The Chatsfield: Series 2. Кейт Хьюит
long diamond comb.
Make-up was subtle and enhanced her features. Her cheekbones stood out, and her mouth looked even bigger than usual. She wanted to scowl at the reflection in the bathroom mirror as she inspected herself, but in truth she felt a funny catch in her throat at the thought of Gianni seeing her like this, as if she was meeting him for the first time all over again.
‘Keelin?’
Speak of the devil. Her heart thumped hard and she took a deep breath, cursing the fact that she’d allowed herself to get distracted enough not to analyse what had been said earlier and figure out what her next step would be.
She heard Gianni come closer. ‘Keelin, so help me, if you’re not here and ready—’
He appeared in the doorway of the master bedroom en suite and stopped talking, those dark eyes raking her from head to toe. Heat climbed up over Keelin’s chest to her neck and face.
She registered how gorgeous he was in his tuxedo, clean jaw, hair short. Suddenly there was no air; her skin felt tight and hot. Terrified he might see her reaction she moved forward and pushed past him. ‘I am here.’
When she was on the other side of him the hardness of his body registered on her brain with a searing flash of heat. She stalked out into the main living area, desperate to put some space between them, sucking in a deep breath. When she turned around again, Gianni had followed her and was leaning against the door frame, hands in pockets, eyes hooded and unreadable.
Keelin’s hands clutched the bag that went with the dress. She wanted to squirm; no man had ever looked at her so intently.
‘Well, well, well,’ he drawled softly. ‘I knew there was a gem hiding underneath all that artifice.’
Keelin was about to say something waspish but Gianni added, ‘But I had no idea how beautiful that gem would be.’
For a moment she felt stunned. Even though he’d kissed her, somehow this felt more intimate, as if he was stroking his tongue along hers all over again, that hard mouth demanding she give up her softness to him. Demanding she expose all her weaknesses and vulnerabilities.
At a loss as to how to respond, and feeling gauche when she recalled how she’d noticed he hadn’t complimented her the previous evening, Keelin just said, ‘Save your breath for the woman who’ll become your fiancée for real some day. She’ll be far more appreciative.’
Gianni stood away from the door and came towards her. Keelin’s feet were glued to the floor. He stopped far too close and answered, ‘Cara, you’re the only fiancée I’m ever going to have, so you might as well give in to the inevitable—unless you’re willing to walk out that door right now, we will be getting married in two weeks.’
The fact that Keelin couldn’t seem to find the urge to walk away from Gianni now that she had the opportunity was not as annoying as the suspicion that it had less to do with her father’s ultimatum and intransigence and more to do with the fact that something enigmatic in his black gaze held her to the spot.
An hour later Keelin’s feet burned in her high heels. She was in a sleek and sophisticated private suite at the Harrington Hotel surrounded by beautiful and equally sleek people with white besuited waiters moving through the crowd carrying trays of sparkling champagne, and yet all she could see were the women openly lusting after Gianni, and sending her less than friendly glances. She felt like saying to them, Take him! while alternately battling a very curious urge to gouge their eyes out.
He bent close and said by her ear in his deep voice, ‘Your parents are here.’ Instantly she tensed all over, an inevitable reaction, her hand tightening on her glass of champagne. The drink she’d not even touched. No point in pretending she liked it any more.
She barely noticed Gianni sending her an assessing sidelong glance as her mother came forward with arms outstretched to envelop Keelin in a stiff hug and a noxious wave of perfume. Keelin couldn’t help tensing even more. She’d learnt long ago that these rare displays of affection were for appearances only, never to be repeated in private.
Her father gave her a kiss on the cheek. Equally awkward. Keelin felt old emotions rise—a mix of anger, disappointment and frustration, and swallowed it down with effort.
Her mother was oblivious, beaming at Gianni and gushing, ‘So pleased to meet you, Mr Delucca. Liam’s told me all about you. You’ll take care of our beloved Keelin, now won’t you?’
He was oozing charm as they shook hands. ‘Call me Gianni, please.’
Beloved Keelin. It had been the wrong moment to take a reflexive sip of her drink; it promptly went down the wrong way and Keelin had a coughing fit, earning a familiar look of irritation from her mother and a hand on her bare upper back from Gianni which was far more disturbing. Keelin wasn’t someone who felt comfortable around tactile people but whenever Gianni touched her she felt the disturbing urge to close her eyes and purr gently.
‘Okay, cara?’
His careless endearment sent shivers through her. She nodded and blinked quickly and croaked, ‘Fine.’
His fingers spread out now, just above the bodice of the dress, and his touch became more caressing. The kind of touch anyone might expect of a man to his fiancée.
But there was something else in it too; as she stood there by Gianni’s side and faced her parents she had the bizarre sense for the first time in her life of not standing alone against them. Which was crazy because Gianni only wanted this marriage as a business deal; he wasn’t genuinely interested in the kind of support that should come with a real marriage.
That galvanised her to move subtly away from his touch and she hated how she felt bereft when his hand dropped. She sent him a dark look for having this effect on her but he merely raised a brow in return. Completely bemused.
An arm went through hers. ‘Darling, let’s let the men talk boring work and tell me all about your plans for the wedding.’
Keelin blinked at her mother before letting herself be led away, fuming inwardly at the implication that she couldn’t be part of that conversation. And as if for all the world this was a genuine wedding and she and Gianni were some sort of besotted couple. She said acerbically, ‘Don’t you mean discuss the plans for this business arrangement?’
Her mother darted a glance around and then pulled Keelin into a secluded corner. Gone was any attempt to feign affection and the truth was visible of an attractive woman who was ageing and not happy about the process or the fact that her daughter was far more beautiful than she’d ever been.
‘What is wrong with you? That man is young, handsome and rich. You could do a lot worse, you know.’ Her mother sounded almost peevish.
Keelin sighed inwardly. That was all her mother understood—the currency of a rich husband and being socially acceptable. After all, she’d made it her life’s work, especially when she hadn’t been able to have more children after Keelin, which she’d borne a totally irrational sense of guilt about for as long as she could remember.
Keelin valiantly pushed aside old wounds. ‘You mean worse than have a chance to work for the family business and be independent?’
Her mother all but snorted. ‘Darling, I’ve never understood this obsession you have, and why work when you don’t have to?’
Her darker green eyes narrowed on her daughter. ‘I really hope you’re not going to be difficult about this. Your father will be very angry—’
Keelin cut her off crisply. ‘Don’t worry, I’ve already been told what’ll happen if I walk away.’
Dolores O’Connor didn’t even have the grace to look remotely concerned or guilty. ‘Most girls would give their eye teeth to be in your position.’
Keelin felt a prickling sensation on the back of her neck just before an arm slid around her waist and a large hot body came alongside hers. Once again she had