make that sort of commitment to any woman ever again.
But now that Diana was aware of the impending marriage she didn’t doubt who the intended bride was to be; she had a vivid memory, as she walked down the catwalk in the wedding gown earlier, of a red-tipped hand resting proprietorially on Reece Falcon’s arm as the beautiful redhead sitting beside him engaged him in conversation while her gaze remained firmly fixed on Diana wearing the gown.
From what Diana remembered about the other woman—and she wished now she had taken more notice of her!—Charles was right to feel concerned about the advisability of Reece Falcon’s bride wearing that particular gown; the redhead had looked too short to be able to carry off the beautiful simplicity of the long flowing lines of the gown.
Diana found now, as she turned back to look at Reece Falcon as Charles hurried off with Joanna at his side, that her own gaze was on a level with the aquiline nose with that intriguing bump at its bridge. At the same time she also realised the two of them, for all that the room was crowded with people, were effectively alone. And now that she had learnt of his marriage she needed time to sit down and consider what effect that had on her own plans.
She gave him a politely dismissively smile. ‘If you’ll excuse me——’
‘No,’ he told her evenly, effortlessly.
Her lashes fluttered uncertainly as she looked at him, momentarily disconcerted. ‘I’m sorry,’ she finally shook her head. ‘I——’
‘Are you?’ he rasped, eyes narrowed to silver slits.
She frowned now, unsure of the change of mood. ‘I meant——’
‘I know what you meant, Divine.’ His mouth twisted with scorn for her professional name. ‘I happen to think, having now met you, that you’re probably enjoying yourself.’
Diana met his gaze unflinchingly. ‘If I didn’t enjoy my work, Mr Falcon, then I wouldn’t do it any more.’
Dark brows rose mockingly. ‘From what I hear of the fees top-class models—and I include you, obviously, in that category,’ he drawled, acknowledging the slight inclination of her head, at the compliment, with one of his own, ‘command nowadays, that would be a little foolish, don’t you think?’
Her mouth firmed, eyes flashing slightly at the taunt. ‘Some things are more important than money, Mr Falcon——’ She broke off in stunned defence as he began to laugh at the comment, not a soft chuckle, but loud mocking laughter that had people all around the room turning to look at them curiously, a soft buzz of conversation instantly following as the two of them were recognised.
How dared he laugh at her? Just because he made money, and the power that money could buy him—power and money being the gods in his life—that was no reason to judge everyone else by the same cynicism.
He was shaking his head ruefully as the laughter died away, somehow appearing younger with his face relaxed in humour. ‘Where on earth did Chris find you?’ he mused disbelievingly.
She drew in a sharp breath as understanding dawned. ‘Ah,’ she nodded.
‘Penny finally dropped, has it?’ Reece Falcon taunted, his gaze sweeping over her disparagingly. ‘You’ve been playing games with my son, Divine——’
‘Diana,’ she snapped irritably. ‘My name is Diana,’ she explained challengingly as he looked at her with raised brows.
‘I thought Divine was a bloody silly name for any parent to have saddled a child with!’ He shook his head self-derisively. ‘But I take it Chris insists on calling you by it,’ he added knowingly.
Chris thought her professional name was romantic. He also enjoyed being seen with someone as publically known as Divine was. She had only been out with Chris to public places half a dozen times, but on a couple of those occasions they had been spotted together by the Press, and several questioning comments had appeared in the gossip columns concerning the two of them following that. It wasn’t so surprising, then, that Reece Falcon had finally got to hear about their relationship—in fact, it was what she had been hoping for! She just wished she had had a little more warning…
‘Chris is different,’ she told his father huskily, meeting the narrowed silver gaze with steady challenge.
‘Oh, yes,’ Reece Falcon acknowledged sharply. ‘He’s very different. The main way in which he differs from other people is that he’s my son——’
‘We all have disadvantages in our lives, Mr Falcon,’ Diana told him with contempt. ‘It’s just a question of trying to overcome them as best we can!’
For a moment he looked stunned by the quick viciousness of her attack, as if he very rarely came across such obvious antagonism directed towards him, and never from a woman. But as his initial surprise turned to deepening curiosity, his gaze searching now on the beauty of her face with its two bright spots of colour in otherwise pale cheeks indicating the anger she still felt, she knew that he found her outspoken attitude towards him intriguing in spite of himself.
‘So it is,’ he finally drawled appreciatively. ‘But you must realise, Diana, that the two of us have to talk——’
‘Not at all,’ she dismissed firmly, half turning as if to leave, and almost gasping out loud as Reece Falcon’s fingers clasped about her wrist to stop her from moving away. As it was she couldn’t stop the way her eyes widened, or the way they shadowed to a deep emeraldgreen. ‘Let go of my arm, Mr Falcon,’ she instructed with careful control, her voice barely above a whisper now, although she knew by the way his gaze narrowed on her consideringly that he had heard every word she said. And he wasn’t sure he wanted to do what she asked!
He shook his head finally, his fingers still like steel bands about her flesh. ‘Not until you agree that we have to talk.’
Her breathing felt as if it were coming in short, painful gasps, she felt cold and shivery despite the heat of the room, and her skin seemed to burn where he touched her—and at that moment she knew she wanted to agree to anything to get him to release her. But ultimately she knew she wouldn’t—couldn’t do that; that she would never show any sign of weakness towards this man.
Instead she looked at him coldly. ‘If you don’t release my arm, Mr Falcon, I’m going to start screaming,’ she told him with calm indifference. Inside she was just so relieved that she was managing to sound as controlled as she normally did—when in reality she really did feel like screaming! ‘And when I scream it will be—— Thank you,’ she accepted coolly as he slowly released her wrist as he saw she meant every word she said. ‘The truth of the matter is, Mr Falcon,’ she continued pleasantly, as if she hadn’t just directly challenged the man—and won!—‘that I’m very tired just now, and I actually intend going back to my hotel for a bath and a long sleep——’
‘Which hotel?’ he demanded quickly, his voice an angry rasp, all his earlier amusement—at her expense—having faded.
‘George the Fifth,’ she supplied without hesitation, having no reason to feel threatened; she had no intention of talking to this man anywhere tonight—she really did feel very tired after the gruelling week she had just had. And talking to this man at all wasn’t helping her exhaustion; in fact her nerves felt stretched to breaking-point. ‘But——’
‘Diana, you forgot to take these with you!’ Cally called out, hurrying
