Callista, Josh gave a wry little exclamation. “What with all this talking I’m getting dry in the throat. I think I’ll get myself a drink. Could I get you anything, my darling?”
Callista gave him her sweet smile. “Oh, Joshua, please stay and meet Ashe’s new girlfriend. I must say I’m surprised. But then Ashe is the best of anyone at surprises.”
“I don’t know…” Josh’s mouth was indeed dry and his heart was thundering. Christy was always such a lady but he knew what angry women could do.
“Please, darling, for me.” Callista caught her bridegroom’s hand.
“I can’t do this,” Christy confessed to Ashe McKinnon as they crossed the floor.
“You can. I’ll see you through.” He took her hand and held it firmly.
“Who am I?” This wasn’t what she intended at all. “Who am I supposed to be?”
“You should have thought of that.” His reply was a little harsh. “You’re my deepest secret.”
“You mean you asked me?” She was drowning in confusion.
“Who else? I’m not going to risk Callista’s being badly hurt. Do you think you can smile?” He eyed her critically.
“Of course I can smile, you arrogant man.” A storm of outraged pride blew up in her. He had calluses on his palm. McKinnon the cattle baron. High power—high voltage. She had an hysterical desire to run from him.
“Would you just look at Deakin?” he said suddenly in a hard gritty voice. “My bet is he was trying to make a break for it but Callista stopped him.”
Even devastated by Josh’s betrayal, Christy could scarcely blame him.
“So what’s the play?” she asked through small clenched teeth. It was almost as though she’d known this man in another life, but she had no time to dwell on that.
“We’ll play it by ear,” he told her, giving her, quite out the blue, the sexiest smile.
It was so amazing it put the adrenalin back into her.
And hey! Josh had the frozen look of a rabbit caught in a hunter’s sights. Callista, the triumphant bride, was looking from her to her cousin as if she didn’t know what was going on. Up close Christy realised Callista was older than she had supposed. Late rather than early twenties. Probably her trust fund paid out at age thirty. The evidence was Josh couldn’t wait.
“You look absolutely lovely and so happy, Callista,” Ashe told his cousin in a surprisingly calm voice. “I hope nothing ever changes that.” He slid his arm smoothly around Christy’s waist, drawing her forward. “I’d like you to meet a friend of mine, Christy Parker. She wasn’t on the guest list because I didn’t know she’d be back from L.A.”
Josh, aware he had escaped some terrible danger, fell into his role of loving bridegroom, the expression on his face growing in confidence. “We know one another, don’t we?” he asked Christy, quite unforgivably, giving Christy a smile for which one really needed sunglasses. “You’re with Whitelaw Promotions, aren’t you?”
It was her moment to bring him down. To give him instant payback. Instead she nodded coolly. “That’s right. I think I know you, too.”
Josh prepared himself again for an onslaught. It didn’t come. “So tell me, how is Zack?” he asked in the nicest friendly fashion. He referred to Christy’s boss and the head of the public relations company.
“Fine.” She couldn’t possibly slip into casual mode. She was far too upset. “It’s been a beautiful wedding, Callista.” She turned her attention to the bride. “I wish you every happiness.” Amazingly she was able to say it.
“Thank you so much…Christy…” Callista finally got her voice going. “Wherever did you meet Ashe?” She looked avid to know.
“Well…”
“It’s a long story,” Ashe McKinnon said, locking Christy of the shining beauty to him, aware of her turmoil. She was as jumpy as a cat.
“A story worth listening to, I’ll bet.” Josh’s glance lingered long on Christy.
“Christy’s not talking.” Ashe’s vibrant voice was saturated in what sounded very much like sarcasm. “See you later, you two. I know how much you both want to be together.”
“Dear God!” Christy murmured almost inaudibly as they moved off. “I don’t normally drink but I feel like one now.”
“You did very well,” he assured her. “It was plain to me you wanted to slap him.”
“Whereas you didn’t?” Whatever this man said, he fired her. “I thought you came dangerously near to cutting.”
“I’m surprised you said that,” he drawled. “But then you don’t know me. If I’d been really cutting Deakin wouldn’t be standing. ‘Don’t I know you’?” He aped Josh’s lighter tones then they hardened. “Only the fact Callista is my cousin and she’s wearing a wedding dress stopped me from asking him to step outside.”
“I can’t imagine he could stand up to your flailing fists.” She shuddered. Josh would be no match for this cattle baron. He didn’t have that sort of invincible masculinity. In fact, she considered very belatedly, Josh was soft.
“My dear girl, I’d drop him in one.” He signalled to one of the fleet of uniformed waiters who hurried to his side. “Thank you,” he said gracefully, taking two glasses of champagne from the silver tray.
“I should go now,” Christy said quite sadly as he passed a flute to her.
“My dear, you should be thrown out,” Ashe quipped, not liking this beautiful witch’s misery.
“I don’t belong here.”
“I entirely agree with you, but you’re not going anywhere. Not yet. Come.” He took her arm. Held her captive. “Let’s leave all these good people to their exuberant high spirits. I expect you’re hungry?”
“No.” She shook her head, fighting for her dignity.
“I promise you you will be. Enough money has been spent on the food and drink at this reception to feed the entire Outback for a year.”
As they made their way out to the marquee society photographers got in the way. Flashes went off, capturing the two of them strolling along like a pair of lovers. Ashe McKinnon didn’t stop to supply Christy’s name. He didn’t have to, Christy thought shakily. At least one photographer knew exactly who she was since he’d photographed her at various functions a few times before. Without question a photograph of her with Ashe McKinnon at her side would appear in Vogue, or whatever magazine had the rights. No matter what, Christy held her shoulders back and her head high.
The food was indeed so sumptuous many of the guests stood gawking in awe before they finally moved in to sample the endless dishes. Ice sculptures in the form of larger-than-life swans decorated the tables, which were festooned with white flowers and trails of ivy down the centre. Billows of white tulle and satin ribbons decorated the tented ceilings with thousands of fresh white flowers including masses of white orchids flown in from Thailand. Christy had already seen the six-foot-high wedding cake, which dominated the twenty-foot-long Georgian dining room table. Obviously the happy couple were to cut the cake in the house. She hoped to be long gone by then. Why hadn’t the cattle baron thrown her out? He was a strange perverse man.
Instead he made her eat something. “Go on,” he urged. “Everyone is looking at you. Isn’t that too priceless? Of course you’re the most beautiful woman here, though I expect you still want to change places with Callista?”
She was aghast at his little cruelties. “What a pig you are. Cochon!”
“But of course you speak French,” he joked. “Anyway I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.”