The way he put an arm across Suzy’s shoulders and pulled her close suggested he did. “Victoria, you’re Suzy’s oldest friend, and Connor’s the closest thing I’ve got to a brother. It will be great for the four of us to have dinner together.”
Michael was so nice, Victoria decided. Maybe Suzy hadn’t made a mistake. About to give Michael a grateful smile for setting to rest the doubts that Connor had raised, Victoria paused as she intercepted the glacial look Connor shot Michael.
What was that about?
Yet Michael, bless him, smiled in the face of Connor’s icy disapproval. He clapped a hand on his best man’s shoulder and leant forward to murmur something that caused Connor’s pale eyes to flare with suppressed emotion as he shot Victoria a look of intense dislike.
What had she done to deserve that? The unexpected unease he’d already roused in her coalesced into a hard ball of antipathy.
As Michael went to fetch his car, Suzy added, “After dinner I’m going home—alone.” She winked suggestively at Victoria. “I told Michael it’s unlucky for him to see the bride before the wedding and I’m determined not to do anything that might tip the scales against us.”
“You shouldn’t be getting married if you need superstitious hocus-pocus to make it last,” Connor said from behind them, causing both women to start.
As surprise—followed swiftly by hurt—flashed in Suzy’s eyes, Victoria swung around and saw no levity in the man’s strange eyes.
Outraged that he’d attacked sweet, effervescent Suzy the moment Michael had vanished, she forgot her own reservations about the hasty marriage. Coldly she pointed out, “But Suzy and Michael are getting married. They love each other. And there’s not a thing you can do about it.”
“Love?” Connor’s eyes glittered in the dwindling sunlight and his sharp bark of laughter caused Victoria to bristle defensively. “Is that what women call it?”
“It’s what Michael calls it, too.” A chill enveloped Victoria. She must be mad to challenge this man. “And what gives you the right to sit judgment on what Michael and Suzy feel for each other, anyway?”
He stared down his nose at her. “Love is overrated.”
Hoisting the basket of hymn books to stop them falling, she said, “If you’re that cynical then perhaps you shouldn’t have agreed to be Michael’s best man.”
“Victoria—”
“No, Suzy.” She broke free of the bride-to-be’s restraining arm. “What he said was rude and uncalled for.”
Suzy looked decidedly uncomfortable.
“Can I take those for you?” Connor had the basket before she could object.
“Thanks,” she said ungraciously.
“It looked like you were about to drop them.”
The superior tone annoyed her afresh. Victoria wondered if the hard, handsome man in front of her had ever apologized to anyone. He would, she vowed. “Are you proud of yourself?”
“For helping relieve you of the basket?” He tilted his head sideways. “I suppose I am.”
“That’s not what I mean.” And he knew it. Splaying her hands on her skinny hips, Victoria faced Connor down. She was taller than Suzy by a head, yet Connor still loomed over her. For a moment her resolve wavered; then she stiffened her spine. “Is that what you wanted?” She nodded to Suzy where she stood, her shoulders sagging. “You’re going to ruin her day if you carry on like this.”
There was a long, brooding silence.
“Sorry.” But he didn’t sound sorry in the least.
“That’s the best you can do?” demanded Victoria.
“I accept his apology,” Suzy said quickly. “I understand why he’s upset.”
“I’m not upset,” he growled, and gave Victoria a killing how-dare-you stare before stalking off in Michael’s wake, the basket swinging incongruously at his side.
“Jerk!” Victoria fumed. To her astonishment she found that her hands were trembling. She brushed them over her hair, more to regain her composure than to smooth the style. She was too tired to be tactful. “What does Michael see in the man?”
“Make allowances for him.” Suzy put a hand on her arm. “His girlfriend just dumped him for his business partner. It can’t be a good time for him.”
Victoria gave a derisive laugh. “I don’t blame her one bit. No sane woman could live with a jerk like him.”
“He’s hurting,” Suzy protested.
“Didn’t you hear the way he said ‘love’? Like it was something foreign to him. Connor North feels as much emotion as a slab of granite.”
“Michael says he doesn’t share much, so maybe he did love her. He’s been very good about it, even letting her keep the house.”
“I’m sure she deserved it.”
“Shh.” Suzy’s grip on her arm tightened. “He might hear you.”
“I don’t care.”
“Well, I do. C’mon, Tory, Michael and I were seriously hoping the two of you would become … well … friends.”
Friends with Connor North? Friendship implied affection, warmth and loyalty. Victoria couldn’t imagine Rock-Face ever exhibiting any of those qualities. She stared down at the person who knew her better than anyone in the world and gave a snort of disbelief. “You’re dreaming, Suz.”
Had Michael and Suzy been planning to match-make?
“Okay.” Suzy held up her hands. “I’m not going to argue, so let’s change the subject. I’ve been meaning to ask you, Tory, if you wouldn’t mind popping past the cottage to water the potted plants while we’re on honeymoon. Connor might forget.”
Victoria frowned suspiciously. “What do you mean ‘Connor might forget?’”
“He’s been staying with Michael this past week and the two of them have been working like dogs every evening to get the house all painted inside. And Connor will look after it while we’re on honeymoon—Michael dotes on that house.”
“I suppose I can drop round in my lunch hour—that way I won’t bump into him.” Then Victoria clicked her tongue. “Suzy, you’re not intending to start off your marriage with a houseguest, are you?”
“Oh, no, he’s not the type to be a third wheel—though he’s helped Michael heaps with the house. Michael could never have done as much alone. No, Connor will find a place while we’re on honeymoon. Michael just felt he needed a few days to get over the shock of losing his woman, his home and his business in one shot.”
Victoria steeled herself against a sneaky twinge of sympathy. However hard a time he’d had, it was no reason to attack Suzy. “I’m sure he’ll recover.”
“Please be nice to him, Tory.” Suzy stretched her blue eyes wide. “I don’t want the wedding photos ruined because the maid of honor and best man have a fistfight.”
No sane woman could live with a jerk like him.
Telling himself that the dislike was mutual didn’t stop the maid of honor’s words from rankling as Connor marched across the car park tucked away behind the church hall. He came to a stop where Michael Mason rummaged in the trunk of a modest Toyota parked in the dark shade of two tall pines.
“That woman is a menace.” 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.