his slow, measured movements disguised, it was the anger he was holding in...just. Nobody under the influence could move like that, she decided, thinking jungle cat as she watched him.
He stopped just in front of her and waited. The silence shredded her already frayed nerves, and Mari lasted about twenty seconds before she felt compelled to break it. The other option by that point was screaming.
‘I didn’t mean—’ she blurted, then stopped. She hadn’t come here to apologise again but it was true she hadn’t meant to hurt the girl. The only thing Fleur Defoe was guilty of was having a manipulative brother. ‘I didn’t mean to upset your sister.’ She bit the inside of her cheek and fought off a tide of guilt. ‘Is she all right?’
Seb struggled to tamp down his anger with only moderate success. How the hell could she pretend to give a damn? ‘Because you care so much? Look, have a go at me if you want to. I can take care of myself.’ He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low menacing purr that decimated any nerve ending his physical proximity hadn’t already sent into shock. ‘But if you go after my sister, so help me, I’ll go after you.’
‘Am I meant to be scared?’ If so it was working. Only pride kept her retreating from the dark, cold menace in his deep-set eyes. ‘I didn’t want to hurt your sister. I wanted to hurt you!’
Possibly too much honesty at this point, Mari, she thought as she waited nervously for his reaction. The fact he didn’t react beyond elevating an eyebrow and looking thoughtful was baffling rather than comforting.
It was hard to retain dignity barefoot, especially in this dress, which had not been this tight across her hips the last time she’d worn it. It was the price you paid when your drug of choice was chocolate. Even in her heels she would have needed to tilt her head back to look him in the eyes; with nothing between the soles of her feet and the stone floor she felt... Well, Mari had once or twice wondered what it felt like to be petite and delicate. Now she had an idea, and she didn’t like it.
Ignoring her stomach fluttering and her curling toes, she thought, What’s the worst he can do? And wished she hadn’t because her vivid imagination responded to the invite and kicked in big time!
Seb, his temper cooling, felt an unwelcome stab of admiration. Her regal attitude was totally at odds with her gloriously mussed hair and bare feet but, by God, she carried it off. His eyes of their own accord dropped, following the soft, undulating curves of her body that the blue silk dress she wore lovingly hugged. She had come to play the victim, but looking the way she did she had to have been typecast as sinful seductress.
‘I didn’t think she’d actually dump you.’
‘Is that an apology?’
‘No, it’s...’ She stopped, her eyes widening fractionally as a possible explanation for the bride’s reaction struck her. ‘Have you done it before...but for real?’
His expression grew cold and contemptuous. ‘It must be the company you keep, but a lot of people don’t cheat.’
But do you? she wondered, watching as he responded to the imperative hum of a phone, which he slid from his pocket. He scanned the screen before punching something in and returning it to his pocket.
‘I haven’t got long.’ He was not fooled by the polite request; underneath the diplomatic language it was a royal command—he was being asked to defend brand Defoe.
‘Don’t let me keep you.’
The pert reply caused his attention, which had drifted away, to focus back in on her. ‘Was what you said about your brother true?’
She was outraged by the question. ‘Why would I lie about that?’
‘Why would you lie about me fathering your child?’ he countered.
‘I’ve told you.’
‘I know, spoil my day, wasn’t it?’ He tipped his head and gave a slow handclap. ‘Well, you succeeded in more ways than you can imagine.’ He dropped his hands and subjected her to a scrutiny of skin-peeling intensity. ‘What exactly happened to your brother?’ Something that had triggered today’s stunt?
‘He...he...’ Hearing the helpless wobble in her voice, she swallowed and blinked back the emotional tears that sprang to her eyes. ‘Mark could end up in a wheelchair permanently.’ A lot was still unknown, and Mari refused to think the worst. ‘Why are you asking? You don’t give a damn about him, do you?’ she charged, glaring up at him with angry contempt.
‘I wouldn’t wish that on anyone,’ he replied, wondering how he would react in the other man’s position. He hoped to God he would never find out.
She gave a bitter laugh. ‘Not even someone who doesn’t have the right...right...bloodline to marry your sister?’
Seb’s dark brows drew together in an astonished straight line above his masterful nose as he looked down at her. ‘Back up...’
If only she could have, Mari thought wistfully, she would have responded quite literally to this request. A few more feet to distance herself from his overpowering physical presence would have been welcome but there was nowhere to go.
‘Marry?’
Her teeth clenched at this display of unconvincing innocence. ‘Don’t bother with the act—I know what you did.’
Well, that makes one of us, he thought with a sardonic grimace. Every time she opened her mouth he felt as though he were being led deeper into a maze.
He released a long, slow, hissing breath, controlling his temper and the desire to grab her—and the hell of it was that, whatever his intentions, the moment he laid his hands on her it would change what hovered unacknowledged between them, taunting him, the way her mouth taunted him.
He had known it from the moment he saw her standing there in the church denouncing him to everyone who knew him. He wanted this woman, and if he touched her now that want would wipe out everything else.
Wasn’t it supposed to be therapeutic to look into your heart? Not that his heart was the organ involved in this instance. Either way, he didn’t feel better—he felt frustrated self-disgust.
‘Work from the premise I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.’
‘They were in love.’ She paused, distracted by the muscle that was clenching and unclenching in his lean cheek. ‘Y...you,’ she stuttered, thinking he should come with a shipping warning to stop females drifting into his magnetic field. ‘You put an end to it because you’re an arrogant snob who passes judgement on people he doesn’t know. You have no heart!’
As the quivering accusation left her lips her scornful gaze slid to his chest. The image of her placing her hand on his warm skin, feeling his heart beat under her fingers, came from nowhere. Severely shaken, she shook her head to dislodge it and the warm feeling it induced.
His brows lifted. She was really rather glorious in full flow with that pouting mouth and those flashing eyes. ‘If they were...in love, surely that wouldn’t have been possible. Doesn’t love conquer all?’
While he was innocent of the charge, Seb privately acknowledged that had there been any actual danger of Fleur marrying the
