CHAPTER Two
Connor barely noticed the radiant beauty of the stained-glass window backlit by the afternoon sun. Or how the kaleidoscopic light fell onto the faces of bride and groom, giving them an otherworldly quality. Instead he stood stiffly next to her behind the bridal pair as they exchanged vows, Michael’s voice deep and serious, Suzy sounding much breathier.
His anger at her had driven away his annoyance that Michael had dared to discuss Connor’s abortive personal affairs with Suzy. He couldn’t bear the thought of being pitied by anyone.
Although he could hardly accuse her of pitying him.
Unwillingly Connor slanted a sideways look at the maid of honor. He’d planned to ignore her today. She’d said little at dinner last night. Despite his threats to Michael, his and Suzy’s matchmaking efforts had been irritatingly obvious, and Connor had no intention of giving the argumentative woman any encouragement. The next woman he dated would be pure entertainment … no strings and plenty of hot sex. Not another high-flyer married to her career.
Her pallor last night had suggested she’d be more prone to headaches than hot sex. So had her attitude—she’d excused herself just after eleven, pleading exhaustion, but when he’d offered her a ride home she’d given him a look that suggested she’d rather eat slugs, and insisted on calling a taxi.
He had to admit she looked much better today. Suzy’s doing, no doubt. He almost hadn’t recognized her at the church door. Only her height—she was tall, her head coming up to his chin—her slender body and those wary hazel eyes had identified her.
Yet she was impossible to ignore.
Yesterday’s rumpled white shirt and black sacklike skirt had given way to an ultrafeminine dress of some pale, gauzy fabric that turned what he could see of her skin to the delicious luminescence of pearl. She’d done something different with her hair, too, twisting the dark strands up so it exposed the soft, pale skin of her neck, and a couple of loose tendrils brushed the slope of her shoulders.
And all that bare, feminine skin tempted him to touch, to stroke.
What the hell was he thinking? One week without a woman to call his own and even this plain, uptight female was starting to look attractive.
Despite Michael’s advice, the last thing he needed in his life was a woman. Even if he did, this one didn’t qualify—she was way too intense. And, as Suzy’s best friend, too complicated.
A hush fell over the church and he turned his head to watch Michael slip a plain gold band onto Suzy’s finger. There was a moment where the world seemed to hold its breath, and Michael looked positively bewitched.
Connor let out the breath he was holding.
He should’ve advised Michael on the wedding band. Women liked diamonds. Dana would’ve demanded a humdinger—for investment purposes of course. Michael should at least have had a row of diamonds channel set.
The priest was giving Michael permission to kiss the bride. Connor blanked out the sighs from the congregation and his awareness of the woman standing beside him, and found himself hoping Suzy would be more trustworthy than Dana had been.
Then, thankfully, the service was over. As they filed out of the church Connor pulled out his BlackBerry and made a note to himself about a meeting with a Realtor to look at new offices that he’d remembered he was supposed to attend on Monday.
The maid of honor—he really should remember her name—was glaring at him. Guiltily he stuck the BlackBerry back in his pocket.
“Wait,” she ordered as he headed for the stairs. “Michael and Suzy will want a photo at the church door.”
Violet? Was that her name? “There’s a wedding photographer to do that.” He gestured to where the man stood. “I didn’t bring a camera.”
“They might want us to be in the photo with them. We should smile. Look happy.”
“Sure.”
She shot him a narrow look; clearly she hadn’t missed his sarcasm. Not Violet, but it had been something equally old-fashioned. Edith? No, that wasn’t right, either.
He was saved from the need to reply by Michael and Suzy’s emergence from the church, their faces alight with what even he could recognize was joy. Envy speared him. Then he suppressed it. He was done with love and romance … from now on his relationships would be based purely on sex. No emotion. No tenderness.
That way there would be no betrayal.
The bridal couple paused under the arched church door beneath a flurry of pink-and-white rose petals, and the photographer leapt into action.
The damn woman had been right.
Unbidden, his eyes landed on her. She was smiling, and Connor had to admit it transformed her face. At least she wasn’t gloating. His gaze lingered on her curved lips and he couldn’t help noticing that her mouth was very pretty when it wasn’t screwed up in disapproval.
“Connor, Victoria, over here!” called Suzy.
Victoria. Of course! “We’re being summoned.” He placed a hand under her elbow. Her skin was silky beneath his fingertips. Out of nowhere a totally unexpected surge of lust hit him. Perhaps the wedding reception wouldn’t be such an ordeal after all …
Suzy was beckoning impatiently. “Come on, we need a photo with the two of you.”
“I told you so,” muttered Victoria.
Connor shot her a look of dislike. Okay, so he’d been wrong on two counts. Firstly, the reception was going to be every bit as bad as he’d imagined and, secondly, she had been gloating. She’d simply concealed it under that sweetly deceptive smile.
All desire waned. It didn’t need Michael’s grin—nor the pointed look to Connor’s hand where it rested—for his hand to drop away from her arm.
The further he stayed away from Queen we-are-not-amused Victoria, the better.
On entering the ballroom, Connor discovered—much to his horror—that rather than the two of them flanking the bridal pair, he and Victoria had been seated beside each other.
“Give the two of you a chance to talk, seeing that all my attention will be on my bride,” Michael murmured sotto voce, holding a chair out for Suzy, who glanced up and gave Connor a little wave, her eyes glittering with mischief.
Irritation swarmed through Connor and he glared at the smug groom.
Connor survived the first round of speeches by ignoring Victoria completely, although if he’d been honest he’d have had to admit that the subtly seductive scent she wore didn’t make that easy. By the time he had to propose a toast to the bride and groom he’d downed three glasses of too-sweet wedding wine. When the first notes of the wedding waltz struck up he looked vainly around for a waiter to order a double whiskey.
“Come on,” an unwelcome voice beside him prompted. “We should join them.”
“I’m not dancing,” he said flatly, settling for another glass of sweet champagne with a grimace.
Her gaze landed on the glass and her straight eyebrows drew together in a frown. “Surely you’re not going to use Suzy and Michael’s wedding as an excuse to get drunk?”
Deliberately provocative, he raised the tulip-glass in a mocking toast. “I’m celebrating the love that you believe in.”
“Don’t be so flippant.” Her disapproval deepened. “This is the happiest day of Suzy and Michael’s life and you’re going to ruin it for them if you carry on. And all because you’re too busy feeling sorry for yourself.”
Connor blinked in disbelief. “What did you say?” He couldn’t have heard right. Everyone had been p-ssyfooting around the subject of Dana and Paul’s affair. Surely she wouldn’t dare …
Their eyes locked. Hers were more green than brown, flashing little flecks of gold. It wasn’t pity he read there but disdain.
He’d heard perfectly. And grew convinced this woman would dare anything.
Anger knotted in his chest.
“Snap out of it. Think of someone except yourself for a change. It’s only a couple more hours.” Her gaze dropped to the glass in front of him. “And I suggest you slow down on the alcohol.”
“I don’t know who you think you are—” he lowered his voice to a lethal rasp “—but you are way out of line.”
“I’m Victoria.” A grim smile accompanied the words. “In case you’ve forgotten, I’m the bride’s best friend—” she emphasized best “—but I don’t understand how Michael can call you a friend at all. I certainly haven’t seen you do anything to deserve it.”
Her words stung. He was on his feet before he could think. “I don’t have to listen to this!”
Startled dismay flitted across her face. She cast a quick glance to where the bride was nestled in the groom’s arms. Michael chose that moment to glance at them over the top of Suzy’s curls. Victoria muttered something that sounded suspiciously like an expletive, pushed her chair back and grabbed his hand.
“Great.” The beaming smile she turned on him transformed her face. “Let’s get dancing.”
Connor stared at her, poleaxed by the wattage of her smile. It made her look almost beautiful.
He blurted out, “You should smile more often,” and in a daze followed her onto the dance floor.
Michael slowed to a shuffle and mouthed, “Everything okay?”
Crap, she was right. Again. He was being selfish. Forcing a smile, Connor gave Michael the thumbs-up.
Everything was great.
Right.
Somehow the maid of honor was in his arms, swaying into the wedding waltz, her dress soft and silky under the hands he hadn’t even realized he’d placed on her waist.
“How did you meet Michael?” she asked, still smiling up at him.
He again noticed how lovely her mouth was and forgot the sheer fury she aroused in him. It was, after all, a very distracting mouth. One taste … it would surely rid his tongue of the aftertaste of that awful champagne.
“We’re members of the same squash club. When our original partners stopped playing—” Paul had preferred the gym “—we were both at a loose end, so we teamed up.” That had been six years ago. Despite seeing his business partner every day of his life, Connor realized Michael had proved to be the better friend. He switched off that train of thought before the bleakness that had hovered over him for the past three days descended again.
No Paul or Dana today.
Not even dreaming up grisly plans for revenge.
“Do you work with Suzy?” he asked, determined to get his mind out of the rut it kept drifting back to. Maybe Michael was right and a date with Victoria would be a good distraction.
The smile faded and her eyes turned cool. “I’m an accountant—Michael told you that, remember?”
“That’s right.” No, a date with Victoria would be a very bad idea. “But should you have reminded me? Isn’t that rude?” He gave her a sharklike smile that held no humor.
“Not as impolite as your evident disinterest—you can’t even remember my name.”
Touché. He took in the flare of rosy color on her cheeks, the sparkle of spirit in her eyes. How had he ever thought she was dreary? “Your name is Victoria. And I can’t think why I thought you were a teacher.”
“Perhaps because I know Suzy?”
No, it was that silent reserve, and the way she didn’t hesitate to correct him. He wasn’t accustomed to that—except from his assistant Iris. And that was different; Iris was a friend of his mother’s and had known him for three decades.
“It’s the way you told me off.”
She slanted him an upward glance. “Yesterday or just now? Either way, you deserved it.”
Connor tried to convince himself that yesterday’s scene had been her fault, but he couldn’t shrug off the discomfort that lingered at the memory of the expression in Suzy’s eyes. Telling himself that Victoria had provoked him didn’t wash. He was accountable for his own actions, and the fact that his life was in chaos was irrelevant.
Instead of responding, he simply shrugged.
“I think you need people to stand up to you more often.”
She pursed that luscious mouth again and Connor had a wild desire to shake her out of her righteous complacency.
“Everyone seems to know what I need.” Her lips parted and Connor got the impression she, too, was about to tell him exactly what she thought he needed. Wickedly determined to silence her, he drew her closer into his arms, bent his head and murmured in her ear, “Michael thinks I need a woman.”
Alone with Suzy in the hotel’s honeymoon suite where they’d retreated to mend the flounce of Suzy’s wedding dress, Victoria couldn’t forget the heady excitement that dancing with Connor had aroused—or the words he’d whispered in her ear.
Michael thinks I need a woman.
His touch on her waist … the way he made her feel so fragile and feminine in his arms … the glorious male scent of him that had surrounded her. She shivered.
Heavens, it had been too long since she’d dated if a man she despised could reduce her to quivering desire, she decided acerbically. Victoria pulled the final stitch tight and savagely snapped off the thread. “There, that should hold as long as you don’t put a heel through the hem again.”
“Victoria, I need a favor.”
Glancing up from where she knelt beside Suzy, Victoria met Suzy’s eyes in the floor-to-ceiling mirrored closet doors. “What’s the favor?”
“Don’t feel you have to agree.”
“How bad can it be? Come on, spit it out.”
There was a pause as Victoria arranged the skirts around Suzy’s legs, waiting. Then, “It’s harder than I thought it would be.”
At the hesitant note in Suzy’s voice, Victoria’s attention sharpened. She rocked back on her heels—no easy task given the close-fitting sheath dress she’d chosen to wear. “You can ask me anything—you know that.”
“This is different … it’s difficult. And I’m going to swear you to secrecy if you agree. You can never, ever tell anyone about it.”
Curiouser and curiouser. “Can it be more difficult than asking me to tell your mother you’d driven over her rosebushes? Did I refuse then?” Victoria raised an eyebrow, inviting Suzy to smile with her. “Granted, you didn’t swear me to secrecy that time.”
But Suzy didn’t laugh.
“You can’t be having second thoughts about your wedding?” Victoria’s heart sank at the thought. “You’re not about to run out on Michael, are you?”
Suzy’s blue eyes grew round. “Oh, no! I’d never do that. How could you even think that, Tory? Michael’s everything I ever dreamed of finding.”
The certainty in Suzy’s voice caused a sudden flare of envy. Pushing herself up off the carpet, Victoria suppressed it. She’d made her choices. After a string of disastrous relationships had ended in accusations that she was too ambitious, she’d decided there were more rewarding ways to fill her life.
She had her job. A fantastic job where she’d built up an impressive client list. And she had Suzy, the best and most loyal friend anyone could wish for.
She didn’t need a man … or a wedding.
So why on earth was she envying Suzy?
And realistically what chance did she have of finding the kind of man she wanted? A man who would let her keep the independence she craved, and love her for it? The memory of a pair of hard hands at her waist, a harsh whisper in her ear, stole over her. Certainly not a man like Connor North. Arrogant. Demanding. A man who didn’t even believe in love.
Drawing a shaky breath, Victoria forced herself to focus on Suzy, on the issue at hand rather than on the illusion of finding someone who would love her forever. “I just thought you might’ve belatedly remembered your vow never to marry again.”
“That was years ago.” Suzy waved a dismissive hand and turned to the mirror to study herself. “I’d just come from the lawyer’s office and a horrible fight about the divorce settlement with Thomas. Of course I was feeling a little sore about marriage.”
A little sore? Victoria almost laughed at the understatement but the tension in her friend’s shoulders warned against it. Suzy had studiously avoided weddings for a year after that first disastrous attempt at matrimony.
“I love Michael. I want … need…this time to work.” Suzy spun back, her dress whirling around in a froth of white, and slanted Victoria an imploring look. “You of all people must know that I want what Mum and Dad had.”
How had Suzy unerringly known to pick on the one thing that would silence Victoria?
Suzy’s parents had adored each other—and they’d been loving and incredibly kind. Whenever Victoria’s father had been overcome by a bout of wanderlust, her mother had retreated into a sobbing self-pity. It had been Suzy’s parents who had offered Victoria a bed for the night, cooked meals for her and ensured that she made it to school with her clothes clean and her homework done.
When they’d drowned in a boating accident, Suzy and Victoria had been at university and Victoria felt the double loss almost as acutely as her friend. She would never forget the sanctuary that Suzy’s home had become during her adolescent years. It had saved her, creating a debt she could never repay. Without Suzy and her parents, who knew how she would’ve turned out?
Victoria held her best friend’s gaze. “I hope you find the same happiness your parents had. I think it’s wonderful that you’ve found someone—I just don’t want you to be hurt again.”
Suzy threw her arms around Victoria. “Relax, Michael is nothing like Thomas.”
Clumsily hugging Suzy back, Victoria stared over her friend’s shoulder at their reflection in the mirror, Suzy so beautiful in her high-necked lacy wedding gown, the hem no longer dragging on the ground.
She wanted Suzy to stay happy forever. She’d hated how Thomas had made bright, bubbly Suzy so miserable. Just like her own father had killed all the joy in her mother …
How she’d resented her mother for allowing it. How she’d wished that her mother had stood up and told her father to leave, never to return—and to stop neglecting them both—rather than weeping pathetically and sinking into depression every time he vanished. If only her mother had been stronger, not so emotionally dependent on the handsome but feckless man she’d married.
Suzy’s arms dropped away. “Stop frowning, Tory. It’s my wedding day, remember?”
Victoria blinked. “How could I forget?” she said wryly, gesturing to their reflections in the mirror. “Your gorgeous dress … the flowers … the suite.”
“Connor arranged the suite—and our honeymoon to Hawaii. It’s his wedding present to us. Wasn’t that generous?”
Victoria had no intention of acknowledging any redeeming qualities in the man. “All this talk of secrets had me concerned. But if you’re truly happy then I have no cause to worry.”
There was an expression in Suzy’s eyes that Victoria had never seen before. A mixture of trepidation and yearning. The sinking feeling returned. “There is something! What is it, Suz? Are you in trouble?”
“Michael knows the reason my marriage to Thomas fell apart was because I couldn’t—” Suzy swallowed visibly “—have a baby.”
“Oh, Suzy.” Victoria took Suzy’s hands in hers. Despite the heating in the honeymoon suite, her friend’s fingers were cold.
“He knows that Thomas and I tried IVF and that it was unsuccessful. So we talked to a specialist. From my medical records, she thinks there’s still a chance I could get pregnant.”
“That’s wonderful!”
“But only if we can find an egg donor,” Suzy finished in a rush, pulling her hands free and, after a quick glance at Victoria, turning away to retrieve her bridal bouquet off the bed behind them.
“You want me to be your donor?” For a moment Victoria wondered what would be involved. Pain. Expense. All sorts of stuff she’d never had to contemplate before. Victoria took in Suzy’s tense figure, the way she hunched over her wedding bouquet as she waited for Victoria’s reply. What was some physical discomfort compared to Suzy’s pain? Suzy had already lost one husband because of her inability to conceive, and while Michael loved her, it would be understandable that she feared his love would diminish as time passed and other couples they knew started to conceive.
Suzy was more than a friend. She was the sister Victoria had never had. Her only family. The person she owed more than she could ever give back. “Of course I’ll do it. Consider it a gift. My wedding gift to you and Michael.” To help this marriage hold together. To bring Suzy the happiness she richly deserved.
Instantly she was enfolded in a fierce hug, and the fragrance from the posy of white roses and gardenias Suzy clutched wafted around them.
“Thank you!” Suzy’s eyes brimmed with tears as she pulled back. “That’s the best gift ever … even if it doesn’t work out and there’s no baby, I’ll never forget this.”
“Miracles have been known to happen. And no one deserves this miracle more than you, Suz.” Victoria felt her own throat clogging up. “Help, now you’re making me cry.”
Suzy gave her a radiant smile. “It’s okay to cry at weddings—so long as it’s the happy kind of crying. Now let’s get back downstairs—I intend to dance the night away.”
Connor wasn’t at the wedding table.
Michael thinks I need a woman. Victoria couldn’t get his mocking words out of her head. Maybe he’d decided to follow the groom’s advice and find a willing female. There would be no shortage of them among the guests.
Searching the dance floor, Victoria couldn’t pick out his dark hair and tall figure, which should have towered above everyone else. She drifted around the edge of the polished wooden floor and finally spotted him standing near the open glass doors that led out onto a wide veranda.
He turned his head as if he knew she was watching him and met her gaze. Without a word, he headed for the doors and Victoria followed automatically, drawn against all good sense.
“So do you want to dance out here in the starlight?” He stood in the shadows of the balcony, leaning against the railing, moonlight casting a strange silver-and-black glow over his face.
Her breath caught in her throat. The music spilled through the doors, a slow, sweet, seductive beat. It would take only two steps to bring her into his arms, to feel the heat of his body close to hers again. No. Madness! “The moon’s too bright tonight to speak of starlight.”
His white teeth glittered as he grinned. “You’re probably right—but then I’m sure you make a career of being right.”
He pushed away from the railing and moved toward her. “So do you concur with Michael, that the warmth of a woman’s body is what I need?” The words cut through the night.
Victoria swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. Why hadn’t she just minded her own business? He wasn’t the kind of man to play with.
“If you don’t want to dance, what are you looking for? Are you here to offer yourself?” he murmured huskily. “It’s supposed to be one of the delights of being the best man, hooking up with the maid of honor. What fun.”
Victoria found nothing amusing in his biting tone. “No.” She backed up but, before she could retreat, his arms came around her and he lowered his head.
“Don’t—” she managed, and then his mouth ground down on hers.
It wasn’t a gentle kiss. Full of whiskey and force and anger, it was unlike anything she’d ever experienced.
Victoria struggled but his grip was tight, pinning her arms at her sides. He moved closer, his thighs thrusting against her softness, making it clear he was aroused.
God.
She fought herself free. “What the hell was that about?”
“I don’t like being manipulated.” He was breathing hard. “I don’t want a woman, understand?”
“You’re insane.” She resisted the urge to retort that he was fooling himself—he was desperate for a woman. For her.
“You’re saying you didn’t come out for exactly that? Conspiring with your friend, hoping to catch me on the rebound?”
“You are such a jerk.” She swung her back on him, determined to leave him out here alone.
He grabbed her and yanked her back. “Not nice.”
This time when his lips descended she knew what was coming—and tensed.
But it was different.
Soft, seductive. His tongue stroked the corners of her mouth until she parted her lips, granting him access. This time he kissed her with a dark desire that stirred wants that had never been woken. Dark, traitorous desires. And when his hands swept up over her arms, down her back, she edged closer, craving more—wishing he’d sweep her off to someplace private where they could spend hours together exploring naked skin and sweet sensations.
By the time he ended the kiss she was ready to do whatever he asked.
Connor North set her away from him with shaking hands. “Now, tell me that wasn’t what you wanted.”
She lifted a hand to her mouth, the fullness of her lips tingling. Damn Connor North. He must surely be aware of his effect on her. Sucking in a shuddering breath, she said, “Don’t try it again or I’ll slap you so hard it’ll leave marks on your face.”
He laughed. “Here—” he thrust a pristine, folded white handkerchief at her “—use this for that other dramatic gesture B-grade girls love. Wipe it across your mouth and make the necessary sounds of disgust.” His eyes glittered wildly in the half light.
Ignoring the shaky feeling inside, Victoria quirked one expressive, dark eyebrow. “Girls do that to you often?”
“No … but then the women I know don’t threaten to slap me, either.” His not-so-subtle emphasis of the word women caused color to flame in her face.
She balled the handkerchief in a fist, and he flinched as she raised it to his mouth.
“Stand still.” Her voice was tight. “Better I wipe my lipstick off your mouth.”
The curves of his mouth felt full and sensual under the fabric. “There, I’m done.”
Connor stared down at the red stain on the white cloth and his lips twisted. “You should have left your mark on my mouth.”
He raised his head and Victoria felt the force of his reckless attraction hit her like a surge of current. “Why would I want to do that?” She injected scorn into her voice.
He shrugged carelessly. “It would have given all the gossips something to talk about other than my scurrilous split from Dana.”
“I don’t want to be linked to you.” Victoria was appalled at the idea. “So we’re going to go back to the table and smile like crazy—for Suzy and Michael’s sake. But after today I intend to take great pains to keep as far away from you as possible.”
“That won’t be necessary. You’re hardly my type …” he paused, then added tauntingly “… Elizabeth.”
Victoria spun away and stalked inside and quite spoilt the moment by failing to remind him that her name was Victoria.