at face value. ‘Thank you, Andrea.’
Five minutes after Andrea moved away, Chloe crossed the lobby to Katrina’s side.
‘We weren’t sure you’d attend tonight.’ Sleek, polished, and very self-assured, Kevin’s third wife possessed the practised aloofness of a catwalk model.
‘It’s what Kevin would have wanted,’ Katrina responded evenly before acknowledging her stepbrother. ‘Enrique.’
A young man whose pretty-boy attractiveness was deceptive, during Chloe’s marriage to Kevin he’d imagined that seducing Kevin’s daughter would be a shoe-in…only to discover Katrina wasn’t about to play. It hadn’t stopped him from trying, and he’d never quite forgiven her for spoiling his plans of a dream ride through life on the Macbride fortunes.
His eyes gleamed briefly with something akin to bitter resignation as they raked her slender form. ‘You look divine, sweetheart.’
‘Doesn’t she?’ Nicos caught her hand and lifted it to his lips, his eyes dark and unfathomable as he silently dared her to pull her fingers free from his grasp.
Her reaction to his touch was immediate and damning, for her pulse jumped to a quickened beat as warmth coursed through her veins. It felt as if her heart was working overtime, and it took considerable effort to appear unaffected.
‘What do you think you’re doing?’ Katrina demanded quietly the instant Chloe and Enrique moved out of earshot.
‘Damage control.’
‘For whose benefit?’ she queried with skepticism.
‘Yours,’ Nicos said silkily.
‘I doubt playing charades will work.’
A hovering waiter took her empty glass and offered her another, which she declined.
It was something of a relief when the ballroom doors opened minutes later and the guests were instructed to take their seats.
The food had to be delectable, given the price per ticket, but Katrina merely forked a few mouthfuls from each course, sipped a glass of excellent Chardonnay, and conversed politely with fellow guests seated at their table.
The evening’s entertainment was varied, and during a break she excused herself and threaded her way towards the powder room.
A headache was niggling away above her temple, and she’d have given anything to be able to leave and go home.
Except home was no longer her apartment, and the term of her enforced sojourn with Nicos had only just begun.
There was a queue, and she had to wait to gain space in front of the long mirror in order to freshen her lipstick.
Was it design or coincidence that seconds after emerging the first person she saw was Enrique? Considering her stepbrother inevitably had a plan, she opted for the former, acknowledged his presence, and made to bypass him en route to the ballroom.
One glance at his expression determined he had a mission in mind and, unless she was mistaken, he was bent on ill intent.
‘I wanted to see you alone,’ he began without preamble.
She could almost pre-empt what he was going to say, but she remained silent, willing to admit she might be wrong.
‘I need some money.’
‘I don’t have any on me.’
‘But you can get it.’
They’d been this route before. In the beginning, she’d thought she could help, and had. Until she’d realised she was only feeding his habit. ‘No.’
‘Tomorrow. Meet me for lunch. Bring it then.’
She was past feeling sorry for him. ‘What part of no don’t you understand?’
‘I’m begging you, dammit!’ He pulled in his temper with effort. ‘A thousand, Katrina. That’s all.’
‘Didn’t playing news gossip informant pay well enough?’
His eyes hardened. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
Her headache intensified. ‘Even if I were to lend it to you, how long will that hold off the heavies, Enrique? A week? Then what will you do?’
‘All I need is one win—’
‘No.’
Katrina watched his features darken with dread. Enrique in a mean mood was something she’d prefer to avoid.
His hand caught her arm in a painful grip. ‘Bitch!’ he exclaimed with soft venom. ‘You’ll pay for this!’
‘Let me go,’ she said quietly, and clenched her teeth against a silent cry as his fingers twisted viciously on her skin.
‘Do as Katrina says.’ Nicos’s voice was a chilling drawl. ‘Now.’
Enrique’s hand fell to his side.
‘I can’t think of any good reason for you to threaten my wife,’ Nicos said with dangerous softness. ‘Touch her again, and I can promise you won’t walk or talk for some considerable time.’
‘You should be aware I’ve instructed my lawyer to contest Kevin’s will,’ Enrique declared vehemently.
‘Something that will prove an exercise in futility,’ Nicos advised with hard inflexibility. ‘Each of Kevin’s wives were well provided for in their divorce settlements,’ Nicos continued with deceptive mildness. ‘Neither you nor Paula have any reason to make a claim against Kevin’s estate.’
‘That’s not how I see it!’ Without a further word, Enrique turned and re-entered the ballroom.
Katrina cast Nicos a fulminating look, and almost died at the latent anger evident.
‘I didn’t need rescuing!’
His expression remained unchanged. ‘No? From where I was standing, your charming stepbrother appeared to have the advantage.’
She could have told him Enrique had used a variety of bullying tactics in the past. And that Chloe’s son felt his stepsister owed him by virtue of his mother’s marriage to Kevin Macbride.
Her chin lifted fractionally, and her eyes were clear. ‘I can handle him.’
A muscle clenched at the edge of his jaw. ‘Verbally, without doubt,’ Nicos acknowledged with an edge of cynicism.
Katrina barely restrained stamping her foot in angry frustration. ‘Don’t play the heavy, Nicos.’
‘I’ll take you home.’
‘The hell you will.’
‘Determined to thwart me at every turn, Katrina?’
She
