with the grin went a belated attempt to look affectionate, by turning his hand on the table top until his strong fingers enclosed hers completely, his grip warm and firm. The slow, deliberate movement of his thumb against the sensitivity of her palm dried her throat, the softly sensual circles he was drawing setting her heart thudding and heating her blood.
Keir’s wicked, slanted glance in her direction told her that he knew exactly what he was doing. That he had turned her own weapon of the potent effect they had on each other back on her with devastating results.
‘I’m afraid what was occupying me last night was business, pure and simple,’ he confessed ruefully, his voice revealing nothing of the emotion that Sienna knew would shade hers if she tried to speak. ‘A deal that needed finalising.’
‘The night before your wedding!’ James was obviously disbelieving. ‘Keir, man, couldn’t it have waited?’
‘No way.’
The shake of his dark head that accompanied the flat statement was as firmly emphatic as the words.
‘I wanted this particular matter behind me once and for all, so that I was free to concentrate on my bride. It’s just that negotiations went on much longer than I had expected…’
Lucille had been as difficult as it was possible for her to be, damn her, Keir reflected grimly. She and her lawyer had held out for every penny she could get away with, and then some. There had been times when he had come close to giving up on the whole thing and walking out, but then, just when he had been about to declare that he had enough, that she could forget it, she had finally capitulated and signed on the dotted line.
‘I didn’t get to bed until well after midnight, and then I didn’t sleep too well.’
‘What was the problem?’ Sienna inserted rather tartly, the sensual haze that had enclosed her evaporating with a rapidity that left her shaken and disturbingly on the edge of tears.
It was his comment about being free to concentrate on his bride that had changed her mood. She was only too well aware of the fact that it had been inserted solely for the benefit of their audience. It had no grounding at all in reality. In fact the real truth was that, crazily, she didn’t even have the faintest idea what they were going to do once the wedding was over.
‘Wedding nerves?’
‘Something like that.’
‘Oh, come on! That’s the bride’s prerogative, not the groom’s!’
She couldn’t believe that Keir—strong, independent, determined, cold-blooded, heart-free Keir Alexander—had lain awake worrying about the coming day. Refused to even consider that he might have felt as apprehensive as she had about the marriage ceremony and what they were getting themselves into.
Not Keir. He was the one who had been as cool as the proverbial cucumber all the way through this. Once she had convinced him it was the answer to both their problems, he had taken every single thing in his stride, handled each detail, every small hiccup, with the cool assurance that was so much a part of his nature.
‘Are you saying that a man can’t feel unsure and apprehensive on the night before his wedding—overawed by the prospect of what’s ahead of him—the responsibility he’s about to take on?’
‘N-no…’
The look in his eyes disturbed her. They were darker than ever, shadowed by something she didn’t understand. And now that she looked more closely she could see smudges of weariness underneath them, marks that she had never noticed before. The faint lines that fanned out from the corners of his eyes looked more pronounced too, as if etched there by strain and worry.
‘Or are you claiming that if I’d rung you when I couldn’t sleep I’d have found you wide awake too, sharing the same sort of feelings?’
‘Well—no, I wasn’t.’
The truth was that, worn out by rushing around here there and everywhere for the past five weeks, she had fallen asleep as soon as her head had touched the pillow. Even the last minute butterflies in her stomach at the prospect of the day ahead had been overcome by the thought that tomorrow, finally, all her worries would be over.
‘I didn’t think so.’
Suddenly the thought that had crossed Sienna’s mind a moment before came rushing back with a new and worrying force.
Once she had convinced him. Keir hadn’t wanted this marriage. When she had first proposed the idea he had rejected it outright. It had only been when he’d made it a condition that they had a proper marriage, complete in every way, that he had been persuaded to agree to her proposal.
‘Sienna!’
Her name in Keir’s voice held a note of warning that dragged her back to the present. The best man was getting to his feet, ready to make his speech. Somehow Sienna found the self-control to appear to be listening. She turned her head in James’s direction, focused her eyes on his face, and even, forewarned by the ripples of laughter from other parts of the room, managed to smile at the jokes he made.
But the truth was that she heard little of the witty address, and registered even less. Deep inside, her stomach was just a twisting mass of nerves, a knot of fear that made her stomach heave nauseatingly.
What had she done? She had actually asked this man to be her husband. To live with her, share her home, her life, her bed. For the next year, at least, she would have to make it appear that she and Keir were deeply in love. That they were no longer two individuals but that indefinable thing known as ‘a couple’.
What had seemed so simple just a few days before now seemed impossible, unendurable, fraught with pitfalls and traps to catch the unwary. The twelve months that had once appeared such a short space of time now stretched endlessly ahead, three hundred and sixty five days of it, and she had no idea how she was going to live through it.
Fear pounded inside her head, beating at her temples, so that she had to fight against the impulse to push her chair back and run from the room. She had chosen this path, knowing she had no alternative. Married to Keir she would inherit her father’s money, and with it all the security and comfort it could bring. Without him she would be once more alone and desperate, with her mother totally dependent on her.
The speeches were over, the toasts completed. At last she was free from the obligation to stay in her seat. The feeling caused a rush of relief that brought her swiftly to her feet, unable to keep still any longer. She had no idea where she was going, thinking vaguely of heading for the huge French windows, now flung open in the late summer heat, of getting some much needed fresh air. Perhaps some deep, cooling breaths would calm her racing pulse, ease the pressure inside her head. But…
‘Sienna…’ Keir said abruptly, reaching for her. ‘Wait…’
His grip on her arm felt like a steel manacle, imprisoning her. Panic flared afresh and, reacting purely instinctively, she tensed, pulling back, away from him, earning herself a dark, disapproving glare.
‘What the…? Sienna, just what’s got into you? People are looking!’
The savage undertone was somehow more disturbing than if he had actually raised his voice to express the anger he was clearly barely holding in check. The blaze in his eyes terrified her,
