A Second Chance For The Millionaire: Rescued by the Brooding Tycoon / Who Wants To Marry a Millionaire? / The Billionaire's Fair Lady. Nicola Marsh
the divorce settlement she’ll eventually claim.’
Darius gave a harsh laugh. ‘Out to marry me? You know nothing. She’s here as my companion, no more. I had to promise to stick to her rules or she wouldn’t have come.’
Amos groaned and abandoned reasoning as useless. ‘How can any son of mine be so naïve? That’s the oldest trick in the book.’
‘She doesn’t go in for tricks,’ Darius said. ‘She’s as honest as the day is long. You have no idea.’
‘You’ve really got it bad, haven’t you?’ Amos said in a voice that verged on contempt.
‘If you mean that I’m in love with her, you’re wrong. Harriet and I are friends. With her I’ve found a kind of friendship I didn’t know existed. I can talk to her without wondering if she’ll make use of the information. She gives far more than she takes, and that’s something I never thought to find in anyone. Try to understand. She’s a revelation. I didn’t know women like her existed, and I’m not going to do anything to spoil it.’
Amos regarded him with pity. ‘A revelation—unlike any other woman,’ he echoed. ‘Well, I’ll say this for her. She’s more skilled and astute than I gave her credit for. All right, maybe she’s not out to marry you. Perhaps she’s just stringing you along for the sake of her island friends. After all, you’re the power there. It would pay her to get on your right side.’
‘Stop it!’ Darius raged. ‘If you know what’s good for you, stop it now!’
‘Or what? Is my son threatening me? I really did underestimate her, didn’t I? All right, we’ll say no more. I tried to warn you but there’s no helping a fool.’
‘Maybe I am a fool,’ Darius said. ‘And maybe I’m happy to settle for that.’
‘That makes you an even bigger fool.’
‘If you dare make yourself unpleasant to Harriet—’
‘I’ve no intention of doing so. Now, it’s time we were getting back to the party.’
He strode out. As he walked through the door Darius saw him position a smile on his face, so that he appeared to the assembled company wearing the proper mask.
Suddenly Darius felt sick.
It was an effort to get his own mask in place and he knew he was less successful than his father, managing only an air of calm that covered the turmoil within. Harriet was sitting with her arm across the empty seat beside her, looking around worriedly. Someone spoke to her and she answered briefly before returning to her troubled search. It was as though the world had stopped in its tracks until she found what she was looking for.
Then she saw Darius and he drew in his breath at the transformation. Suddenly it was as though she was illuminated from inside, radiant, joyful.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said, going to sit beside her. ‘I got waylaid. Forgive my bad manners.’
‘Is everything all right?’
‘Everything’s fine.’ He laid his hand over hers. ‘Nothing for you to worry about.’
A waiter poured champagne for them both.
‘Now, let’s forget everything else and enjoy ourselves,’ Darius said, raising his glass to clink hers.
Around the various tables, his family observed them. His brothers grinned. His stepsister smiled with relief. His children rubbed their hands. His father scowled.
It was time for the speeches. The best man spoke, the bride and groom talked eloquently. Various other guests proposed toasts. Darius was barely aware of it. He was conscious only of Harriet beside him, wondering if she was remembering the joy of her own wedding, and the marriage that had ended in tragedy. But he could detect nothing in her manner that gave him a clue. Her barriers were in place.
He’d meant it when he’d told his father that he didn’t feel deceived that she had kept her secrets. It was yet more proof of their special friendship that he made no claims on her, demanded no rights.
But he knew a faint sadness that she hadn’t felt able to confide in him.
Your fault, he told himself. If you’d shut up talking about yourself for five minutes she might get a word in edgeways.
That eased his mind briefly, but he could remember a couple of times when the talk had strayed to her husband and she’d diverted it to something else. The truth was she didn’t want to open up to him. That was her right. He’d said so and he believed it. But it hurt.
Nor could he entirely escape the suspicion that if she hadn’t warned him off he would have sought more than friendship. She was beautiful, not conventionally, like other women, but with a mysterious enchantment that came from within and that beckoned him on.
He’d made promises about keeping his distance but, with a woman like this, how could a real man keep such insane promises?
Now waiters were clearing away for the dancing. The bridal couple took the floor and were soon joined by the rest of the crowd.
‘This time I’m seizing you first,’ Darius said firmly. ‘Before I get trampled in the rush.’
‘Nonsense,’ she said tenderly.
‘It isn’t nonsense. Of course it’s nice when the lady on your arm turns out to be the belle of the ball, but it has its troublesome moments too. I don’t like sharing.’
‘Neither do I, but we both have to do our social duty.’
‘Ah, I see. You’ve gone into teasing mode.’
‘Why not? I enjoy new experiences and, after all, you brought me here to help stage a performance. Think of me as a piece of stage scenery. Under this dress I’m just wood and plaster. Hey, what are you doing?’
‘Just checking the stage scenery,’ he said, letting his hand drift around her waist until it sank immodestly over her hips. ‘It doesn’t feel like any wood and plaster I’ve ever known.’
It was shocking and she knew she should tell him to move his hand from where it lay over the smooth grey silk, softly caressing the movements against his fingers. But a little pulse was beating in her throat and she couldn’t get the words out. And probably nobody could see it in the crowd, she reassured herself.
She was suffused by a warmth and sweetness so intense that it made her dizzy. She wanted to dance like this for ever, his arms around her, his body close to hers, and never have to think of anything else again.
The music was slowing, couples were pulling apart. Marcel presented himself expectantly.
‘Go to blazes,’ Darius told him pleasantly.
‘Certainly,’ Marcel said, and vanished.
Harriet was barely aware of Marcel, or any of their surroundings. Lost in a dream, she let herself drift into a new world, refusing to heed the warnings of danger, although she knew that danger would intrude in the end. But let it, she thought. First she would have her moment, and cherish its memory to see her through the dark times.
With a sigh, she felt his movements slow as this dance too came to an end, and she knew that he would not claim her again. The moment had come and gone until, perhaps, another time.
Harriet wondered if it could possibly have been the same for him, but when she looked into his face she saw that it was troubled.
‘What’s on your mind?’ she asked. ‘Something’s worrying you. I know it. Tell me.’
For a moment he hesitated on the verge of telling her about his father and what he’d learned, but then he backed off, unable to risk hurting her.
‘Can’t you tell your friend what’s wrong?’ she asked gently.
Once, younger and more careless, he’d joked that at all costs a man should avoid