The Wedding-Night Affair. Miranda Lee
now, or Owen would kill her! But come tomorrow she was going to fall mysteriously ill and be unable to take on any new clients.
‘I’ll take Fiona through to the terrace,’ Philip informed his mother.
‘Oh, yes, do,’ she replied. ‘It’s lovely out there today. I won’t be long.’
Kathryn hurried off to do her son’s bidding. Another vast change in the woman’s character. She’d never been sweet and accommodating in the past. She’d expected everyone else to do her bidding.
‘This way,’ Philip murmured, taking Fiona’s elbow rather forcefully and steering her speedily inside, across the spacious marble foyer and down the wide cool hallway which bisected the bottom floor of the house.
Fiona barely had time to scoop in a couple of steadying breaths before she was ushered through a pair of white French doors onto an enormous sun-drenched terrace which stretched the length of the house.
It was an area she’d never been, or seen before. Probably new, she decided.
As Philip directed her towards the closest grouping of outdoor furniture Fiona replaced her sunglasses and glanced around, her wedding co-ordinator’s eye automatically taking over. Kathryn wouldn’t need to book a special place for the reception, she realised. This setting could look magnificent, with the right kind of marquee and the right lighting.
There wasn’t just the one terrace. There were two. The top one conveniently had shelter, with a pergolastyle roof which had slats one could open or shut. The next terrace, much longer and wider than the first, was tiled in terracotta and incorporated a large rectangular swimming pool, lined at each end by Corinthian columns of grey marble. It reminded Fiona of a photograph she’d once seen of a pool in ancient Rome. All that was missing was the nude statues.
At each end of the terraces lay an extensive garden, which was distinctly tropical, full of ferns and palms and rich green shrubs of all kinds. Oddly, it didn’t look out of place, exuding an exotic and sensual pull on the senses, making one long for the warm, balmy evenings of summer.
Fiona could easily envisage a near-naked Philip, stretched out along the edge of the pool, his eyes shut, one hand languidly trailing through the cool blue water. She could almost feel the coolness of that water on her heated skin as she imagined swimming towards him, stopping right next to him, then taking that wickedly idle hand and lifting it to her hot... wet...flesh.
Philip scraping out a chair for her on the flagstones snapped Fiona out of her erotic daydream with the abruptness of a drowning man gasping to the surface. Disorientated for a moment, she found herself staring down at the strong male hands gripping the back of the white wrought-iron chair and remembering how good he was with those hands, how well they had known her body and how completely they had been able to coerce her to his will.
Surely they couldn’t still do that, she thought, then panicked as her body experienced a deep and violent burst of desire.
Self-disgust followed, but a fraction too late in her opinion. Clenching her teeth, Fiona wrenched her eyes away from those offending hands and swiftly sat down. She didn’t watch Philip stride round to select the chair directly opposite, not looking back at him till he was seated.
‘Right,’ he said, his voice cut and dried as he slid his sunglasses back on. ‘Now, let’s stop all this pretence, Noni. What in hell are you up to?’
CHAPTER THREE
‘OH!’ FIONA gasped, sitting up straight. ‘You did recognise me.’
‘Keep it down, for pity’s sake,’ he hissed. ‘I don’t want my mother to hear any of this. And, yes, of course I recognised you. How could you possibly imagine I wouldn’t? I knew it was you the moment I drove up. You weren’t quite quick enough putting on those sunglasses. Still, I can understand why my mother didn’t twig. That’s some make-over, Noni. Most impressive. But back to the point. What are you up to? Why this sick little charade?’
Any momentary elation Fiona had felt at Philip’s having recognised her quickly faded at his sarcastic and accusing tone. She automatically moved back into survival mode.
‘I’m not up to anything,’ she defended coolly. ‘It’s exactly as I said earlier. My business partner made this appointment with your mother without my knowledge. I tried to get out of it. I explained to Owen that you and I had been married briefly years ago, and that I couldn’t possibly do your wedding, but he still insisted I show up today in person. He said the future of Five-Star Weddings was at stake. He wanted me to apologise and recommend him instead, but when Kathryn didn’t recognise me I hesitated too long, and then you showed up unexpectedly and...well...’ She shrugged.
‘Things got even more complicated,’ Philip finished drily.
‘Yes,’ Fiona agreed.
There was a short, sharp silence while he just stared at her.
‘You must have suspected my mother wouldn’t recognise you,’ he said curtly, ‘looking as you look today.’
‘It did briefly cross my mind.’
He laughed. ‘More than briefly, I’ll warrant. So...did you enjoy fooling her? Did you get a kick out of it?’
She contemplated lying, but couldn’t see any point. ‘I thought I would,’ she confessed ruefully.
He frowned. ‘But you didn’t?’
‘No,’ she confessed, still a little confused by her reaction to his mother. ‘No, I didn’t She’s not the same woman I remember, Philip. Somehow, I couldn’t find it in my heart to hold any more malice towards her.’
His frown deepened. ‘What do you mean...malice?’
‘Oh, Philip, don’t pretend you don’t know what she did all those years ago, how she made me feel.’
‘I know she made things difficult for you. But, believe me, she would have made things difficult for any girl I wanted to marry back then. The bottom line is it wasn’t my mother who ended our marriage, Noni. It was you.’
She opened her mouth to defend what she’d done, then stopped herself. Once again, she couldn’t see the point It was over. Philip was getting married again. No doubt to some rich, beautiful girl he loved to death and of whom his mother heartily approved.
As for herself. Well...she had her career.
‘I was very young,’ Fiona said flatly. ‘So were you. We were from two different worlds. Our marriage would never have worked. I did the right thing.’ She looked away from him then, afraid that she might do something appalling like burst into tears.
When she looked back, several seconds later, she was once again under control. ‘What’s done is done,’ she stated brusquely. ‘Let’s not hash over ancient history, Philip. Just tell me what you want me to do about your mother and your wedding.’
He didn’t answer her straight away, considering her at length from behind his sunglasses till her irritation table rose to dangerous levels.
‘Will you be in trouble with your partner if you lose this job?’ he finally asked.
‘Probably,’ she snapped
‘Then do it.’
Fiona automatically shrank from the idea.
‘Come now, Noni, it’s no big deal. It’s not as though we mean anything to each other any more,’ he said dismissively. ‘As you just said, our marriage—such as it was—is ancient history. We don’t have to tell anyone who you really are. I’ve never told Corinne about you, and Mother will never recognise you. On top of that, you’ve been offered double your usual fee. You’d be a fool to knock it back.’
His cold pragmatism put her mind—and her emotions—back on track. He was right, of course. She’d be a fool to say no. And she was no longer a fool, either over money or men.
‘You’ll