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 now I’m hardly in the mood to play dating games,” Connor growled.
“You’ll get over it.” Michael nosed the Toyota onto the road that ran past the front of the church. “We’ll find someone to kiss your broken heart better at the wedding tomorrow.”
Connor gave him a baleful glare. “My heart isn’t broken.”
“No,” Michael agreed. “It’s your pride that’s battered.”
“Thanks, mate, I really needed to hear that!”
Michael was still laughing as they pulled up in front of the church gate where the bride and her maid of honor waited.
Despite Suzy’s blonde prettiness, Connor found his gaze drawn to her friend. A patina of reserve clung to her. There was not a hint of feminine flounce in the straight black skirt, black stockings or the tailored white shirt. Yet when she moved toward the car, she carried herself with an easy, swinging grace that contrasted sharply with her coolly composed features.
“Best therapy right now would be another woman. Victoria—”
“No.” Connor looked away from the termagant and directed a stony stare at Michael. “I definitely don’t need another hard-boiled career woman with her eye on the main chance. So don’t try any matchmaking tonight or you’ll be looking for a new best man for your wedding tomorrow.”
Chapter Two
Connor barely noticed the radiant beauty of the stained-glass window backlit by the afternoon sun. Or how the kaleidoscopic light fell onto the faces of bride and groom, giving them an otherworldly quality. Instead he stood stiffly next to her behind the bridal pair as they exchanged vows, Michael’s voice deep and serious, Suzy sounding much breathier.
His anger at her had driven away his annoyance that Michael had dared to discuss Connor’s abortive personal affairs with Suzy. He couldn’t bear the thought of being pitied by anyone.
Although he could hardly accuse her of pitying him.
Unwillingly Connor slanted a sideways look at the maid of honor. He’d planned to ignore her today. She’d said little at dinner last night. Despite his threats to Michael, his and Suzy’s matchmaking efforts had been irritatingly obvious, and Connor had no intention of giving the argumentative woman any encouragement. The next woman he dated would be pure entertainment … no strings and plenty of hot sex. Not another high-flyer married to her career.
Her pallor last night had suggested she’d be more prone to headaches than hot sex. So had her attitude—she’d excused herself just after eleven, pleading exhaustion, but when he’d offered her a ride home she’d given him a look that suggested she’d rather eat slugs, and insisted on calling a taxi.
He had to admit she looked much better today. Suzy’s doing, no doubt. He almost hadn’t recognized her at the church door. Only her height—she was tall, her head coming up to his chin—her slender body and those wary hazel eyes had identified her.
Yet she was impossible to ignore.
Yesterday’s rumpled white shirt and black sacklike skirt had given way to an ultrafeminine dress of some pale, gauzy fabric that turned what he could see of her skin to the delicious luminescence of pearl. She’d done something different with her hair, too, twisting the dark strands up so it exposed the soft, pale skin of her neck, and a couple of loose tendrils brushed the slope of her shoulders.
And all that bare, feminine skin tempted him to touch, to stroke.
What the hell was he thinking? One week without a woman to call his own and even this plain, uptight female was starting to look attractive.
Despite Michael’s advice, the last thing he needed in his life was a woman. Even if he did, this one didn’t qualify—she was way too intense. And, as Suzy’s best friend, too complicated.
A hush fell over the church and he turned his head to watch Michael slip a plain gold band onto Suzy’s finger. There was a moment where the world seemed to hold its breath, and Michael looked positively bewitched.
Connor let out the breath he was holding.
He should’ve advised Michael on the wedding band. Women liked diamonds. Dana would’ve demanded a humdinger—for investment purposes of course. Michael should at least have had a row of diamonds channel set.
The priest was giving Michael permission to kiss the bride. Connor blanked out the sighs from the congregation and his awareness of the woman standing beside him, and found himself hoping Suzy would be more trustworthy than Dana had been.
Then, thankfully, the service was over. As they filed out of the church Connor pulled out his BlackBerry and made a note to himself about a meeting with a Realtor to look at new offices that he’d remembered he was supposed to attend on Monday.
The maid of honor—he really should remember her name—was glaring at him. Guiltily he stuck the BlackBerry back in his pocket.
“Wait,” she ordered as he headed for the stairs. “Michael and Suzy will want a photo at the church door.”
Violet? Was that her name? “There’s a wedding photographer to do that.” He gestured to where the man stood. “I didn’t bring a camera.”
“They might want us to be in the photo with them. We should smile. Look happy.”
“Sure.”
She shot him a narrow look; clearly she hadn’t missed his sarcasm. Not Violet, but it had been something equally old-fashioned. Edith? No, that wasn’t right, either.
He was saved from the need to reply by Michael and Suzy’s emergence from the church, their faces alight with what even he could recognize was joy. Envy speared him. Then he suppressed it. He was done with love and romance … from now on his relationships would be based purely on sex. No emotion. No tenderness.
That way there would be no betrayal.
The bridal couple paused under the arched church door beneath a flurry of pink-and-white rose petals, and the photographer leapt into action.
The damn woman had been right.
Unbidden, his eyes landed on her. She was smiling, and Connor had to admit it transformed her face. At least she wasn’t gloating. His gaze lingered on her curved lips and he couldn’t help noticing that her mouth was very pretty when it wasn’t screwed up in disapproval.
“Connor, Victoria, over here!” called Suzy.
Victoria. Of course! “We’re being summoned.” He placed a hand under her elbow. Her skin was silky beneath his fingertips. Out of nowhere a totally unexpected surge of lust hit him. Perhaps the wedding reception wouldn’t be such an ordeal after all …
Suzy was beckoning impatiently. “Come on, we need a photo with the two of you.”
“I told you so,” muttered Victoria.
Connor shot her a look of dislike. Okay, so he’d been wrong on two counts. Firstly, the reception was going to be every bit as bad as he’d imagined and, secondly, she had been gloating. She’d simply concealed it under that sweetly deceptive smile.
All desire waned. It didn’t need Michael’s grin—nor the pointed look to Connor’s hand where it rested—for his hand to drop away from her arm.
The further he stayed away from Queen we-are-not-amused Victoria, the better.
On entering the ballroom, Connor discovered—much to his horror—that rather than the two of them flanking the bridal pair, he and Victoria had been seated beside each other.
“Give the two of you a chance to talk, seeing that all my attention will be on my bride,” Michael murmured sotto voce, holding a chair out for Suzy, who glanced up and gave Connor a little wave, her eyes glittering with mischief.
Irritation swarmed through Connor and he glared at the smug groom.
Connor survived the first round of speeches by ignoring Victoria completely, although if he’d been honest he’d have had to admit that the subtly seductive scent she wore didn’t make that easy. By the time he had to propose a toast to the bride and groom he’d downed three glasses of too-sweet wedding wine. When the first notes of the wedding waltz struck up he looked vainly around for a waiter to order a double whiskey.
“Come on,” an unwelcome voice beside him prompted. “We should join them.”
“I’m not dancing,” he said flatly, settling for another glass of sweet champagne with a grimace.
Her gaze landed on the glass and her straight eyebrows drew together in a frown. “Surely you’re not going to use Suzy and Michael’s wedding as an excuse to get drunk?”
Deliberately provocative, he raised the tulip-glass in a mocking toast. “I’m celebrating the love that you believe in.”
“Don’t be so flippant.” Her disapproval deepened. “This is the happiest day of Suzy and Michael’s life and you’re going to ruin it for them if you carry on. And all because you’re too busy feeling sorry for yourself.”
Connor blinked in disbelief. “What did you say?” He couldn’t have heard right. Everyone had been p**syfooting around the subject of Dana and Paul’s affair. Surely she wouldn’t dare …
Their eyes locked. Hers were more green than brown, flashing little flecks of gold. It wasn’t pity he read there but disdain.
He’d heard perfectly. And grew convinced this woman would dare anything.
Anger knotted in his chest.
“Snap out of it. Think of someone except yourself for a change. It’s only a couple more hours.” Her gaze dropped to the glass in front of him. “And I suggest you slow down on the alcohol.”
“I don’t know who you think you are—” he lowered his voice to a lethal rasp “—but you are way out of line.”
“I’m Victoria.” A grim smile accompanied the words. “In case you’ve forgotten, I’m the bride’s best friend—” she emphasized best “—but I don’t understand how Michael can call you a friend at all. I certainly haven’t seen you do anything to deserve it.”
Her words stung. He was on his feet before he could think. “I don’t have to listen to this!”
Startled dismay flitted across her face. She cast a quick glance to where the bride was nestled in the groom’s arms. Michael chose that moment to glance at them over the top of Suzy’s curls. Victoria muttered something that sounded suspiciously like an expletive, pushed her chair back and grabbed his hand.
“Great.” The beaming smile she turned on him transformed her face. “Let’s get dancing.”
Connor stared at her, poleaxed by the wattage of her smile. It made her look almost beautiful.
He blurted out, “You should smile more often,” and in a daze followed her onto the dance floor.
Michael slowed to a shuffle and mouthed, “Everything okay?”
Crap, she was right. Again. He was being selfish. Forcing a smile, Connor gave Michael the thumbs-up.
Everything was great.
Right.
Somehow the maid of honor was in his arms, swaying into the wedding waltz, her dress soft and silky under the hands he hadn’t even realized he’d placed on her waist.
“How did you meet Michael?” she asked, still smiling up at him.
He again noticed how lovely her mouth was and forgot the sheer fury she aroused in him. It was, after all, a very distracting mouth. One taste … it would surely rid his tongue of the aftertaste of that awful champagne.
“We’re members of the same squash club. When our original partners stopped playing—” Paul had preferred the gym “—we were both at a loose end, so we teamed up.” That had been six years ago. Despite seeing his business partner every day of his life, Connor realized Michael had proved to be the better friend. He switched off that train of thought before the bleakness that had hovered over him for the past three days descended again.
No Paul or Dana today.
Not even dreaming up grisly plans for revenge.
“Do you work with Suzy?” he asked, determined to get his mind out of the rut it kept drifting back to. Maybe Michael was right and a date with Victoria would be a good distraction.
The smile faded and her eyes turned cool. “I’m an accountant—Michael told you that, remember?”
“That’s right.” No, a date with Victoria would be a very bad idea. “But should you have reminded me? Isn’t that rude?” He gave her a sharklike smile that held no humor.
“Not as impolite as your evident disinterest—you can’t even remember my name.”
Touché. He took in the flare of rosy color on her cheeks, the sparkle of spirit in her eyes. How had he ever thought she was dreary? “Your name is Victoria. And I can’t think why I thought you were a teacher.”
“Perhaps because I know Suzy?”
No, it was that silent reserve, and the way she didn’t hesitate to correct him. He wasn’t accustomed to that—except from his assistant Iris. And that was different; Iris was a friend of his mother’s and had known him for three decades.