Strategy For Marriage. Margaret Way
were to cut the cake in the house. She hoped to be long gone by then. Why hadn’t the cattle baron thrown her out? He was a strange perverse man.
Instead he made her eat something. “Go on,” he urged. “Everyone is looking at you. Isn’t that too priceless? Of course you’re the most beautiful woman here, though I expect you still want to change places with Callista?”
She was aghast at his little cruelties. “What a pig you are. Cochon!”
“But of course you speak French,” he joked. “Anyway I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.” He bent his glistening dark head over hers, a study in ebony and gold, as though he was whispering endearments.
“No need to overdo it,” she said sharply, struck again by the beauty of his eyes. Why did men have such wonderful eyelashes?
“I’m doing what I want to do. It’s even possible I’ve fallen madly in love with you.”
“And pray have you?” She could barely conceal her inner rage.
“No. We’re co-conspirators that’s all. And I’m damned if I know why. Our paths will probably never cross again.”
“Amen to that,” she flashed. This wasn’t a man you sashayed around. He was a big, powerful tough man. The sort of man she disliked.
“You don’t see me as eligible?” he mocked. “They tell me I am.”
“Why not with all that money,” she returned bleakly. Wasn’t that how it went with Josh.
“You have such command of diplomacy. I’m sure you weren’t always that cynical.”
“I was not.” There was a headache behind her eyes.
“You’re thinking about Deakin, aren’t you?” he abruptly accused, the muscles of his face tautening.
“It’s hard not to when I’ve turned up at his wedding,” she managed painfully.
“And when did you decide to do that?” He was determined to know.
“At precisely half past eleven last night,” she replied.
“What we call a snap decision? More champagne? There’s a choice. Moet or Bollinger?”
“Wouldn’t it have been cheaper, even smarter, to buy domestic?” she asked tartly, swallowing a morsel of Russian caviar.
“Mercedes thinks our champagne styles lack French subtlety.”
“She should go to more wine tastings. Even the experts have been known to be fooled.”
Inevitably other guests surged up to speak to Ashe. He appeared to be known and “adored” by everyone on the bride’s side, but needless to say none of the super-rich knew her. She only occasionally moved into their world at charity functions. But he introduced her to all his friends who turned searching but approving eyes on her. It was about time Ashe got married, they said with sly glances at her, never guessing she was wincing inside. As urbanely as Ashe McKinnon was handling all this, she just knew there was a dark side to the cattle baron. He was allowing this charade to go on to prevent a scandal. She was determined to get away from him, at the same time filled with the weird notion she couldn’t even if she tried. But her moment came. The best-looking of the bridesmaids, four in all, all dressed alike in shades of blue moire silk, determinedly took hold of his arm.
“Ashe, darling, why are you being so cruel to me…?”
Christy waited for no more. She fled across the lawn, keeping to the shadows and away from the main reception rooms, heading eastwards. If she got lost he would have to send a search party. She’d have really strange memories of all this. They’d probably stay with her all her life.
Just when she thought she was safe, a man’s hand suddenly reached for her, drawing her back into a large dimly lit room that looked like a man’s study. She had an impression of walls of books, glass cases bearing sporting trophies, paintings of winning racehorses, a desk and chairs.
“Christy!” Josh was staring down at her, soft floppy hair nearly falling into his eyes.
“Sorry, sorry, sorry, I don’t want to speak to you.” She gritted her teeth.
“Take it quietly, darling,” he begged. “God, I thought the bloody cattle baron had abducted you.”
“He’ll be coming to look for me pretty soon,” Christy warned, wanting nothing more than to have Ashe McKinnon explode into the room.
“You don’t know him, do you?’ Josh asked as if he guessed her pitiful secret.
“Pretty soon we’re going to get engaged,” Christy said briskly, wanting to see how he took it.
The generous mouth dropped open. “Be serious.”
“I am being serious,” she managed.
“You’re not!” Now he gloated. “You don’t know him. He doesn’t come to the city that often. He has a cattle empire to run.”
“I know!” Christy flaunted the knowledge. “He’s very rich.”
“You don’t care about riches.”
“I do now. It’s ironic, isn’t it? I’d say he has even more millions than your wife and mother-in-law put together.”
“You’re bitter, aren’t you?” Josh accused her, his hazel eyes raking her face and body.
“Get a grip, Josh,” she said, green eyes narrowing in contempt. “It’s okay you married your Callista. There’s a big wide world out there full of gorgeous men. Ashe McKinnon would have to be right up there at the top.”
“You weren’t on the wedding list,” Josh pointed out aggressively. “You’re a fake, Christy. You don’t know him at all.” But on his own wedding day Josh’s voice cracked with jealousy.
“How would you know?” Christy was finding his behaviour abominable. “It’s been weeks since I laid eyes on you. Now if you don’t mind I want to leave.”
“When you’re McKinnon’s date?” He challenged her to stop.
“I mean leave this room. You have me bailed up.” She stared at him in disgust, willing him out of the way.
“No one will come in here, Christy,” he said as if to reassure her.
“Oh, please. You’d better hope and pray not Ashe McKinnon. You could wind up dead. He’s very protective of his cousin.”
“I can handle Callista.” He smiled tightly. “I had to talk to you, Christy. I have to see you later.”
“Later?” Her eyes flashed angrily even while her voice rose in sheer disbelief. “Later you’re supposed to be on your honeymoon. Not renewing our relationship.”
“How I wish it was you,” he admitted in a tone of deepest regret.
“Go to hell.” She prised her fingers from his arm. “And I hope you stay there.”
“Why are you doing this to me?” he groaned, his eyes curiously glazed. “I love you. You love me. Nothing can change that.” He reached, as though this time she would surrender and go into his arms.
Instead the tall, powerful figure of Ashe McKinnon appeared in the open doorway. He fairly lunged into the room, looking as daunting as the devil, just as dangerous, and probably just as unlawful.
“This has to be the most stupid thing you’ve ever done, Deakin,” he rasped, eyes like black diamonds. “Get away from him.” He turned on Christy, grinding out the order.
Giving orders was a tendency in dangerous creatures, she thought, instantly obeying.
“Hasn’t it crossed your arrogant mind that’s what I’m trying to do?” The decided edge in her voice matched his own.
“I