querido, you’re in danger of reaching overkill.’
He touched a thumb-pad to her lips. ‘Think so?’
The lights dimmed, a spotlight hit the MC, and the charity organiser announced the amount of money raised for the night’s function, alerted guests to the next gala evening, and indicated a return of the comedian.
Somehow Camille had managed to manoeuvre the seating so she occupied a chair next to Miguel, and Hannah had to commend her determination while silently condemning her to hell.
Hannah picked at the decorative fare on her plate, forked a few mouthfuls, then pushed the plate aside.
Camille took every opportunity to engage Miguel’s attention with a light trail of red-lacquered nails on his sleeve, a touch to his hand, and her smile was a work of art in the seduction stakes.
The models took the catwalk for the final round while dessert was being served, and afterwards the waiters brought coffee while the singing duo closed the entertainment for the evening.
A DJ switched on special lighting effects, set the first of several CDs playing, and background music and recorded vocals encouraged those inclined to dance to take to the floor.
Now was the time for guests to mingle, table-hop and socialise with friends who were also present.
Alejandro and Elise communicated their intention to leave. ‘Tomorrow,’ Elise promised quietly. ‘We’ll catch up. I have photos, and the men have organised a day cruise and a picnic lunch.’
As they left a colleague crossed to their table to talk to Miguel, Camille slipped through the crowd heading for the ballroom exit, Miguel excused himself briefly and moved a few steps away as a friend joined the colleague, and within seconds Hannah was aware of someone taking Miguel’s seat.
‘How are you, Hannah?’
The male voice was familiar, and she turned slowly to face the man to whom it belonged.
‘Luc,’ she acknowledged coolly. ‘Believe me, there is no need to observe the social niceties. I have nothing to say to you.’
‘So cool,’ Luc mocked. ‘Still the ice princess, I see.’
‘You expect me to believe your presence here is purely coincidental?’
He inclined his head in a gesture of musing cynicism. ‘We could enjoy a conversation. Three years, Hannah. We have some catching up to do.’
‘No,’ she denied. ‘We don’t.’
‘Why, chérie?’ His smile aimed to melt her heart. ‘It was good while it lasted.’
She could feel the anger begin to burn deep inside. ‘Strange,’ she remarked coolly. ‘Our memories don’t match.’
She fixed him with an icy glare. ‘So let’s cut the pretence, shall we?’
He spread his hands in an expressive gesture. ‘Who’s pretending? I was very fond of you.’
‘Words,’ Hannah dismissed. ‘Suppose you tell me exactly why you’re here?’
‘This event?’
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake. Cut the game-playing. You know very well what I mean.’
‘Are you ready for the facts, chérie?’
As ready as I’ll ever be! She didn’t bother answering, just sent him a fulminating look that spoke volumes.
He gave a voluble sigh. ‘It will cost you.’
‘No, it won’t,’ Hannah denied heartlessly. ‘You owe me. For living the good life at the expense of my foolish generosity.’
He proffered a mocking smile. ‘When did you become so cynical?’
‘Three years ago.’
‘All right, chérie. This one is on me, for old times’ sake.’
‘Merci,’ she acknowledged in a voice as cold as an arctic ice floe.
‘Camille sought me out, paid my air fare, and is footing my accommodation,’ he revealed, and she arched one eyebrow.
‘And you’re bent on playing both ends against the middle?’
He gave a negligent shrug. ‘Your words, not mine.’
Hannah looked at him carefully, saw the handsome features, the rakish gleam evident in his expression, and wondered how on earth she could have been swayed by his charm. His megawatt smile had no effect whatsoever.
‘Go get a life, Luc.’
‘A word of warning, sweetheart,’ he offered quietly. ‘Camille is on a mission.’
‘As if I didn’t know?’
‘Dance with me, and I could be persuaded to tell you more.’
He was unbelievable! ‘Not even if my life depended on it!’
One eyebrow lifted in cynical amusement. ‘Perhaps you’re right.’ He cast a glance in Miguel’s direction.
‘Miguel Santanas doesn’t look the type of man who would willingly share.’
No, Hannah agreed, suppressing a slight shiver. Miguel’s ownership was total.
‘Maybe we could share a coffee somewhere and talk about old times.’
‘You can’t be serious?’ He had such a thick skin, it was almost laughable. ‘Yes, you are,’ she acknowledged with a shake of her head.
‘No hard feelings?’
She faced him squarely, her eyes steady. ‘When you report to Camille, tell her she doesn’t stand a snowflake’s chance in hell.’ She stood to her feet, needing a change of scene, if only for a few minutes.
She turned from the table and saw Miguel’s tall frame a few feet distant. He looked totally relaxed, his strong masculine features portraying interest as he listened to whatever his colleague had to say.
One glance at the expression in his eyes was sufficient for Hannah to realise he hadn’t missed a thing. There was a darkness evident, a latent anger that was almost frightening.
She moved towards him, pausing as she reached his side while he performed an introduction, and she stood perfectly still as he reached for her hand and linked his fingers through her own.
Support? Protection? she wondered. Or was he merely staking a claim, making a statement?
The colleague excused himself and returned to a nearby table.
‘Shall we leave?’ Miguel queried with a faintly inflected drawl.
Hannah offered him a stunning smile, then lifted a hand and traced a light path along the edge of his jaw.
‘And
