Читать книгу Mills & Boon Modern Romance Collection: February 2015 - Кэрол Мортимер, Кэрол Мортимер - Страница 13

CHAPTER FOUR

‘JUST SMILE AND leave the talking to me,’ Darius advised Andy softly on Saturday evening as the two of them moved steadily down the greeting line with the other glamorously clothed and bejewelled guests arriving at the London Midas Hotel for the charity dinner.

‘Is that all your women are usually required to do?’ Andy responded with brittle sweetness.

He raised dark brows. ‘I’m going to ignore that remark, and put it down to nervousness on your part.’

Andy was nervous. And that nervousness was increasing the closer they came to where Darius’s mother and stepfather, and presumably other members of the charity’s committee, were personally greeting all the guests as they arrived.

She had spent most of the last forty-eight hours having second, third and fourth thoughts about the wisdom of seeing Darius again, when she so obviously had such a visceral response to him.

It was an uncharacteristic physical response, to any man, let alone one as dangerous as she considered Darius to be.

And considering her lack of experience in regard to men, she should probably have just dipped her toes gently in the water first, rather than jumping straight into the shark tank.

Especially when Darius was looking so tall, dark, and elegantly intimidating this evening, in his perfectly tailored black dinner jacket.

So much so that he had taken Andy’s breath away when she’d opened the door of her apartment to him earlier.

Once again she had forgotten, or tried to forget in the last couple of days, just how immediate he was; so tall that he towered over her, his shoulders so broad they almost filled the doorway, his hair shorter than when she had last seen him, but still as tousled, as if he had been running his hands through it earlier.

Perhaps an indication that he was as nervous about seeing her again this evening as she was about seeing him?

Although Andy somehow doubted that!

Darius was always supremely confident, of himself, and other people’s reaction to him.

Andy had hoped she hadn’t given any indication of her nervousness earlier at her apartment as she’d calmly collected her jacket and clutch bag before following him outside, her fingers shaking slightly as she locked the door behind her.

The luxury car parked outside was a bit of a shock, but Andy felt she had behaved with poise when Darius had opened the door for her to get in before closing the door and moving round the car to sit behind the wheel.

She had also been quite proud of the fact that she had managed to keep up a light, impersonal conversation on the drive to the hotel. Despite the fact that she was so totally aware of the man seated beside her; of the lean strength of Darius’s body, and the heady smell of healthy male and a lemon-based cologne.

But now that she was actually at the hotel where the charity dinner was being held, surrounded by the laughing and chattering rich and the famous, Andy knew she should have given more thought to how she was going to feel when she got here, rather than just focusing on seeing and being with Darius again,

Once upon a time she had occasionally stepped onto the edge of this glamorous world, when she had attended several of the after-gala performances of the ballet company. But she’d had a role on those occasions. A purpose. She had been an ambassador for the ballet company, rather than herself.

Here and now, Andy was merely an adjunct of Darius Sterne, and as such she was very aware of the curious glances that had come their way since they first entered the hotel together.

As aware as she was of the hand that Darius had placed possessively against her spine as they’d entered the hotel.

She was so aware that she was now able to feel the warmth of Darius’s splayed fingers through the thin material of her black gown.

Andy had debated long and hard about what to wear this evening, and had gone through the contents of her wardrobe several times. She’d finally decided on a simple long black Grecian-style gown she had owned before the accident, but it was so classical in style it was dateless.

The gown left her arms and one of her shoulders bare, falling smoothly all the way to her ankles, the slit on the right side only going as far as her knee, and ensuring that the scars on her thigh wouldn’t be visible even when she sat down. A requirement of all the clothes Andy had worn since the accident.

In keeping with the style of the gown, she had secured her hair loosely on her crown, leaving soft curls to cascade down onto her nape. Her make-up was light, just some dark shadow and mascara, and a deep peach lip gloss.

Andy had felt pleased with her appearance when she’d studied her reflection in the mirror before Darius arrived at her apartment. Here, amongst all these glamorous and beautiful women—several of whom were eyeing Darius as if they would like to devour him rather than the forthcoming dinner!—she felt less confident.

‘I wouldn’t have needed to be nervous at all if you hadn’t used emotional blackmail to force me into coming here with you.’ Andy made her point cuttingly.

Darius gave a humourless smile. ‘Are you going to keep throwing that in my face all evening?’

‘You can depend on it!’ Her eyes flashed.

He gave an unconcerned shrug. ‘I use whatever means I deem necessary at the time.’

‘In order to get your own way.’

‘Yes,’ he confirmed unapologetically.

‘Will your brother be here too this evening?’ Andy decided to change the subject before the two of them ended up having a heated argument in front of all the other guests! Well, it would be heated on her part. Darius gave the impression that not too much penetrated that cool shield he kept about his emotions.

A façade that was instantly shattered as Darius looked down at her between narrowed lids. ‘Why?’

‘No particular reason.’ She frowned at his sudden aggression. ‘I was just changing the conversation to something less controversial.’

And Darius was just behaving like a jealous fool, he realised belatedly. Miranda had asked a perfectly polite question about his brother, and he had reacted like a Neanderthal.

Maybe it was the fact that she looked so stunningly beautiful tonight. Her figure-hugging gown was simply cut in comparison with the evening gowns worn by the other women present this evening, and styled in such a way that Darius could see she wasn’t wearing a bra. She wore no jewellery at all, and very little make-up. The whole effect gave her the elegance of a swan in a roomful of peacocks.

Several male heads had turned Miranda’s way when they’d entered the hotel together. Several of those men had continued to watch her covetously, until Darius had given each and every one of them a challenging glare.

To Miranda’s credit she seemed totally unaware of that male interest.

As she seemed totally unaware of her own beauty.

Which was a novelty in itself.

Darius had never yet met a beautiful woman who wasn’t totally aware of her own attractiveness, and what it could get her.

‘I’m sure Xander will already be in the room somewhere,’ he confirmed abruptly. ‘Unlike me, he tries to cater to my mother’s dislike of tardiness.’

Miranda gazed up at him curiously. ‘One day you really will have to tell me what the problem is between you and your mother—’ She stopped abruptly, a blush colouring her cheeks, because she had realised as soon as she said it that her mention of ‘one day’ implied she thought the two of them would be meeting again after this evening.

Darius smiled humourlessly. ‘Oh, I really won’t, angel,’ he drawled dismissively.

‘No. Well. Perhaps not,’ Andy accepted awkwardly, the warmth having deepened in her cheeks at Darius’s endearment. Unless he called all of his women angel? It would certainly save him any embarrassment if he forgot which woman he was spending the evening or night with.

Darius eyed her curiously. ‘Did you tell your sister and brother-in-law that you were coming out with me this evening? Obviously not,’ he drawled dryly as a guilty blush deepened the colour in Andy’s cheeks.

‘I couldn’t think of an acceptable way to explain why the two of us had even met again, let alone that we were going out together,’ she answered impatiently.

If she had even told Kim that Darius had visited her at her dance studio on Thursday, then heZr sister would have launched into yet another major big-sister lecture.

If Kim knew Darius had actually blackmailed Andy into going out with him this evening, and used Colin’s continued employment for Midas Enterprises as leverage, then Andy had absolutely no doubts her sister wouldn’t have hesitated in stating that Darius could do whatever the hell he pleased in that regard, because Andy wasn’t going anywhere with him. Tonight or ever!

That was the excuse Andy gave herself for remaining silent on the subject, at least.

‘You certainly wouldn’t have come out of that explanation in a very good light,’ Andy assured Darius.

He raised dark brows. ‘And do you somehow have the mistaken idea that would actually have bothered me?’

‘Obviously not,’ she snapped her impatience. Honestly, what was wrong with this man? She had done as he’d asked, and come out to this dinner with him, so why was he now being so aggressive? ‘Do you usually bring a date to one of these dinners?’ She decided to attack rather than keep being put on the defensive. As she so often was where Darius was concerned.

But also because she knew, in her heart of hearts, that Kim would have been right to warn her off the man.

Being here with Darius was dangerous. He was dangerous to the ordered life Andy had painstakingly Zcarved out for herself these past four years.

Darius grimaced at her question. ‘Never.’

Her eyes widened. ‘Seriously?’

He gave a half-smile. ‘Seriously.’

Oh, wonderful! Not only was she here with the most impressively handsome man in the room, and about to be introduced to his parents, but now she learnt that Darius usually attended these functions alone.

No wonder so many of the other guests, most especially the women, had stared at the two of them when they arrived. And were still staring at them.

Andy eyed him impatiently. ‘Why now?’

‘Wrong question, Miranda,’ Darius bent to murmur huskily against her ear as they approached the front of the line. ‘The question should have been, Why you? Not, “Why now?”’ he supplied huskily as Andy gave him a questioning glance.

Indeed, why her? Andy wondered dazedly—a question she was prevented from asking out loud as they finally stepped forward to be greeted by his parents.

‘Miranda, Catherine and Charles Latimer,’ Darius introduced with terse economy. ‘Mother, Charles, this is Miranda Jacobs.’ The last was accompanied by a challenging look at the older couple.

Catherine seemed momentarily disconcerted as her frowning gaze moved quickly to Miranda and then back at Darius. ‘I wasn’t aware you had purchased a second ticket for this evening.’

He raised dark, challenging brows. ‘And I wasn’t aware I needed your permission to do so.’

‘Lovely to meet you, my dear.’ Charles Latimer stepped into the awkward breach between mother and son, as if it was a habit of long standing. He was a white-haired and still handsome man. ‘And so good of you to come along and support such a worthwhile charity.’

‘Oh. Yes. Very kind of you.’ Catherine belatedly remembered her manners, her smile tense as she offered her hand.

It was impossible for Andy not to be aware of the tension between mother and son. A tension that now seemed to include her.

‘Mrs Latimer,’ she returned lightly as the two women briefly shook hands. ‘I hope it’s a successful evening for you.’

‘I hope so too.’ Up close, it was impossible to miss the fine lines beside Catherine Latimer’s eyes and mouth, as indication of her age, but she was nevertheless still a very beautiful woman, very slender and chic in her black designer-label evening gown; she certainly didn’t look old enough to be the mother of thirty-something twins.

‘Is Xander here?’ Darius enquired abruptly.

‘Not yet.’ Catherine Latimer frowned. ‘It’s most unlike him to be late, I do hope nothing has happened to him,’ she added with concern.

Darius’s mouth twisted derisively. ‘He’s a big boy now, Mother. I’m sure he’ll find his way here eventually.’ He didn’t wait for a response from either of the older couple, his expression grim as he placed a hand beneath Andy’s elbow before turning her and walking away and into the crowd.

‘That was incredibly rude of you,’ Andy muttered once they were out of earshot of the older couple.

Darius gave another unconcerned shrug. ‘I thought you would have realised by now; I’m an incredibly rude man.’

No, actually, he wasn’t.

Arrogant? Yes. Overbearing? Certainly. Blunt? Disconcertingly so. Ruthless, even—Darius’s threats regarding Colin’s job in order to force Andy into coming here with him this evening certainly came under the latter category! But Andy had never thought of Darius as being particularly rude.

Until he spoke of or to his mother.

There was definitely a story there. One which Darius had made it clear he had no intention of confiding in Andy. Because he wasn’t a man who confided in anyone except perhaps his twin brother? Andy recalled that the brothers had arrived at the restaurant together last week, and they had been in business together for twelve years, so it was probably safe to assume they at least liked each other and got along.

‘Is there some reason why your mother should be worried about Xander’s lateness?’ she prompted slowly.

Darius looked down at her coolly. ‘None at all—apart from the fact that she’s overprotective of him to the point of obsession.’

An image of Darius’s twin instantly came to mind: the golden-haired god with laughter in his dark eyes. ‘Does she have reason to believe he’s in need of protection?’

Darius breathed his impatience. ‘You seem overly concerned with the non-appearance of my brother.’

Andy frowned at the accusation. ‘Not in the least.’

‘No?’

‘No!’

Andy decided, with Darius looking so grimly unappreciative of this subject, that it might be best to talk of something less controversial.

‘What I am curious to know is just how much the tickets cost for this dinner.’

There must be at least five hundred people in this crowded ballroom, all of them dressed in glamorous evening wear; the men all looked very distinguished in their black dinner suits, and the array of ladies’ ballgowns was exquisite. Andy was in danger of being blinded by the amount of jewellery glittering beneath the crystal chandeliers.

Darius took two glasses of champagne from one of the circulating waiters before handing one to Andy. ‘Does it matter?’

‘Only if it would be a complete waste of my time offering to pay for my own ticket!’

‘It would,’ Darius confirmed dryly.

‘Oh.’ She grimaced before taking a sip of her champagne; she knew that the tickets for some of these charity events cost in the thousands of pounds rather than the hundreds. And this evening looked to be one of the former.

‘Not only would it be a waste of your time from a financial angle,’ Darius continued dismissively, ‘but also totally unacceptable. I was the one who invited you this evening; I doubt you would have come here of your own volition!’

Andy gave him a pointed glance. ‘We both know that I didn’t.’

He sighed heavily. ‘You really meant it when you said you aren’t going to let that go, didn’t you?’

‘I really did,’ she confirmed dryly. ‘Do you think—?’

‘Andy, is that you? My goodness, it is you!’

Andy had been so sure that she wouldn’t know anyone else here this evening, and she now turned to look blankly at the woman who had just greeted her so enthusiastically. She looked at a tall and willowy brunette, dressed in a red sequinned dress that finished at least six inches above her shapely knees.

She was exactly the type of woman, tall and brunette, Andy had seen Darius photographed with so much in the past.

The woman had now moved forward to clasp one of Andy’s hands in her own red-tipped ones, a smile tilting the edges of perfectly painted red lips. A smile that didn’t reach the coldness of her blue eyes.

Andy’s heart had sunk as she’d recognised Tia Bellamy, a member of the ballet company she had also belonged to so briefly four years ago. Tia was two years older than Andy, and had never been a particular friend of hers. She certainly hadn’t been this friendly when the two of them worked together all those years ago.

‘Tia,’ she greeted stiffly, even as she removed her hand from the older woman’s cooler one. ‘How are you?’

Tia’s smile widened. ‘I’m currently in rehearsal for the lead in Giselle,’ she announced with satisfaction, her gaze triumphant as she looked at Andy.

‘Congratulations.’ The smile remained fixed on Andy’s face; she might have distanced herself from her previous life in ballet, but even she knew that during this past four years Tia had risen to the heights in the ballet company that she had always dreamed of reaching, that the other woman was now the company’s principal dancer.

‘You’re looking absolutely marvellous,’ Tia gushed insincerely. ‘But you always did look good in this gown.’ She gave Andy’s ankle-length gown a knowing glance. ‘Of course, I don’t suppose you have any choice nowadays but to wear gowns that reach down to your ankles.’

Yes, Tia was still every bit as catty and competitive as she had always been; Andy had worn this gown once when they had known each other four years ago. Once!

And trust Tia to bring up the accident so quickly.

‘Someone...I can’t remember who...mentioned that you had opened a little dance studio or something now that you can no longer dance yourself,’ Tia continued offhandedly.

‘Yes,’ Andy confirmed stiffly, not absolutely sure why she was even continuing this conversation when what she really wanted to do was just walk away—before she said something both women would regret.

‘And is that going well for you?’ Tia prompted with a continued lack of interest.

‘Very well, thank you,’ Andy answered abruptly.

‘I’m so glad!’ Tia dismissed in a bored voice before she turned to look up at Darius with flirtatious and covetous blue eyes. ‘Aren’t you going to introduce me, Andy?’

Given a choice, the answer to that question would be a resounding no. Andy had no interest in introducing Tia to Darius. She had no interest in Tia, full stop. As the other woman had made it obvious she had no interest in her either.

It was more than obvious, from the way Tia was now eyeing Darius, that meeting him was the real reason she had bothered to speak to Andy at all.

‘Tia Bellamy...Darius Sterne.’ Andy introduced him as abruptly as Darius had introduced her to his parents earlier.

‘Mr Sterne, it’s such a pleasure to meet you!’ Tia purred throatily, her eagerness showing that she had known exactly who he was from the outset.

It had become obvious to Darius, from listening to their conversation, that the two women had once danced professionally together. That Tia Bellamy still danced.

It was also obvious that Ms Bellamy was being incredibly rude and hurtful for reminding Miranda so openly that she no longer could.

Just as it was also obvious, from the stiffness of Miranda’s demeanour, the pallor of her cheeks, and the slight trembling of the hand that held her champagne glass, that this unexpected meeting with Tia Bellamy was not a welcome one for her.

Nor did Darius particularly care for the way in which the brunette was now eyeing him as if he were a particularly tasty snack. Not that it was the first time he had been ogled in this way—far from it; his wealth had always been more than enough incentive to produce this sort of reaction from a certain type of woman. But he considered it to be in exceedingly bad taste, when he was so obviously here with Miranda, and Tia Bellamy was pretending to be her friend.

A pretence he could only assume had to be for his benefit rather than anyone else’s.

Because any real friend of Miranda’s wouldn’t have instantly boasted of dancing the lead in Giselle. Nor would they have asked so condescendingly about the dance studio Miranda had opened now that she was no longer able to dance professionally.

He was also curious to know what the other woman had meant when she commented that Miranda had no choice but to wear gowns down to her ankles nowadays. What the hell did Tia Bellamy mean by that? Did Miranda actually have lasting physical scars from her accident four years ago, rather than just the emotional ones?

‘Ms Bellamy.’ Darius nodded tersely as he ignored the hand she held out to him and instead placed his free arm about the slenderness of Miranda’s waist, a frown appearing between his eyes as he instantly felt the trembling of her body. He wasn’t sure whether it was from anger or because she was upset. ‘Please don’t let us keep you from your date any longer,’ he added dismissively, with a pointed glance at the middle-aged man hovering in the background.

‘Oh, that’s just Johnny—Lord John Smythe, you know—not my husband.’ She turned to give the waiting man a sugary sweet smile. ‘He’s rather sweet, and he will keep proposing, but I certainly have no intention of accepting.’ She gave Darius a flirtatiously coy smile that implied she would definitely accept a proposal from him.

Any proposal he cared to make.

An invitation Darius wouldn’t have accepted even if he hadn’t disliked the way she spoke to Miranda; Tia Bellamy was just like all those other beautiful women who saw him as nothing more than a wealthy meal ticket. ‘You’ll have to excuse us, Miss Bellamy, my brother has just arrived. Ready, angel?’ His voice softened huskily as he looked down at Miranda.

She had been staring at Tia Bellamy as if mesmerised—or repelled?—and Darius now felt the shudder that ran through her body as she pulled herself together with effort.

‘So nice to have seen you again, Tia.’ Miranda’s tone was as stiltedly polite as the other woman’s had been falsely warm. ‘If you’ll excuse us?’

Darius’s arm remained firmly about Miranda’s waist as the two of them walked away. ‘I take it there’s some sort of history between the two of you?’ he prompted gently once they were safely out of earshot of the other woman.

Andy drew in a shuddering breath, knowing that Darius was far too astute, too intelligent, not to have picked up on her tension as she’d forced herself to speak to the blasted woman.

Her first evening out in forever, and she had to meet the one woman she had hoped never to set eyes on again!

Not that she had thought for a moment that it had been an accidental meeting; Tia had made it obvious that she had deliberately made a point of seeking her out to get to Darius.

‘Something like that,’ Andy answered Darius dismissively.

‘Care to talk about it?’

‘No. I thought you said we were going to say hello to your brother,’ she prompted in alarm as Darius took the champagne glass out of her hand and placed it with his own on a table, his arm about her waist anchoring her firmly to his side as he guided her out of the crowded and noisy ballroom, before striding purposefully down the hallway and then turning left down a deserted corridor of closed doors.

He didn’t answer her as he stopped to open several of those doors before pushing one open into what turned out to be a small—and empty—conference room. He pushed Andy inside and closed the door behind them, instantly shutting out all other noise but the sound of the two of them breathing.

‘I lied about seeing Xander,’ Darius finally murmured as he leant back against the closed door, arms crossed in front of his chest, his gaze fixed on Andy intently as he effectively blocked her exit.

Andy’s eyes widened. ‘You seem to do that a lot.’

‘On the contrary, I’m usually brutally honest.’ He smiled.

But his smile held no warmth. ‘Exactly who is Tia Bellamy, and why did meeting her again upset you so much?’

Well, that was certainly brutally honest enough, Andy acknowledged ruefully. Even if she had no intention of satisfying Darius’s curiosity. ‘We really should go back and join the other guests in the ballroom.’

‘We really shouldn’t,’ Darius murmured huskily as he moved away from the door. ‘Not until you’ve answered my question,’ he added grimly.

‘Which one?’ She raised her chin challengingly.

His eyes glittered down at her just as determinedly as Darius shrugged. ‘I believe they were one and the same question.’

‘No, they weren’t.’ Andy sighed as she turned away to stand nearer the conference table, having known by the stubborn set of Darius’s jaw that she wasn’t about to escape this room until he was ready for the two of them to leave. ‘Obviously Tia is a ballet dancer,’ she dismissed. ‘I’m surprised you haven’t heard of her?’ Andy had avoided looking at any newspaper articles or other ballet gossip since the accident, but even she knew that Tia was now one of England’s prima ballerinas.

As she had once hoped to be.

‘Business pressures mean I haven’t had time to go to the ballet for years,’ Darius dismissed. ‘Now tell me why seeing her again upset you so much,’ he insisted determinedly.

Andy shrugged as she turned away from his probing gaze. ‘Surely it’s only natural for me to be a little upset at seeing one of my old colleagues, and to be reminded of—of the fact that I’ll never dance professionally again?’

‘Now tell me the real reason.’

Andy knew, from how close Darius’s voice was, and from the way his breath ruffled the soft downy hair at her nape, that he had crossed the room and was now standing just behind her.

So close to her, in fact, that Andy could feel the warmth of his body through the material of her gown, his unique and intoxicating smell—warm, virile male and that lemon-based cologne—invading her senses.

‘Talk to me,’ he prompted huskily.

Andy gave a shake of her head, in an effort to stop herself from falling any deeper under Darius’s seductive spell.

‘Tell me the real reason seeing Tia Bellamy upset you.’ His voice had hardened.

She tensed. ‘I already have.’

‘No.’

‘Yes.’

Andy realised it had been a mistake to turn and face Darius as she suddenly found herself pressed flush against the hardness of his body as he easily pulled her into his arms.

A move she attempted to resist at first, only to capitulate with a sigh, and rest her head against the solidity of his shoulder, when Darius simply refused to release her but instead tightened his arms about her in order to prevent her escape.

‘Tell me,’ he encouraged gruffly as he rested his cheek lightly against her hair.

That was something Andy couldn’t do. Something she would never tell anyone ever again. She had tried four years ago to tell people what she thought had really happened the night she went tumbling down off the stage, smashing her right hip and thigh bone and effectively ending her ballet career. No one had believed her. No one had wanted to believe her.

In the end Andy hadn’t been sure that she believed it herself either.

Admittedly Tia had been her understudy for the Odette/Odile role in Swan Lake, and had immediately taken over after Andy’s accident, but she couldn’t really have pushed Andy deliberately, in order to achieve that ambition. Could she?

Andy had convinced herself in the months of surgery and convalescence that had followed her accident that the events of that night must all have become muddled in her mind. That it had been the initial pain, and then the strong drugs they had given her to dull that pain, that had caused some sort of delirium, resulting in the weird dreams she had just thought were real when she woke up.

Tia’s almost triumphant air this evening, when she’d announced she was rehearsing for the lead in Giselle, her condescension about the way Andy looked and was dressed this evening, her pitying glances when she mentioned Andy’s dance studio, now caused Andy to once again question her memories of that night four years ago.