Sister Of The Bride

Home > Other > Sister Of The Bride > Page 6
Sister Of The Bride Page 6

by Valerie Parv


  It had been surprise, nothing more, she told herself. It wasn’t as if she wanted him to look at her so... so possessively. Not until she knew for sure what manner of man she was dealing with.

  Her obvious confusion seemed to amuse him, and a mocking smile played around the corners of his mouth as she escaped with the clothes. He probably thought he had her measure already, she thought furiously. He had yet to find out what manner of woman he was dealing with.

  When he left his apologies that he wouldn’t join her for dinner, she told herself that she didn’t care—and part of her accepted it as true. The part that didn’t troubled her all through the evening, although she tried to be cheerful for the children’s sake—joining them for dinner and games before bedtime, which had become their routine.

  Maggie was friendly but distant—probably still upset over Ryan’s censure earlier in the day—and Terise felt very much alone by the time she retired to her own bed.

  What was she going to do? The housekeeper hadn’t told her anything she could use against Ryan. In fact, she had made it look as if Clair had been at fault. Terise might have known Ryan’s staff would be on his side.

  Her own observations of him were equally unhelpful. The newspapers could hardly make much scandal out of a hard-working family man. Her mouth twisted ruefully. Was she going to have to plant a tape recorder in his study to gather evidence against him?

  She hadn’t expected it to be this hard. Didn’t every corporate giant have skeletons somewhere in his closet? Unless... She pushed away the thought that there might be nothing to find. Clair’s experience hadn’t been nothing. Terise would just have to keep her eyes and ears open until she found something—anything—she could use to tarnish that perfect public image of his.

  Next day was Saturday, and Terise had planned to take the children on a picnic, leaving the way clear for Maggie to prepare for the dinner party that evening.

  The car was waiting for them when they reached the underground car park. Terise was laden with the children’s things, and a picnic basket prepared by Maggie. By the time she had stowed everything into the car the twins were fastening their seat belts and jiggling up and down with impatience to be off.

  But there was a surprise in store when the driver’s door opened, and instead of Ryan’s chauffeur his place was taken by Ryan himself.

  The girls squealed with delight, but Terise felt a chill trickle down her spine. Perhaps he was only seeing them off. Surely he didn’t intend to spend the day with them?

  ‘You recommended I spend more time with the children,’ he reminded her when she voiced the question a little shakily.

  Of all times, why had he picked now to listen to her? ‘I thought you disapproved of me interfering.’

  He gunned the powerful motor. ‘I still do, but sometimes even unpalatable opinions contain a grain of wisdom. Are you telling me now that it isn’t a good idea?’

  It wasn’t, but for other reasons. After yesterday, when she had reacted to him so unexpectedly, the last thing she needed was a whole day in his company. But there was nothing she could do about it. ‘Of course you should spend time with your children,’ she said, her voice barely above a whisper. She reached for the door handle. ‘I assume you’d rather have them to yourself.’

  His hand closed over hers, steel against satin. ‘You assume wrong. As your boss, I’m ordering you to accompany us and—enjoy yourself.’

  He could order the one but not the other, she thought mutinously, but settled back in the padded leather seat.

  He drove well, she noticed unwillingly as they joined the flow of traffic over the Harbour Bridge and through the busy northern suburbs which led to Ashton Park—a lovely wild reserve on the harbour foreshores below Taronga Zoo. Terise had discovered it soon after arriving in Sydney, and had thought it must look the way all Sydney must have looked when the area had first been settled in 1788. It was an ideal spot for a family picnic.

  Except that they weren’t a family, she reminded herself. On such a glorious day, in such scenic surroundings, she could easily have forgotten this vital fact.

  Ryan acted more like a solicitous husband-making sure the bushwalk they tackled after leaving the car wasn’t too much for her, and taking her elbow to help her clamber over rocks around the foreshores.

  The children raced ahead, swarming over the rocks and stopping to examine the tiny creatures they spotted in pools left by the receding tide. Ryan cautioned them against venturing too far ahead, but Terise still spent far more time alone with him than she would have preferred. She tried to tell herself that the prickles of excitement gripping her were caused by the simple pleasures of the outing.

  She had almost made herself believe it by the time Ryan rounded up the girls, announcing that it was time to head back to the car for lunch.

  ‘It seems Maggie has excelled herself,’ Ryan observed as Terise set out chicken roulade, salads and crusty bread rolls. Dessert consisted of fresh fruit and slices of Maggie’s chocolate mud cake, with a flask of coffee for Ryan and Terise.

  ‘All we need is a jug of wine,’ she mused, after polishing off a surprising amount of lunch.

  He tilted a dark eyebrow at her. ‘“And Thou beside me singing in the Wilderness”?’

  Her nervous laugh disguised the sudden warmth which had pervaded her at his words. ‘I doubt if the poet had twin six-year-olds in mind when he wrote that.’

  ‘If not then, in the future,’ he said, his meaning unmistakable.

  Terise’s cheeks grew warm and she looked away, ostensibly to check on the twins. Curled up on the rug, they were asleep like puppies sharing a basket. Her heart began to melt.

  ‘Attractive, aren’t they?’ Ryan’s voice was husky.

  ‘Yes.’ The lump in her throat permitted no elaboration.

  Before she knew what was happening he had slid closer on the rug, until their thighs touched. His hand cupped her chin and turned her until her mouth was aligned with his. Her breath became shallow as she realised that he meant to kiss her.

  She felt her pulses gather speed. As surely as she knew her own name she knew that she wasn’t going to refuse him, although instinct warned her that she should. Ever since he had first kissed her every part of her had craved a repeat performance, had hungered for it as a thirsty person craved water.

  What had he done to bedevil her so?

  Then he did kiss her, his hand curling around the nape of her neck to deepen the pressure. Her senses began to spin as her softness yielded to his hardness, with a sense almost of homecoming. For whole, dizzying moments, she managed to forget who and what he was. There was only a heady sense of rightness, of completeness as he wove a magical spell of sensation around her, drawing her deeper and deeper into the web of his embrace.

  Trudy rolled over and began to rub her eyes, making a mewing sound like a baby animal. The sound was slight, almost lost in the rhythms of the bush and the seashore, but it was enough to make Ryan draw back. He took his time, seemingly unperturbed that his daughter might see him kissing the nanny.

  ‘Incredibly attractive,’ he murmured, his eyes molten as they lingered on her dazed expression.

  She had to know. ‘Why did you do that?’

  ‘Can’t you guess?’

  ‘But you told me... You warned me...’

  ‘I warned you against looking for anything permanent from me. A kiss is hardly a lifetime commitment.’

  She felt as if he had dashed cold water over her. So she was simply another of the day’s pleasures—there for the taking. She could hardly believe she had been such a fool.

  What was worse, he must know exactly how foolish she had been. He must read it in her eyes and the flushed excitement in her face, to say nothing of the trembling which betrayed her as she gathered up the picnic things. She shouldn’t be surprised by his behaviour. Clair had given her enough warning. She had no one to blame but herself that she had ignored it.

  ‘There is such a thing as sexual harassment,’ she
reminded him angrily, knowing how far away from any such thing his kiss had been.

  ‘What’s ’rassment?’ Lisa demanded, sitting up.

  He folded his arms across his broad chest, a challenge gleaming in the grey eyes. ‘Yes, Terise, do explain it to us.’

  ‘You know perfectly well what it is—as you’ve just demonstrated,’ she hissed.

  ‘Oh, but that hardly fits the category, since harassment—’ his explanation was pointedly aimed at Lisa ‘—is when you bother somebody when they don’t want to be bothered.’

  ‘Like when I ask you things when you’re working?’ Lisa interpreted.

  ‘Exactly.’ His gaze raked over Terise, daring her to contradict him. ‘When you want to be bothered, and you show it, it’s something else entirely.’

  His meaning was all too clear. By inviting his kiss, and returning it, she had lost all claim to outrage. It didn’t prevent her from feeling utterly miserable, knowing that she’d betrayed her quest as well as herself.

  To make matters worse, the kiss haunted her all the way home, and she saw from the taunting glances he threw her way that he was well aware of it.

  She was thankful that the children, tired after the outing, had settled down with picture books in the back seat. Being alone with her thoughts wasn’t comfortable, but it was better than enduring Ryan’s verbal sparring, where she invariably came out the loser.

  She was startled enough to jump when his low voice intruded on her reverie. ‘I’m going away next week. It’s another reason I wanted to spend today with the children.’

  Her sense of loss caught her by surprise. How could she feel the loss of something that wasn’t hers in the first place? Since a response seemed expected, she asked, ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘To my property in Bowral. The trade assembly delegate and I have a lot to discuss, and the country atmosphere will set the scene.’

  Will win the delegate’s vote for Sydney, she interpreted. Unreasoning anger rose inside her. ‘Can’t you take Trudy and Lisa with you? You saw how much they enjoyed your company today.’

  ‘This is a business trip,’ he reminded her curtly, evidently less than pleased with her suggestion.

  She persisted, aware of the anxiety the children would suffer if he went away without them. They were bound to associate his departure with the loss of their mother, and she said so.

  He gave an impatient sigh. ‘You have a point, unfortunately. And it is school holidays next week, so there’s no real reason why they shouldn’t come along. You’d have charge of them while I’m working.’ He fell silent, considering the idea, then added, ‘Maybe a glimpse of family life might help the cause.’

  Terise felt the slow burn rising. ‘Naturally the bid is what matters.’

  ‘Shouldn’t it?’ His voice was arctic.

  ‘You know the saying about all work and no play.’

  ‘It hasn’t made me dull company so far—as you found out for yourself today.’

  She turned her face aside, to hide her heightened colour, and was relieved to see that they were turning into the underground car park. It saved her from answering the unanswerable yet again.

  She almost wished she hadn’t suggested taking the children with him, because she had just sentenced herself to more time in his company when it was the last thing she needed. It was right for the children, but knowing that didn’t help her own misgivings.

  At least he would be occupied with the trade delegate, she consoled herself, noting the black bulk of an Alpha Romeo in the visitor’s spot next to Ryan’s reserved parking space. How much trouble could she get into with another businessman there to act as chaperon?

  CHAPTER FIVE

  TROUBLE came in many guises, Terise was reminded when she joined Ryan in the living room for pre-dinner drinks with his guests.

  He stood shoulder to shoulder with two formally dressed men, one of whom must have been the delegate. Both men paled into insignificance beside the awesome sense of presence she was beginning to associate with Ryan. He also wore formal dress, of herringbone double breasted jacket with a black satin collar over a white dress shirt and silk bow tie, but he wore it with a style the other men lacked. He might have been commander of a battleship, or president of a country. It was all suggested in the commanding poise of his stance.

  When she hovered on the threshold, he set his drink aside and came towards her. ‘Come and meet the delegate.’ He took her arm, and some of his confidence flowed into her as if she had been transfused. She held herself straighter, curious to see which of the men he would nominate.

  But he ignored them both, steering her to a chair whose back was to the door. ‘Cecily Elbrun, I’d like to introduce one of my staff—Terise O’Neill.’

  The woman rose in a fluid movement which suggested she might once have trained as a dancer. ‘How do you do, Miss O‘Neill?’

  Stunned into silence, Terise brushed the fine-boned hand which was held out to her. She could hardly believe that this petite, exquisitely turned out woman was a delegate to the international trade assembly. The look she flashed at Ryan said that he might have warned her.

  The amusement sparking in his eyes told her that he was enjoying her startled reaction. Cecily Elbrun was no more than thirty, as slender as a porcelain doll and with a sweet face that hinted at a fascinating ancestry. Hair the colour of midnight cascaded to her waist, barely tamed by a pearl ornament at her nape.

  ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you,’ Terise finally managed to stammer. She was eternally thankful not to have rejected the velvet dress, which she now wore with black satin shoes and the diamond ear-studs she had inherited from her mother. No doubt Cecily Elbrun could calculate the value of her outfit to the last dollar. Thanks to Ryan, Terise’s clothes, at least, wouldn’t be found wanting.

  The other two men turned out to be members of Ryan’s board of directors. Terise now knew why she had been invited—to balance the numbers of men and women.

  Ryan himself seemed to lose interest in her once the introductions were out of the way, preferring to direct his notice to the lovely delegate, who seemed more than willing to bask in his undivided attention.

  For some reason Terise found herself bristling as she watched them together, the fine hairs on the back of her neck lifting whenever Cecily Elbrun touched his sleeve to make a point. It wasn’t as if she cared, Terise assured herself. Even though Ryan had kissed her that same afternoon, he’d made it clear that it meant nothing. Business before pleasure, she thought, wondering acidly if he was combining business with pleasure this evening.

  Maybe that was why he’d resisted taking the children to Bowral with him. This looked like the kind of lobbying he would relish.

  She comforted herself by thinking that he was probably showing his true colours at last. Was there a scandal in his relationship with Cecily Elbrun which Terise could leak to the Press?

  The possibility should have excited her. It was why she’d taken this job after all. So why did she feel so uncomfortable, trying to eavesdrop on his conversations with the other woman? What was happening to her desire for revenge for Clair’s sake? The question troubled Terise so much that she finally gave up, and turned her attention to the executives seated on either side of her at dinner.

  From them she learned that Cecily Elbrun had been born in Vietnam to French parents, spending most of her youth travelling with her family. Now she lived in Australia, her time taken up with more travel on behalf of the world trade assembly.

  No wonder Ryan found her fascinating, she thought, unwillingly comparing the other woman’s glamorous background with her own country-town upbringing. Why it should matter, she wasn’t sure, but it hurt all the same.

  ‘You made quite a hit with Alex and Gordon,’ Ryan told her after dinner. Cecily had returned to her city hotel, prompting the executives to take their leave also.

  ‘They’re charming company,’ she said, unable to keep a barbed note out of her voice.

  ‘Like our delegate
. What do you think of the lovely Cecily?’

  It was impossible to deny. ‘She is lovely. You seem to have made... quite a hit with her yourself.’ She threw his own words back at him with the slightest touch of irony.

  His silence was electric as he regarded her speculatively. ‘You don’t like her?’

  How could she admit that she didn’t like what Ryan became with her? It was the man Terise had come to find, yet, having found him, she didn’t like it one bit. The only puzzle was why it should trouble her so much.

  ‘I hardly know her,’ she said lightly. ‘From Alex and Gordon I gather she has a reputation as a tough negotiator in business.’

  ‘And the appearance of being anything but, which serves her well.’ He poured a nightcap for them both without consulting her. As she accepted the drink, he added, ‘I’ve known Cecily a long time—since we were teenagers. Both of our parents were in the diplomatic corps, so we’ve knocked around the world together for years.’

  Again a feeling very like jealousy flooded through Terise, but she resisted it. What he did and with whom was none of her business—except when it helped to solve the riddle of his relationship with her stepsister. In his company, and with the late hour cloaking them in intimacy, it was dangerously easy to forget.

  ‘Won’t your friendship create a conflict of interest when she has to vote on Sydney hosting the assembly?’ she asked, anxious to keep the conversation on neutral ground.

  ‘Cecily is experienced enough to separate the two.’ He gave a cynical laugh. ‘So you can forget what you’re thinking, about me taking her to Bowral to seduce her into supporting our bid.’

  Her face betrayed her shock. It was so exactly what she had been thinking that she was stunned. Could he read her mind now? ‘It’s hardly any of my business, is it?’ she demanded, uncomfortably aware of how waspish she sounded.

  ‘Agreed.’ He snapped the word out. ‘But since you seem to enjoy—gossip—I thought it worth stating for the record.’

 

‹ Prev