Connor dropped the basket filled with hymn books into the trunk next to the black rollaway bag.
The groom’s head came up, and the brown eyes of a man Connor met twice weekly for a killer game of squash grew cool as Michael said with deceptive mildness, “Suzy is going to be my wife, Connor. Watch what you say.”
Connor did a double take. “Wow. You’ve got it bad.” His mouth slanted as Michael tensed. “Steady on, I was talking about the maid of honor.”
“Victoria?” Michael slammed the trunk shut. “She’s been friends with Suzy for decades. In fact—”
The sudden gleam in Michael’s eyes had Connor bringing his hands up in front of him to ward off the inevitable. “Don’t go there—she’s not my type.”
The woman was way too opinionated.
Michael ignored the warning. “Maybe you need a change from blonds. In fact, Suzy and I thought she might be the perfect antidote to Dana.”
Fresh annoyance surged through Connor at the memory of overhearing Suzy telling her friend that he’d been dumped by his girlfriend. And the sympathy in her eyes when she’d said she understood why he was upset.
Upset? Hell, he wasn’t upset. He was damned mad.
Mad at Dana. Mad at Paul Harper. Mad at Michael for divulging a confidence. And mad at the irritating, interfering witch who’d forced an apology out of him.
Breathing deeply, he said, “I gather you told Suzy all about Dana?”
Michael extracted a set of car keys from his pants pocket and activated the remote to unlock the doors. “How could I not? She would’ve found out anyway.”
“My business partner and my girlfriend…and I was the last to know.” Connor tried to laugh as he went around to the passenger side. “Soap opera stuff, huh?”
The raw hurt and betrayal that two days earlier had scorched all the way to his soul resurfaced. He hated the thought of people picking over the details of his devastated life.
“What Paul did was unforgivable.” Michael’s mouth was firm as he settled in the seat beside Connor. “And Dana was more than your girlfriend. The woman’s been living with you for nearly two years. Hell, you even made her a director of Harper-North.”
How Connor regretted Wednesday’s drunken bout of self-pity. He’d been away, laying the groundwork to open Harper-North’s first Australian office. On his return from Sydney, Dana had hit him with the news that their relationship was over. She had a new lover—the man he’d gone to university with, the man he’d founded a business with. His best friend. His former best friend.
Connor had gone to Michael’s house, gotten drunk, and blurted it all out. Dumb.
“The whole world shifted on its axis in the three weeks I was gone.” Connor raked his hands through his hair. It needed a cut. The mundane thought steadied him. “Came back to find my life in uproar and you planning marriage.” He shook his head. “Crazy.”
“Not that crazy. I’ve know Suzy a while, even though we only started dating about a month ago.”
“A month?” Connor raised his brows. “After two years I didn’t know what kind of treachery Dana was capable of. You should’ve taken more time.”
“A month. A year. Two years. It’s not going to make a difference to how I feel about Suzy.”
“So what makes you so sure Suzy isn’t after a lifelong meal ticket?”
A chuckle filled the car. “Mate, I’m not the billionaire here. I don’t wear thousand-dollar suits—” Michael gave Connor’s Armani a mocking inspection “—drive a Maserati, or live in a marble mansion.”
“I don’t live there anymore.”
This week’s showdown came back to haunt Connor. Paul had already moved into his house with Dana. But he’d wring every cent that he could from the pair of them in exchange for the mansion that Dana had craved…and the share of Harper-North that Connor had walked away from. They weren’t going to get off scott-free.
“Sorry.” The laughter faded from Michael’s eyes. “But trust me, Suzy’s not marrying me for money. She’s a teacher, just like me, so our incomes are pretty equal.”
Dana had been trying to wheedle an engagement ring out of Connor for ages. His thoughts came to a grinding halt. Had Suzy tricked Michael into a proposal with the oldest trick in the book?
“What about children?” Connor prodded. Dana had begged for a child. But Connor had resisted. He hadn’t wanted marriage—which he suspected was the real reason for Dana’s desperate desire for a child. A child would’ve been a mistake. They were both too busy for kids, he’d told her.
Michael turned the key in the ignition. His jaw had firmed and his hands gripped the steering wheel.
“I’m not asking if this woman’s already pregnant,” Connor lied hastily as the motor took. “Just wondering if she views you as a father figure for any children she has.” A high school guidance counselor, Michael would make the perfect mark for a solo mother wanting financial and emotional support.
“She doesn’t have any.” The reply was clipped.
“That’s a relief. I was worried she might be a desperate divorcée.” Connor paused as they rolled down a narrow lane lined with clipped hedges that hid the church from view.
“She’s divorced but she’s not desperate.” Michael’s jaw jutted out, a sign of the stubborn streak that usually remained hidden beneath his affable, calm exterior. “You’ll like Suzy, Connor—if you let yourself. There’s no catch.”
Connor stared at Michael’s profile, aware he wasn’t getting anywhere. The strange notion that his orderly life had spun out of control increased. He shook his head. “You’re not listening. There’s always a catch.”
“Of course I’m listening.”
“But?” Something about the set of Michael’s jaw told Connor this was one of the rare times that none of his arguments were going to succeed.
In the years he’d been playing squash with Michael he’d come to value the calm, unconditional friendship they’d forged. Connor often offered Michael financial advice, and only twice had Michael disregarded it. The first time Michael had lost thousands on a development that went belly up. The second time Connor had advised him to steer clear of a derelict Edwardian cottage on a busy road. Michael had wanted to use an unexpected legacy from a great-aunt as a deposit. Connor had warned him the restoration would devour money faster than a hungry loan shark.
But Michael had bought the place anyway and spent every weekend working on it. Connor had taken to dropping by on Sunday afternoons to lend Michael a hand—much to Dana’s disgust—and the manual labor involved in stripping old paintwork and restoring the cottage had proved extremely rewarding. As the house took shape Connor finally admitted he’d been wrong. Despite the exorbitant amount of time and money it consumed, Michael’s home was special.
It had reminded him of the days when he and Paul had first started out, fired by dreams of preserving as many forgotten buildings as they could.
When had they lost that idealism? When had it all become about the next million?
Yet just because Michael had been right about that old place of his didn’t mean this madly rushed marriage would work out, Connor decided as they waited for a break in the traffic.
“But…Suzy’s nothing like Dana.”
Connor bristled at the mention of Dana’s name. “I never said she was.”
Michael threw him a disbelieving look. “Don’t let what Dana did embitter you. I think you’re well rid of her. I never liked her, you know. You deserve someone better.”
“Right