suddenly cured?’
‘I never had a problem in the first place—’
‘Save it,’ he snapped.
‘But I don’t—’
‘You see that guy over there?’ This time his voice did drop. ‘Hands clenched, sweating buckets?’
Tabitha followed his gaze, nodding as she saw the unfortunate gentleman who was now fishing a large silk handkerchief out of his undoubtedly expensive suit. ‘I bet if you asked he’d tell you that he hasn’t got a problem either. Yet he probably just lost his house, or his car, maybe his business, and no doubt he lost his wife a while back. And see that woman there? The one in the green dress?’ He didn’t wait for her response. ‘See how she’s chewing on her lip, taking a drink every few seconds? Well, if she had any sense then she’d get the hell out. Like I said, it’s all relative, whether it’s twenty dollars or twenty thousand. If you can’t afford it you shouldn’t be here.’
Despite her awkwardness Tabitha listened, enthralled, his insight was amazing, his descriptions spot-on. ‘And I suppose you’ll just stand there calmly?’
‘That’s right.’ He led her over to a soft low sofa and they sat down, drinks seemingly miraculously appearing before them before the waiters discreetly melted away. ‘I’ll set my budget and stick to it.’
‘Oh, very controlled,’ Tabitha said sarcastically. ‘It must be hard, being so perfect all of the time.’
‘Hey, I thought we were being nice to each other.’
‘We are,’ Tabitha grumbled. ‘Except when you start lecturing me.’
‘I’m not lecturing you. Well, maybe a bit,’ he admitted. ‘But it’s for your own good. The difference between us, Tabitha, is I know when to stop.’
‘Fine,’ she snapped, nervous at the thought of him gambling money to prove an extremely unnecessary point. ‘You do what you want. Just don’t expect me to join you.’
‘So the poker machines are more your thing, then?’ His upper-class accent was mocking now. ‘You don’t fool
me, Tabitha. The only reason you don’t want to join in is because you don’t know how to play the tables.’
‘Look,’ Tabitha said very definitely, her hand pulling at his suit sleeve as he turned to go, ‘I don’t have a gambling problem.’ She allowed him one long bored sigh before tentatively continuing. ‘I really don’t. The debt you heard Aiden and I discussing is my grandmother’s… I hardly ever come here!’
He didn’t look at her. Pointedly removing his sleeve from her grip, he took a long sip of his drink before finally turning to face her. ‘Then why the sudden euphoria, Tabitha? Why the flushed face and the sparkle in your eyes? The second we walked in here I could feel your excitement—feel it,’ he reiterated. ‘So if it isn’t the casino that’s doing it for you, why the sudden change?’
‘Zavier!’ She almost shouted his name, but he didn’t even blink. ‘Why do you think I’m so excited? It’s not every day a girl gets a marriage proposal. It’s not every day…’ Her voice trailed off, and from the shuttered look in his eyes she knew she was wasting her time; a word like love simply didn’t factor in here.
‘You’ve got a problem,’ he snapped. ‘You can deny it all you like, but the only person you’re fooling is yourself, Tabitha.’
Sinking back into the sofa, Tabitha nursed her drink. ‘Oh, I’ve got a problem all right,’ Tabitha muttered as he stalked off towards the table. ‘Six foot four’s worth.’
She didn’t have to worry about her cover being blown. She could take a full-page ad out in the papers telling him about her grandmother and he’d still just put it down to denial. But why had she let him think she had a problem in the first place? Surely a gambling addict was hardly a flattering light to put oneself under? Looking over, she watched him. Not a muscle flickered in his face, not a single bead of sweat marred his brow. His brief nod at the croupier was friendly and relaxed. Turning momentarily, he caught her eye.
‘All right?’ he mouthed, and Tabitha nodded, a strange feeling suddenly welling in her. Despite his protests, despite his attempts to prove otherwise, Zavier Chambers was a nice man.
His back was to her now, but she could just make out his strong steady hands moving a pile of chips across the table. The woman in green was taking another nervous sip of her drink as Zavier stood unmoved next to her. She watched the woman walking away, tears in her eyes, shaking her head in disbelief at her loss. Perhaps the magnitude of what she had gambled was only now starting to dawn.
She could end it all here—walk away now and have lost nothing. It was Tabitha taking a nervous sip of her drink now, her hand tightening around the glass as she mentally rolled the dice.
Standing, she made her way over, one hand gently touching Zavier’s shoulder as she quietly observed the game in progress.
‘I thought this wasn’t your scene?’ Zavier turned briefly as an inordinately large pile of chips was pushed towards him.
‘It seems you were right after all,’ Tabitha murmured, breathing in the heady scent of him as she edged just a fraction closer, feeling the solid warmth of his legs against her barely clad thighs. ‘Maybe I don’t know when to stop.’
CHAPTER SIX
‘THANKS for the lesson, by the way.’ Tabitha let out a gurgle of laughter as his car pulled up outside her house. ‘You’ve definitely cured me.’
‘I’m never going to live this down, am I?’ Even Zavier was laughing as he pulled on the handbrake. ‘I couldn’t have lost my car keys tonight if I’d tried; I made a bloody fortune. So much for trying to show you the error of your ways.’
‘Lesson well and truly learnt,’ Tabitha answered in a solemn voice, then broke into hysterics again.
‘You’re a bad girl,’ Zavier said gruffly, and something in his voice stopped her laughter. Something in the way he turned his head, his dark eyes glittering in the moonlight, made Tabitha’s heart-rate accelerate alarmingly.
‘Maybe I am, but I make great coffee.’ Running her tongue nervously over her bottom lip, she watched his hands tighten on the steering wheel. ‘Do you want to come in?’
‘Better not.’ His words were clipped, and Tabitha felt the good mood of earlier evaporate, steaming up the car window as she sat there suddenly void of anything to say. The tension in the air was palpable. ‘It’s been a good night, though.’ His voice was strained, forced. ‘I really enjoyed myself.’
‘Don’t.’ The single word was out before she could stop it, and it hung in the air as she forced herself to continue. ‘I mean, you don’t have to pretend now; I know you’re just being nice.’
For an age he stared at her. ‘I thought nice was what you wanted, Tabitha.’
‘It is….’
‘Well, then, don’t complain.’ He nodded to the house. ‘You’d better get inside. The neighbours’ curtains are starting to twitch.’
‘How did you know where I lived?’ It suddenly dawned on Tabitha that he had taken her home without direction, and her mind reeled from impossible scenario to scenario. ‘Did you have me followed? Have you been watching me?’
‘Nothing so exciting, I’m afraid. I looked you up in the phone book.’
‘Oh!’ She let out a nervous giggle and Zavier smiled, but the drumming of his fingers on the steering wheel indicated her allocated time slot was over.
‘When will I see you again?’ It came out wrong, needy and unsure, and his idle drumming on the steering wheel stopped momentarily. ‘I mean, what do we do now?’
‘That’s up to you.’
‘So I passed the test back at the casino?’
A smile skated on the edge of his lips and Tabitha ached, ached to put up her fingers, to catch the glimmer of light in his tired, jaded face.
‘You passed,’ he said simply. Leaning over to the passenger side, he pulled the contracts from his briefcase, then flicked on the car light. She watched, her breath hot in her lungs, as he scrawled an extravagant signature on each of the documents before handing them to her. ‘Drop them off at my solicitor’s if you decide to go through with it.’
‘That’s it? That’s all I have to do?’ The simplicity of the action truly terrified her.
‘That’s it.’ Zavier shrugged. ‘Look, I really am going to the States tomorrow, to close off some deals. Anyway, it will be easier that way—playing the part of the devoted fiancé for the next month or so might prove a bit too hard. I’ll ring you with all the details once I’ve worked things out, and my driver will pick you up, take you shopping for the wedding and take you to Lorne. In the meantime keep your nose clean. I’ll be in touch.’
‘But surely I have to do something. What about invitations, my wedding dress…?’
‘It will all be taken care of.’
And with that she had to make do. Stepping out of the car, she half expected him to call her back, to pull her into his arms, to end the perfect evening in the perfect way. But he didn’t—just sat there watching as she let herself in.
She watched from the darkened lounge window as his car slid off into the darkness, the ring on her finger heavy and unfamiliar.
Unable to fathom what had just happened, the enormity of Zavier’s proposal only now truly registering, she expected to be awake for hours, to lie in the darkness staring at the ceiling, wrestling with her conscience. But for the first time since the wedding Tabitha fell into a deep and dreamless sleep, as if seeing him had somehow stilled the restlessness in her soul.
Only when the sun arose, when the trucks in the distance shifted their gears noisily and schoolchildren chattered excitedly outside her bedroom window as they passed by on the way to school, did her sleepy eyes open as the door below was pounded.
Her mind was whirring, the ring still heavy on her finger, her mouth dry from the champagne, her heart hammering as the previous night’s events repeated themselves.
Surely it was a dream—a strange, vivid dream? Surely it could never have happened?
Wrapping a robe around her, she pulled the bolt on the door, half expecting to see Zavier telling her it was
a joke—a mistake, perhaps.
‘Delivery for Miss T. Reece.’ A huge white box was thrust into her arms, and as she wrestled to hold it and somehow sign the delivery note her heart-rate quickened as Aiden made his way purposefully up the garden path, his grim face a million miles from the gentle man she loved and knew.
‘What the hell have you done?’ Ignoring the delivery boy he burst past, slamming the door as she stood there in the hallway. ‘Page four,’ Aiden practically spat, flinging the morning paper at her. ‘The headline reads “Marriage made in Financial Heaven”.’
Shaking, she put down the box and struggled with the newspaper, a small gasp escaping her lips as she turned the pages. There she was—at least, there her hands were—lost in Zavier’s hair, the glint of the ruby on her finger, the searing memory of his kiss immortalised in a photo now.
Aiden grabbed back the paper, reading it aloud in a taunting voice. “‘Met at a wedding! Swept off his feet! A whirlwind romance!” My God, Tabitha, what have you agreed to?’
Pierre must have rung the press the second the first champagne cork had popped. So that was what Zavier had meant when he’d said it had all been taken care of.
‘I haven’t agreed to anything,’ Tabitha answered quickly, playing for time.
‘That’s not what it says here,’ Aiden snarled. ‘Do you want me to carry on reading?’
‘I was going to tell you,’ she begged. ‘I was going to ring you this morning.’
‘To tell me what, exactly? You mean this is all true? You really are marrying him?’
‘I don’t know…’
‘It was Zavier you were with the night of the wedding?’
‘How did you know I was with anyone?’ She was stalling, dreading the questions her answers would lead to.
‘I got up to get a glass of water—you know, mouth like a carpet and all that. I never said anything at the time because I figured it was none of my business. But if it was Zavier you were with then I’m damn well making it my business.’ He was struggling for control now, and Tabitha stood speechless as he hurled the newspaper at the wall. ‘It was him you were with, wasn’t it?’
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