And the Bride Wore Black

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And the Bride Wore Black Page 12

by Helen Brooks


  ‘Oh...thank you.’ She thought for a moment and then wrote swiftly, ‘Who caught who?’ Would he tie it in with that first message?

  Alex was standing just where she had left him when she stepped out of the lift and as she glanced over and saw his big dark figure quite detached from the rest of the noisy milling throng she felt a jolting sensation in her heart region. He looked severe and distant, and absolutely gorgeous.

  The golden gaze fixed on her when she was a few yards away and he smiled lazily, his eyes travelling to the huge box in her hands which contained Isabella’s gift. The key-ring was in her pocket. ‘You don’t mean to say you’ve chosen something already?’ he said mockingly as she reached his side. ‘Curiouser and curiouser, as Lewis Carroll wrote. You’re a real little Alice, aren’t you?’

  ‘Am I?’ She smiled nonchalantly, her stomach churning as he wrapped an arm protectively round her shoulders, pulling her into his side, fighting the pleasure the act of possession aroused.

  ‘You sure are.’ He looked down at her, his eyes travelling over the tousled blonde hair and huge violet eyes before they fastened on her lips. There was a heat in their depths that caused the fluttering in her stomach to intensify a hundredfold. ‘Most of the women I know take a couple of hours to choose a lipstick!’

  ‘Do they?’ She smiled again, forcing her lips to turn upwards as his words rang painfully in her ears. ‘Most of the women I know’. Oh, she hated all this, she did!

  ‘Fancy a coffee before we leave?’ He took the box from her, tucking it under his arm.

  ‘Where?’ They were moving towards the lift and he glanced down at her, a wry smile on his face.

  ‘Well, we could go to my office on the top floor. It’s nice and warm there and quite secluded, and once Tomkins has brought the coffee I could make sure we are quite alone. Or...’ the tawny gaze was mocking ‘...we could go to the coffee lounge on the third floor.’

  They stepped into the lift and he smiled down at her pink face as he pressed the button for the third floor. ‘When I think of the girls who would have jumped at that offer,’ he said lazily into her ear as they stood pressed together in the close confines of the crowded lift. ‘You don’t know what you’re missing.’

  ‘Why don’t you ask one of them, then?’ she said snappily as the metal doors swished open on the third floor.

  His answering chuckle made her teeth grind in helpless defiance and she eyed him balefully as he led her over to the fresh aroma of percolating coffee.

  It was dusk when they stepped back into the icy air, the pavements treacherous underfoot and the heavy sky a pale pink against the white world beneath. The long, low car was forced to pick its way carefully through the crowded streets, growling softly at the indignity, and then they were in the open countryside again, the hedges and trees picked out in startling clarity against the darkening red sky.

  ‘There’s a picture-book view at the top of this hill,’ Alex said quietly when they had been driving for ten minutes or so. As they reached the peak of the gently rising fell he drew to a halt, letting the slow purr of the car’s engine fall silent as the grandeur of the sweeping wooded slopes dotted with the odd stone farmhouse and tiny isolated village tucked away in the snow-covered expanse worked their timeless magic.

  Fabia forgot the flutter of panic she had felt when he had stopped the car, forgot that the man sitting next to her so quietly was a ruthless man of the world used to having his smallest whim granted with immediate deference, forgot everything as she gazed out into the miles upon miles of Christmas-card countryside frozen in exquisitely pale beauty beneath a darkening sky of red and gold. It was breathtaking, and the heavens had turned a light milky grey before she glanced at him, coming back to the world surrounding her with a small sigh that expressed what words couldn’t.

  His eyes were fixed tight on her face, a sensual slumberous warmth in their browny-gold depths that had her breath catching in her throat and her lips half opening in anticipation. His mouth was warm and mobile as it covered hers demandingly until he was crouched over her in her seat and she felt as if time itself had been suspended. His hands moved beneath the warm tweed of her coat without her realising it, drawing her into him with sensuous ease as they caressed each curve and contour of her melting body. She was utterly lost in the moment, the beauty of the world outside and the scent of his light tangy aftershave creating a heady sensation of pliant, soft oneness that had her moaning his name against his hard mouth. His breathing was harsh and ragged as he felt her response and now his lips were exploring her face as though he were blind, moving over her flushed skin in tiny darting kisses that had her straining against him for more, her arms reaching up to the broad shoulders above her in wordless abandonment.

  It was when she felt the coolness of air tighten her breasts that realisation dawned. She had been unaware that he had unbuttoned her dress, unaware of anything except the sweet pressure of his mouth and the feel of the hard, dominant body next to hers, but now she recoiled as though he had struck her, moving violently beneath him so that his hands were stilled and his mouth raised from hers.

  ‘What is it?’ He raised his head to stare into the wide, shocked blue eyes. ‘I won’t hurt you—don’t be frightened.’

  ‘No...’ She struggled against him, pushing his hard chest with the flat of her hands, and he moved away immediately, his face settling into the expressionless mould she knew so well that hid his feelings like a cold blank mask.

  ‘It’s him, isn’t it,’ he said quietly and with no trace of emotion in his voice, making the words a statement rather than a question. ‘It might be over but you’re still thinking of him, aren’t you?’ The slanted eyes swept over her flushed face as he raked back his heavy fall of hair with his fingers. ‘Do you love him that much? He must have left you, finished it, and yet you still want him that badly?’ As he turned from her and rested his hands on the steering-wheel she noticed, with a detached numbness, that they were shaking slightly, but apart from that he betrayed no feeling at all. They could have been discussing the weather all those moments before, such was the quietness of his whole being now.

  ‘I can’t explain...’ She knew she was going to cry in another moment and bit hard on her bottom lip to still the tears as she buttoned her dress with shaking hands, staring out of the side-window into the colourless world outside as she pulled her coat more closely round her.

  After a full minute he relaxed back into his seat with a deep sigh, his hands still on the steering-wheel and his eyes straight ahead. ‘I’m sorry, Fabia; believe it or not, that wasn’t planned,’ he said quietly. ‘I’m not the sort of man to seize upon any advantage and it’s been years since I’ve made love in a car.’ He stopped suddenly. ‘Hell, I’m making things worse, aren’t I? What I’m trying to say is—’

  ‘I know, I know.’ She couldn’t look at him—if she did she would be lost—so she stared out through the side-window, her face as white as the snow outside. ‘Could we go back now, please...?’

  He said nothing, adjusting his long legs in the close confines of the car as he turned the key in the ignition, his face grim and cold as he checked the mirrors before turning the car fully into the road and continuing down the hill, the car lights gleaming yellow in the darkness.

  She felt sick with mounting horror as she remembered how easily he had overcome all the barriers erected so firmly during the last seven years. She had barely allowed a man to kiss her in all that time, earning a reputation for frigidity, she knew, but hugging it to her as though it were a prize. She hadn’t wanted to be involved with anyone again—even the nicest of the men she had occasionally dated had left her cold—and here she had virtually thrown herself into his arms, inviting— She closed her eyes for a second and forced back the tears that were threatening to overflow. Inviting a lot more than she had got, she admitted honestly. She couldn’t have blamed him if he had been unable to stop; all her signals had been bright green... She moaned silently. What was he thinking
? She dared not risk a glance at his face.

  The short drive home seemed like hours, so rigid and tense was her body, and as they drove through the gates and into the sweep of the long drive she uncurled her hands from her lap and tried to soften the tightness in her face. It was Christmas Eve, there was bound to be a houseful when they got in, and she had to appear relatively normal if only for Isabella’s sake.

  It seemed as though every light in the house was glaring as they drew to a scrunchy halt outside the door, and as Alex noticed a large white Mercedes to one side of the driveway he frowned, his eyes narrowing in protest. ‘Great, just what we need—Susan and family en masse, if I’m not mistaken. I told everyone to keep their visits confined to the day for once; Isabella can’t take too much excitement and she’ll be exhausted by now.’

  ‘Susan?’ Her timid enquiry was lost as he opened his door abruptly and marched round to her side of the car, opening her door and helping her out with his eyes fixed on the house. Almost as though he had willed it, the door opened a second later to reveal a horribly familiar figure, the sleek dark hair swept up into an elegant chignon, each strand beautifully in place.

  ‘Alex, darling, we’ve been waiting absolutely ages. We couldn’t go without saying hello, now, could we?’ The woman moved gracefully towards them down the steps, and as she placed herself unasked into Alex’s arms Fabia realised she was a little older than she had first supposed, probably thirty or so, and as the lovely face glanced at her for a piercing moment with big beautiful green eyes Fabia knew something akin to an electric shock shoot down her spine. She had never before in her life experienced a look of such angry, undisguised hate; there had been something in those jade-green eyes that was positively malignant, something that reached out at her through the icy air with fierce animal viciousness and curled her insides in protest.

  ‘Susan.’ Alex gently disentangled the slim arms from around his neck and placed them firmly at the woman’s sides, softening the gesture with a warm smile as he looked down at the beautiful face staring up at him. ‘Are your parents with you, and the children?’

  ‘Of course.’ Seemingly unrebuffed, Susan placed her arm in his, ignoring Fabia as though she didn’t exist. ‘Daddy had to drive. You know I daren’t take the car out on roads like these.’ She smiled helplessly up into his face like a little girl asking for approval.

  ‘I’d like you to meet Fabia.’ He uncoiled Susan’s arm with amazing dexterity and reached out for Fabia, curving her into the crook of his arm as he moved slightly to one side. ‘Fabia, meet Susan, an old friend of the family.’

  ‘Hello.’ Fabia smiled into the beautifully made-up face, noticing as she did so that Susan’s large green eyes had turned glacial the moment they had fixed on her.

  ‘Hello, sweetie.’ Susan held out a soft manicured white hand. ‘I’ve seen you before, haven’t I, at one of Alex’s receptions?’ She smiled a sugar-sweet smile that didn’t reach the cold jade eyes. ‘I didn’t realise you were one of Alex’s...girlfriends.’

  The brief but very definite hesitation before the word ‘girlfriend’ was a subtle insult that only another woman would recognise, and Fabia looked hard at the other woman, her face straight. ‘Probably because I’m not one of them,’ she said coolly. ‘I’ve never been one for sharing what belongs to me. I am the girlfriend.’ She smiled a slow, long deliberate smile.

  Both Susan and Alex were staring at her with equal astonishment on their faces if for different reasons. Alex clearly had no idea why Fabia had stated her case so firmly and Susan was obviously astounded that the gauntlet had been taken up with such speed. She opened her mouth to say more and then caught the glint in Fabia’s eye and decided against it. ‘How nice...’

  Fabia smiled sweetly. ‘We think so, don’t we, darling?’ She looked up into Alex’s face, which had a distinctly mesmerised tinge to it now. He had said he wanted her to be herself, hadn’t he? Well, there was no way she was going to let a spoilt little rich girl like Susan put her down without a fight.

  ‘Uncle Alex! Uncle Alex!’ As two small figures came hurtling through the open doorway and launched themselves into Alex’s arms she caught an expression of what could almost be termed triumph on Susan’s face. What now? It was clear the children adored him and he them, and as Fabia walked by Alex’s side into the house, a child perched on each of his arms, she wondered with a feeling of dread gripping her heart what other little surprises Alex had in store for her this Christmas.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  BY THE time Susan’s parents left an hour later with their daughter and grandchildren in tow, Fabia had passed through so many different emotions that she felt quite exhausted. The initial feeling of outrage at the other woman’s deliberate snub and continued offhand disregard that bordered on rudeness had first changed to exasperation, then contemptuous disgust, to finish in such a mixture of feelings that even she couldn’t have named them. Apart from one—anger. That alone had remained constant throughout.

  The instinctive dislike that had first risen with Susan’s discourtesy had been swiftly replaced by revulsion at the way the other woman quite blatantly used her children to further her friendship with Alex, encouraging them to sit on his knee and exulting openly in his easy relationship with them. ‘Isn’t Alex just a darling with the kiddies?’ Susan said in a soft undertone to Fabia as she was preparing to leave. ‘I just don’t like to think how I would have coped without him when poor William died.’

  ‘William?’ Fabia asked coolly.

  ‘My late husband, such a dear, dear man,’ Susan said unemotionally. ‘Heaps older than me, of course, but he was so in love with me and I was too young then to know what I really wanted.’ The hard green eyes fastened on Alex hungrily.

  ‘But of course you are quite a few years older now?’ Fabia said drily, deciding enough was enough, and effectively finishing further conversation as Susan departed with head held high and cheeks burning, her eyes glacial.

  Alex seemed to take an inordinate amount of time seeing them all off and his smile as he re-entered the room seemed like the last straw. ‘Anything wrong, Fabia?’ He looked at her oddly.

  ‘Fabia has a headache,’ Isabella intervened firmly and smoothly with an understanding glance at her stiff face. ‘Why don’t you go and have a rest before dinner, Fabia? I intend to.’

  Those sharp black eyes missed very little, Fabia thought wryly as she smiled gratefully at Isabella. The tiny woman had been aware of every little subtle snub Susan had sent in her direction and Fabia had noticed Isabella’s coldness with the lovely brunette. ‘I will, thank you,’ she said quietly, leaving the room quickly with just a cool nod at Alex as she passed him. The fact that he appeared quite oblivious both to Susan’s behaviour and her own fury made her doubly irritated as she lay down on the soft bed, turning out the main light and leaving just the subdued glow from one small lamp to light the large room.

  Men can be so blind, she thought bitterly as she lay in the warm semi-darkness, her mind buzzing with a thousand images. Alex chasing Gemma, Susan’s little five-year-old, on all fours, growling madly while pretending to be a lion. Alex listening seriously with complete concentration while Jeremy, at eight years old, explained the rudiments of football. Alex— ‘Stop it, stop it!’ Her voice was loud in the empty room and she rolled over on the bed, hands on her ears as she endeavoured to shut out the pictures.

  It had hurt to see him like that and she didn’t understand why. She could cope with the ruthless millionaire businessman image or charming philanderer—just—but seeing him playing with the children, his male strength more marked against their fragility, had touched something deep inside her that was acutely painful.

  He’s nothing to you, so it doesn’t matter, she told herself firmly as she glanced at her watch, deciding to have a leisurely bath before dinner. Susan isn’t the first and she won’t be the last, you know that. You know it.

  So why, when she knew the inescapable truth, did it hurt so much? she thought late
r as she lay soaking in the warm, scented water. Why was there a permanent ache in her heart these days, and why the mad churning in her stomach every time she so much as thought of him?

  I wish I could go back to the flat, she thought suddenly. Back to a safe little hidey-hole where I could lick my wounds in peace. But I haven’t got any wounds, she argued hotly with that voice in her mind, sitting bolt upright in the bubbles, slopping water over the edge of the bath on to the thick fluffy carpet. I won’t let there be any!

  She heard the knock on the door and tensed before remembering that it was Mary’s time to come and turn down the beds, a ritual she never missed and insisted on doing. The small woman had taken to spending five minutes with her when possible, filling her in on the history of the house and its occupants.

  ‘Come in...’ She slid back down under the bubbles as she spoke.

  ‘Now I’d love to take you up on that, I really would, but as I suspect the invitation was given in error I’ll restrain my natural tendencies with noble self-control.’

  ‘Alex?’ Her voice was a panic-stricken squeak. ‘I thought you were Mary. Don’t come in!’

  The sound of a lazy rich chuckle did amazing things to her insides and she curled her toes in the water, her heart jumping. ‘You really haven’t got the spirit of Christmas at all, angel-face—goodwill to all men and so on.’ There was a moment’s silence and when she didn’t speak he tapped the door again gently. ‘I just called by to say that Isabella is feeling rather tired and is going to have dinner in her room.’ There was a faint note of concern for his grandmother in the dark voice in spite of his efforts to hide it. ‘It will just be the two of us downstairs so don’t bother to dress for dinner—we’ll be relaxed and casual. OK?’

  She knew what he meant but a sudden vision of them both sitting at the magnificent dining-table stark naked brought a smile to her lips and hot colour to her cheeks. Where had that thought come from? ‘OK, see you in a minute,’ she said reluctantly, suddenly realising that without Isabella’s presence the meal would become subtly more intimate.

 

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