Mother Of The Bride. Carole Mortimer

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about this latest development, although she knew he couldn't have missed that ring sparkling on Emily's finger.

      She had to admit, when she looked at Emily and Greg as they walked ahead of them, they made an attractive couple, Emily so delicately beautiful, Greg looking like a blond god at her side. Greg had inherited his colouring from his mother, long hair gleaming golden on to his shoulders; he moved with the grace of a natural athlete, the baggy suit he wore not detracting from his animal grace.

      Emily and Greg looked so right together. Strange, Helen had never noticed that before …

      Zack's hand tightened on her arm, his fingers hurting her through the thin wool. ‘God, you're so transparent!’ he rasped disgustedly.

      She looked up at him, still dazed by the direction her thoughts had taken.

      ‘I doubt you would be so disapproving if Greg weren't my son!’ he scorned, releasing her so abruptly that she momentarily lost her balance.

      The accusation was so far removed from what she had actually been thinking that it took her several seconds to turn her attention to what he had said.

      And in part he was wrong; she would have disapproved of Emily being engaged to anyone now, believed her daughter was far too young to be seriously involved with anyone just yet. The fact that the young man involved was Greg did make the situation more difficult. And as yet neither of them had offered any explanation for that ring on Emily's left hand.

      Helen kept trying not to look at it as Emily sat down, but as if to mock and taunt her the candle in the centre of the table seemed to make every facet gleam brighter than ever!

      Helen's eyes flashed as she turned to Zack before sitting down. ‘But he is your son,’ she bit out so softly that only he could hear.

      He returned her gaze coldly. ‘And how you hate the very thought of it,’ he muttered his distaste for her prejudice before sitting in the chair next to hers.

      Of course she hated the thought of it; he couldn't seriously expect her to be thrilled at the prospect of possibly being forced to accept his continued presence in their lives—as Emily's father-in-law this time! Good God, there was another possibility she hadn't even thought of; if—and it was still a big if as far as she was concerned, despite the existence of that ring on Emily's finger!—Emily and Greg really were engaged, and eventually married and had children, she and Zack would be their respective grandparents!

      She had believed, hoped, that once her divorce from Zack became final she could forget the marriage had ever taken place at all. This unforeseen situation could make that impossible!

      The sooner she established exactly what was going on between Emily and Greg, the better!

      ‘Helen believes,’ Zack drawled before she could speak, his gaze raking over her derisively before he turned his attention to the young couple, ‘that the announcement in The Times this morning was a practical joke.'

      Greg's hand moved to clasp Emily's in a protective gesture as it rested on top of the white cotton tablecloth. ‘And you?’ he challenged almost defiantly.

      ‘I think—–’ Zack looked perfectly relaxed as he leaned back in his chair, but that very stillness could hide a dozen emotions, all of them ominous, as Helen very well knew ‘—that you owe us some sort of explanation. Don't you?’ He arched one dark brow.

      ‘Not now, Zack,’ Emily protested.

      ‘Now,’ he insisted firmly.

      ‘But it's my birthday,’ she pouted prettily. ‘And I—Mummy, where's Gramps?’ she frowned suddenly. ‘I thought when we arrived that he must be in the loo, but—he isn't here, is he?’ she realised flatly.

      Helen knew that Zack was looking at her, could feel the hard query of his gaze, and she determinedly did not look at him. He knew of the dislike her father had for him, of how stubborn the older man could be, although she had never been able to fault Zack's behaviour towards her father; he had always treated him with respect, no matter what the provocation might have been to do otherwise!

      Emily was still looking at her frowningly. ‘Don't tell me,’ she sighed. ‘He wasn't feeling well!'

      ‘Emily!’ She reproved the sarcastic edge to her daughter's voice. ‘You know your grandfather doesn't enjoy good health.'

      ‘On the contrary,’ Zack put in softly, ‘he enjoys ill-health.'

      ‘You have no right—–’ Helen broke off abruptly as the waiter came to take their order, the delay while they ordered giving her time to get herself back under control. Emily's disappointment was understandable, but Zack's derision was unforgivable.

      ‘Gramps didn't come,’ Emily repeated dully, once the waiter had departed, turning away to talk softly to Greg, but not before Helen had seen the sheen of tears in her eyes.

      Helen knew her father was in the wrong for behaving so stubbornly and ruining Emily's birthday, but she also found Zack's attitude extremely annoying. She was so agitated that as she took out her napkin to place it over her knee it dropped to the floor.

      Zack bent down to retrieve it for her, his gaze clearly mocking her slightly flustered movements. ‘Your father heard of the return of the prodigal, did he, and decided not to come?’ he taunted softly.

      ‘You're hardly that!’ she snapped disparagingly.

      He held her gaze in steady challenge as he placed the napkin in her lap, his fingers deliberately brushing against her thigh, and laughed softly as Helen pushed his hand away with a hurried movement, high colour in her cheeks.

      Helen was breathing shallowly, inwardly berating herself for letting this man's touch affect her in that way. She suddenly wished that the champagne Zack had ordered would arrive; she desperately needed something to steady her nerves!

      Zack turned to the young couple. ‘We seem to have strayed off the subject of your supposed engagement,’ he reminded them firmly.

      Emily instantly brightened. ‘Oh, there's nothing “supposed” about it.’ She held out her left hand so that they could all see the ring sparkling there. ‘Greg and I went out and bought this today.’ She moved her hand so that the emerald and surrounding diamonds winked more effectively.

      Which was why neither of them had been at home all day to answer the telephone! Or was it? Helen had rung too early the first time this morning for the shops to even be open. She had the distinct feeling that she and Zack had been given the run-around all day by their respective children, Emily and Greg putting off the moment of confrontation until it couldn't be put off any longer.

      ‘You put the announcement in the newspaper yourselves,’ Helen guessed impatiently. ‘Emily, how could you?'

      ‘Mummy, there was no other way.’ Emily looked at her imploringly. ‘If we had come to you first and told you—–'

      ‘Asking might have been better,’ Zack put in harshly. ‘It's customary to at least ask the girl's parents first before making any other plans,’ he reproved his son sternly.

      ‘You two certainly didn't ask Gramps,’ Emily accused. ‘Otherwise the two of you would never have got married!'

      ‘Emily!’

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