And the Bride Wore Black

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And the Bride Wore Black Page 4

by Helen Brooks


  ‘Yes, please, this is all double Dutch to me.’ There was a slightly defiant tilt to her chin as she spoke and he smiled that slow deep smile again, his eyes warm as they flickered over her beautiful face. She was feeling distinctly under-dressed for her surroundings, which didn’t help, the pencil-slim black skirt and heavy gold blouse that had been just right for the office lamentably out of place next to the exclusive creations most of the women were wearing. Still, no one could see her here. She relaxed slightly. And it was his fault! If he was embarrassed by her it was his fault.

  Alex didn’t seem at all embarrassed, leaning back in his chair with his hands on the table, his dark face implacable and his eyes alive with laughter. ‘Did you enjoy that?’

  ‘What?’ She knew exactly what he meant and glared at him as he gave a soft chuckle.

  ‘Poor Xavier, and he so prides himself on his creative cocktails; you’ve quite ruined his night.’

  ‘You didn’t have to join me, you could have had what you wanted,’ she said tartly, her eyes flashing.

  ‘I wanted to join you, Fabia,’ he said softly as all amusement left his face. ‘I’ve got exactly what I wanted.’ There was a strange expression on his face and she stared at him uncertainly for a moment or two before he leant forward to touch her cheek with the tip of one finger, his eyes unreadable. ‘I thought so—soft as silk.’

  ‘Don’t!’ She jerked back so violently from his touch that she almost knocked the glass of water that the waiter was presenting over her shoulder out of his hand.

  ‘Sorry.’ She smiled up at the young lad quickly. ‘My fault.’

  ‘Thank you, miss.’ He placed the beautifully cut crystal wine glass in front of her carefully. ‘I was told to put it in this glass, is that all right, miss?’ She grinned wryly and he gave an answering smile, communicating without words, totally on her wave-length.

  ‘Well, if that’s the best there is I suppose it will have to do,’ she said.

  ‘I wondered how you’d look with a real smile and I know now, don’t I?’ There was a note in Alex’s voice that made her raise her head sharply in surprise but his face was quite expressionless apart from a strange glow in the piercing eyes as he held her glance with his. ‘Do I have to take up waiting at tables to get under that beautiful skin?’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ she said coldly, forcing her gaze not to drop before his.

  ‘Ridiculous...?’ He leant forward again and lifted a strand of hair with one finger. ‘I don’t think it’s ridiculous. I’m sure that even now you are constraining yourself to show no emotion, although everything in you wants to jerk away from my touch. Do I repel you in some way, Fabia? Is that it?’

  ‘Don’t be—’ She stopped abruptly at the fiery gleam that flashed for a second in the gold eyes. ‘You’re nothing to me. I don’t know you, do I, so how could you repel me?’ Repel? That would have been almost funny in other circumstances. She breathed a quick prayer of thanks that they were not alone, that there were other people near by. There was a sensual charm, a fascination, that pulled her in spite of herself, and she willed herself not to show it.

  ‘You’re very beautiful, Fabia.’ His voice was like velvet now. ‘But I suppose you’re tired of hearing men say that.’ His fingers left her hair and moved to her cheek, slowly wandering down her face to trace the outline of her mouth and then continuing to the hollow of her throat where a tiny pulse was beating madly.

  ‘Don’t...’ She sat as though turned to stone, her eyes brilliant in the stillness of her face.

  ‘That’s twice you’ve said that in as many minutes.’ He smiled slowly. ‘It’s very...challenging.’ He bent forward and lightly kissed her lips before settling back into his seat again, his face wry. ‘Something tells me I shall have to dig deep before I get to the bottom of this particular Southern belle.’

  She didn’t know how to reply and so she said nothing, taking a sip of the ice-cold water before raising her face to his again. ‘What is it you want to say to me, anyway? I want to know,’ she said determinedly, her eyes wary.

  ‘I need your help,’ he said softly, his eyes narrowing as they watched her start of surprise.

  ‘My help?’ She realised her voice was too shrill and lowered it quickly as her face turned scarlet. ‘Mr—Alex, I’m sure there’s nothing I can do to help you; if anyone is in control, you are!’ There was a bite in the last words.

  ‘You don’t know what it is yet,’ he said quietly. ‘Didn’t your mother ever tell you to look before you leap?’

  ‘I’ve no intention of leaping anywhere,’ she answered quickly, ‘and I never had a mother, well, only in the biological sense, of course.’ Why reveal that to him? she asked herself crossly.

  She sensed a stiffening in the big body but his face was cool and remote when she glanced up, his expression unfathomable. ‘Meaning?’

  ‘I was an abandoned baby,’ she said lightly, forcing an airy note into her voice. ‘You know, the police need to contact the mother at once as they fear she is in need of urgent medical attention and all that.’ She waited for him to speak, to express the usual surface sympathy, but when he said nothing she continued slowly. ‘I was in a children’s home until I was two and then a succession of foster homes until I was sixteen. Took my A levels when I was eighteen—that’s how I met Joanie—and then out into the big world to earn my living. End of story.’

  ‘I see.’ He hadn’t moved. ‘So we’ve both been orphans all our lives in a way.’

  ‘I hardly think our two situations were similar.’ She smiled as she spoke but his face was straight as he looked hard at her.

  ‘No?’ He sighed softly as he leant back in his chair again. ‘A lonely child is still a lonely child whether it has ten pence or ten pounds.’

  ‘Or ten million?’ Her voice was without humour. He didn’t reply, just continuing to stare straight at her, and she flushed again as she realised the presumption of her words. ‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that,’ she said quickly. ‘I have no right to judge—’

  ‘Well, it hasn’t stopped you this far, so please don’t change the habit of a lifetime just for me.’ He was angry, very angry, she could feel it in the throb of his voice although his face was quite bland. She was beginning to realise that he gave little away, either in facial expression or body language, and that didn’t fit into the mental picture she had of him at all. Playboy, socialite... She hadn’t made a mistake, had she? An overwhelmingly catastrophic mistake?

  ‘Do you work?’ It came out quite baldly because she didn’t stop to think, and she saw his surprise in the widening of those tawny-gold eyes seconds before the thick brown lashes came down to shield his face. There was silence for a moment.

  ‘Yes, I do work, Fabia.’ He glanced up again and now the careful mask was back in place. ‘I have a large and very demanding business empire to manipulate with countless jobs and livelihoods hanging on the right decisions at the right time. But that isn’t good news.’ He smiled cynically. ‘The latest social gathering I attend or the linking of my name with such and such an actress—now that—’ he paused as his eyes sharpened ‘—that is good journalism.’

  ‘Yes...’ She looked up with immense relief as Xavier appeared at their side again to take their order. She would never have dreamt a few minutes before that she would actually be pleased to see the dapper little man, but now she gave him such a beaming smile that he was clearly quite taken aback. She felt at a complete and utter loss. All the preconceived ideas she had held about Alexander Cade seemed to be falling by the wayside and yet she didn’t trust him. She looked at him from under her long silky lashes as he gave Xavier their order in fluent French. No, she didn’t trust him an inch. He was too handsome, too rich, too powerful, a sight too much of everything, she reflected wryly. And what could a man like him possibly want with her? Fabia had no false modesty; she had been forced to evaluate herself from an early age and draw on any assets she had to the best of her ability.

  True, she
thought carefully, she was physically attractive and reasonably bright, but so were half the girls in London. In the world in which he moved beautiful people were ten a penny, so why had he taken the trouble to find her if not to punish her for the trick she had played on him and the financial loss it had caused? Panic became uppermost again and as her heart began to pound she took a hasty sip of water, holding the glass carefully in hands that trembled slightly. His power was frightening.

  ‘There is no need to be frightened of me.’ The golden-brown eyes were trained on her face again. ‘I won’t hurt you.’

  ‘I’m not frightened of you,’ she lied firmly with an upward tilt to her small chin. ‘I don’t frighten easily.’

  ‘Better and better,’ he drawled sardonically, and although he appeared to have taken her words at face value she had the uneasy feeling that the sharp cat gaze was alarmingly perceptive. She had been foolish, very foolish, to tangle with him, she thought tensely, and in spite of all his reassurances she felt instinctively that she was going to have to pay for her mistake. The debonair, rakish philanderer had been a mirage and instead she had been left facing a prowling lion, and indeed the simile seemed more than apt as she glanced at his mane of dark tawny-brown hair and the curiously gold eyes with their thick lashes that could be as clear and transparent as those of the king of the great cats, and just as unreadable. There was something about him, a hard brooding ruthlessness; he would fit into the inhospitable, cruel plains of Africa beautifully, stalking his prey carefully under a fierce burning sun and then just at the right moment—

  ‘Your salmon soufflé, miss.’ As the young waiter placed the glass bowl in front of her she almost jumped out of her skin, hiding her embarrassment with a cool smile as he disappeared again after placing Alex’s dish in front of him.

  ‘I was dreaming,’ she said lightly to the attentive gaze.

  ‘Really?’ he said quietly, his voice smooth. ‘I don’t normally have my lady companions going off into a world of their own, but there have been several firsts with you, Fabia, in our somewhat short acquaintance. I have the distinct impression that life round you is never dull.’

  There was no answer to that one and she didn’t attempt to find one, suddenly finding that in spite of the enormous butterflies that were racing around her stomach she was really quite hungry. Lunch had been hours ago and had consisted of a snatched sandwich and paper cup of tepid coffee due to one of the ceaseless panics that cropped up every few days in the advertising world. She dipped a fork into the light, fluffy soufflé.

  She didn’t know what he was paying for the meal but whatever it was it was worth every penny, she reflected wryly as she tucked into the main course of trout, cooked in a wonderful concoction of orange liqueur and lemon, with baby new potatoes and fresh green beans and carrots. ‘This is gorgeous...’ She looked up as she spoke to find his amused gaze stroking her face, a sensuality in his eyes that caused her heart to pound.

  ‘I’m glad you’re enjoying it.’ He let his glance wander for a moment down her slim shape. ‘I didn’t know if you were on a strict diet to keep that figure so perfect.’

  ‘No fear.’ Keep it friendly and general, Fabia, she thought silently, and you might just get away with this fiasco with nothing more alarming than an over-full stomach! Don’t let him see how he affects you. ‘I don’t have weight problems; I suppose my job helps.’

  ‘Really?’ He leant forward slightly, amusement pulling at the firm mouth. ‘Don’t tell me you’re a PE teacher or weight-lifter or some such thing?’ His eyes were wicked.

  ‘No.’ For some reason she didn’t want to tell him anything more about herself—she had regretted the earlier revelation as soon as it had slipped out—but there was no way she could not do so without appearing churlish. ‘I work in advertising actually—nothing physical, except that we seem to race about from morning to dusk in a state of panic most days. If I remember to eat, which isn’t often, I should think I’ve burned it all off again within minutes!’ She smiled dismissively.

  ‘I see.’ His voice was casual but she had the feeling that every little thing she told him was being computed into an extensive memory bank and filed for future reference. She could believe now he managed a billion-turnover business. There was something very intimidating about this man, a sharp directness, an astuteness that lit the cold, handsome face from within. He was like a chameleon, she thought suddenly, able to change from one facet of his complicated personality to another at the blink of an eyelid. Tonight there had just been glimpses of the socialite flirt, but it was a mask that could instantly be brought out and donned in a second. Why hadn’t she realised she had grabbed a tiger by the tail? Because he had fooled her as he fooled most people, she suspected, and he wanted it that way.

  She glanced at him from under her lashes as she ate. He would be a dangerous adversary to contend with and hopefully she wouldn’t have to, but if necessary... Her thoughts raced as her stomach filled. If necessary she would fight him. He might not be quite like Robin but he had been used to money and power all his life, and no doubt he thought he could acquire anything and anyone. But not this girl! Oh, no, not this girl.

  ‘Dessert?’ They had been sitting in silence sipping the excellent white wine he had ordered for some moments and as the waiter came to clear their plates Alex smiled at the shake of her head. ‘Oh, come on, there must still be a little hole waiting to be filled.’ He turned to the attentive waiter easily. ‘Two helpings of that delicious berry trifle gâteau your chef does so marvellously.’

  ‘Yes, Mr Cade.’

  When they were alone again she glared at him across the small space, her eyes flashing blue sparks. ‘Are you always so dictatorial?’ she said sharply. ‘Don’t you listen to other people at all?’ She suddenly felt trapped and overwhelmingly intimidated by the sheer presence of the man and it wasn’t pleasant.

  ‘I apologise,’ he said calmly as the beautiful eyes turned icy, and she felt a little shiver snake down her back. Why didn’t she just keep quiet, why antagonise him further? But she just couldn’t help herself. It wasn’t the dessert that had fired her but his dominant masculinity, which reached out to subdue her in a hundred and one ways.

  She stared at him silently. She was behaving very badly and she didn’t like herself this way but she disliked still more the strange melting feeling he could produce in her if they weren’t fighting. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said tightly as she lowered her eyes to the wine glass in her hand. ‘I’m on edge and as I said before, I don’t think I can help you with anything, Mr Cade. I didn’t want to come here and now I’m feeling—’

  ‘Manoeuvred?’ The cool sardonic voice brought her eyes shooting up to his. ‘But you are being manoeuvred, my dear Fabia, and the name is Alex, remember?’ He smiled slowly. ‘I think you are honest enough to recognise that you owe me, yes?’ She stared at him blankly as her heart began to pound. ‘Yes?’ His voice was cruelly insistent.

  ‘But—’ Her protest was cut off by the arrival of the berry trifle gâteau, and as the waiter placed the mouth-watering slice of soft cake running with brandy, whipped cream and ripe sugared berries in front of her Alex caught her eye, his expression enigmatic.

  ‘Eat and enjoy.’ His tone was uncompromising and she suddenly realised that what she did or did not eat would have very little bearing on the outcome of this disastrous evening. He had brought her out to be alone with her and for a purpose that had yet to be made clear. It could be he was just like all the other men she seemed to come into contact with these days, one thing on their minds and one thing only. But she doubted it. She looked again at the hard, handsome face. No, it wasn’t as simple as that with him. He could have any girl he wanted. He didn’t need to coerce a reluctant woman into his bed. Then what on earth was it? She gave up for the moment, picked up her spoon and dug into the rich sweet mixture with a guilty feeling of pleasure, secretly pleased that in this instance he had won the battle, and then instantly disgusted with herself.

&nbs
p; ‘Now.’ As she poured a liberal helping of cream into the dark aromatic depths of her coffee he finally spoke, and in spite of the portent of what was to come she felt a sense of relief. His silence over the last few minutes had been a little unnerving and she had known instinctively that he was collecting his thoughts in order to make plain to her what the evening had been about. ‘I have a proposal to put to you which I want you to consider carefully over the next day or two, after which time I shall be in contact with you for your decision.’ He cleared his throat.

  ‘Yes?’ He was speaking as though he were in the boardroom but the controlled, distant voice had a calming effect on the fluttering in her stomach until the tawny eyes fixed her again.

  ‘I am in need of some assistance in a somewhat...delicate area and I would be grateful if you would listen quietly to what I have to say until I have finished. Do you understand?’

  She nodded slowly, quelling the spurt of anger the formal, authoritative voice had caused. He was an enigma, this Alexander Cade, she thought silently as she looked into the stiff restrained face. Definitely an enigma.

  ‘As I mentioned to you earlier, I was brought up by my paternal grandmother on her estate in Cumbria until school age, after which time I divided my life between boarding-school and her home in the holidays. She took the place of mother and father in my life and did it very well considering that when I was first foisted on her she was already in her early fifties.’

  ‘I don’t see—’

  He cut her voice off abruptly, his face darkening. ‘Please be quiet, Fabia, and let me get on with it.’ Just for a fleeting moment she had the impression he was finding this difficult, but then she dismissed the thought as fanciful.

 

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