“It brought tears to my eyes.”
“Truly?”
“I never lie.”
“Perhaps you have on this occasion. I had the notion you weren’t at the church at all. Ashe McKinnon, by the way. I’m Callista’s cousin.”
She frowned slightly, her eyes as green as peridots. “You don’t look in the least alike.” It was hard not to be impressed by him. Aesthetically anyway. How best to describe him? All commanding male. A touch severe. Yet the kind of man women went wild over. Not her. She already knew he was too tough for her, but he did look wonderful in his formal morning suit, traditional grey with a very dashing burgundy silk cravat.
She knew from her partner, Tim, he had given the bride away. Head of the family and all that. He certainly looked the part. His height alone made him stand out. He was well over six feet, but lean, powerful. He made her feel small and at five-eight she was tall for a woman. She could feel the whipcord musculature in his arms and along his back. He was very strong.
Christy continued her abstract inspection. A deep permanent tan, not Josh’s beach boy stuff, Ashe’s was trademark Outback. He had lustrous black hair with a natural wave. If he let it grow a centimetre longer it would spring into curls. His eyes were really beautiful, brilliant like glittering whirlpools. She couldn’t see into them but he seemed to be looking right through her.
He wasn’t a sweet man. Or a man who would make a woman feel safe. He looked dangerous enough to be treated with caution. There was so much tension there. A hard impatience that was communicating itself to her. Then again he possessed a stand-apart elegance, very much in keeping with a glamorous member of the landed elite. No question about his pedigree. And he just knew about her. So what was he going to do, throw her out? For all he knew she could put up a struggle. Or maybe he had taken her measure. There was only one person she intended to embarrass and that was Josh.
He received her long scrutiny, totally unfazed. “I’m dying to know your name,” he prompted, dark voice sardonic.
“You have only to ask me. Christine Parker. My friends call me Christy.”
Her answer was gentle and low. Music. Another ace up her sleeve.
“Then I’ll call you Miss Parker. Are you a friend of the bridegroom, may I ask?” He slid his hand along her back with the surety she had a beautiful supple body.
“Now why does that sound like you’ve thrown out a challenge?” she parried.
“Possibly because you’re the sort of woman who responds to one.”
“I mean no harm, Mr. McKinnon. I want you to understand that.”
“I’m pleased to hear it.” He gave her a sardonic glance. “I can’t have you spoiling my cousin’s day.”
“I have no intention of doing anything like that,” she protested. “There’s no spite in my nature.”
“But you’re looking to upset Deakin?”
“Now you sound like you don’t care.” It was wonderful to be able to challenge him. There was something very dangerous about being close to this man. It gave her quite a jolt. In her altered state she compared it to shock therapy. Something was happening to her. She didn’t know what.
“My only concern is this reception goes off beautifully,” he said in a warning voice that left her flushed. “I’m devoted to my aunt and cousin.”
“Really?” All of a sudden Christy needed to lash out, her anger and humiliation festering. “From the look of you I wouldn’t have thought you had a tender bone in your body.”
“Play it cool, Miss Parker,” he said.
There was considerable heat between them. Christy realised with a sense of astonishment a lot of it was sexual. She wondered how that could possibly be when she still considered herself jilted by Josh. She could feel the imprint of this man’s hand right through the chiffon of her dress. It might have been pressed against her naked flesh. Her perceptions so long blunted by acute dismay were now razor-sharp. But then he was a striking, powerful, physical man, she reasoned, quite without the easy-going gentleness with which Josh had surrounded her.
Looking down at her telltale face, his expression tautened. “Let’s go,” he said abruptly. The tips of her breasts were giving him little shocks as they brushed up against him.
“Where?” She threw up her head, startled. His face was quite unreadable.
“Out into the garden,” he suggested curtly. “All the time we’ve been dancing Deakin has been staring over here. Even with his bride on his arm.”
“Pay no attention,” she said. But she hoped Josh was staring. He looked so deeply familiar she thought she couldn’t bear the whole situation. Callista looked so nice. She deserved to be happy. Christy’s instinct told her it wouldn’t be for long. Not with Josh. Josh wasn’t good enough. Josh’s only real fondness was for money. But Callista on her big day looked radiant in her beautiful ecru satin gown that glimmered with thousands of seed pearls. Her billowy floor-length organza veil was held off her small face by an exquisite diamond-and-pearl diadem that looked like a family heirloom.
After all that she knew, Christy still wished perversely things could have been different. That Josh could have been different from the man he really was.
“How well did you know him?” Ashe McKinnon asked her, his dark face taking on an aspect of contempt.
“I don’t think you want to listen.”
“Try me,” he clipped off.
“It’s all in the past. Another dimension.” She needed a huge breathing space from this man.
“It’d better be.” With one hand he lifted her face and turned his black gaze on her.
“What do you want to do, crush me?” She envied him his masculine strength. The hard detachment.
Instantly he eased his grip. What did he want with her? To pick her up and carry her off? To make love to her until she couldn’t even remember who Deakin was?
“Are you suggesting I could be that physical?”
“I could feel your anger.” Yet something about him was giving her a deep, languorous feeling. It was like being engulfed in the black velvet of night. What was she doing twisting and turning in this stranger’s arms? He was so totally different from Josh. With a powerful magnetism that reached through her pain. Moreover he was controlling her, pulling her closer.
“So are you going to tell me exactly why you are here? I’m certain you have no invitation.”
“I let it get away from me.” She glanced at him briefly, her lashes shadowing her eyes. “It flew into the air and blew away.” There was no comfort in this man, only astonishing heat. She kept seeing Josh and his bride out of the corner of her eye. Hurt spasmed through her. “Kiss me,” she ordered before she started to cry.
He shook her a little. “Because you want to make him jealous? Look at me.” He was going to kiss her before the night was over. He had never wanted to kiss a woman more in his life. This beautiful creature who was electric for another man. A man who had his cousin lovingly tucked into his shoulder. “You little fool,” Ashe muttered, lowering his dark head protectively over her. “There’s no way, no way, you can get him back.”
“I don’t want him back. I don’t!” She knew it was true but she couldn’t get herself together almost overnight.
“Is that a prayer?”
Her mouth was trembling beneath his brooding regard. “Could we go outside?”
“Why not? We’re leaving a lot of burning curiosity behind.”
It was not to be. Callista called to her cousin from across the room.
“Ashe!”