when Angel had a horror Genni was about to do just that. “Blaine, darling, you can’t be serious?” A superb actress, she sounded amazed. “Every single day Genni has been telling me how happy she is. How much she loves Colin. They were made for each other. Soul mates!”
“Rubbish!” Blaine corrected very bluntly. “When you’re madly in love with someone you don’t look like Genni does now. I know her too well.”
“But goodness, darling, you’ve never been madly in love with anyone, so how would you know?”
“Simple. You really should take time off to try and understand your daughter. Anyway, any woman I’ve been involved with is still my friend, which is a damned sight more than you can say of your two husbands and assortment of gigolos.”
“You loved saying that, didn’t you, darling?” Angel, unfazed by the hard truth, pulled a little face. “Sometimes, Blaine, you can be absolutely dreadful.”
“When Genni’s happiness and well-being is put on the line, yes,” he acknowledged brusquely. “Look at her, Angel. Forget yourself and your plans. Look at Genni. She’s as white as a snowdrop.” His glittering grey gaze was directed to the centre of the overly grand room where Genni was being posed by Bernard in front of the white marble fireplace. It was adorned with a great abundance of white roses and green tracery topped and outdone by a large portrait of Angel in a deliciously low-cut blue-satin ballgown painted during the halcyon days of her ill-fated first marriage.
“God, I don’t believe this,” Blaine muttered blaming himself for not simply kidnapping the bride. A hundred vivid memories of Genevieve flitted through his head. The adorable two-year-old with her radiant violet eyes and riot of platinum curls.
He’d been ten years old when his father’s favourite cousin, Stephen, had brought his little daughter to Jubilee. A difficult ten-year-old, hard to handle. A boy who already knew despair because his beautiful mother had abandoned him and his father and run off with her lover. An event so unexpected, so out of character, he sometimes thought he was still in a state of shock.
Genni had come into his life at the right time. Over the years he had given her all the love his heart could hold. She was so innocent, so vulnerable, so sweet-sassy intelligent, so generous with her affections.
As Stephen and Angel drifted further and further apart Genni had come to spend more time at Jubilee where she was back with her “cherished” Blaine. How close they had been then. It seemed he had taught her everything. How to swim, how to ride, how to handle a gun, how to find her way around the bush, how to survive. What he hadn’t been able to teach her was how to pick the right men. In fact from about seventeen he’d been in despair about Genni’s choices. Not a one good enough for her.
Certainly not Garrett, though loaded with money and a certain easy charm, he was short on substance. The more he had tried to tighten his hold on her, the more Genni had flown into little wild rages, claiming where he had once loved her now she was always in high disfavour. It wasn’t true. He was hungry in spirit for the old easy relationship, but over the past few years an odd constraint had grown between them neither of them seemed to know how to break. Genni no longer ran to him for advice and comfort. Or did she? What was she doing at the hotel last night? Hilary had told him Genni had paid the visit to her. He should have known better about his stepsister’s wiles. The unfortunate truth was Hilary had a deep-seated jealousy of Genevieve. Everyone in the family knew it, just as they knew Hilary had grown into her own worst enemy.
While Blaine brooded, his eyes like jewels, Angel was saying quite merrily, “Genni looks perfectly happy to me, darling. A touch of bridal jitters, no more.” She reached up to pat Blaine’s lean tanned cheek. “You’re worrying about nothing,” she said softly. “You always did have a powerful urge to keep Genni to yourself.” Angel smiled as she watched Bernard straighten Genni’s long beautiful veil. “Isn’t her bouquet fabulous?” She smiled proudly. “You can’t beat Hughie Rickman for flowers.”
Blaine answered with such terseness it could easily have been interpreted as profound disapproval. “She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, but no one, not even Genni herself, can convince me she’s in love with this guy. I can’t have her marrying a man she doesn’t love.”
At the sweep-all-before it note in his voice, Angel put a trembling hand to her breast. Only for her deep concern for her makeup she would have been in tears. “Blaine, maybe you’ve got a problem,” she suggested. “Genni hasn’t.” She lifted her face to him, despite herself pierced through with his wondrous blue-blooded aura. “You can’t always run her life. You’re here to give her away, my dear. In under a half hour you and Genni are going to do the grand march down to the altar. I know both your lives will change, but look on the bright side. You won’t have to worry about her any more. You won’t have to pick up all the bills.” She said it totally without embarrassment, but Blaine answered with the merest lick of contempt.
“We’re not talking about money. Everything would be fine if only I could believe Genni is marrying the man she loves.”
His radar was working too well. “Blaine, darling,” Angel tried her most convincing voice, tilting back her head so she could look him directly in the eye. “My daughter told me only last night never in her life has she been so happy.” Telling fibs was one of Angel’s lifelong specialities. “And she’ll never want for anything, isn’t that wonderful?”
Apparently that didn’t thrill Blaine at all. “Who the hell cares about that?” he retorted in a low burned-up voice. “She couldn’t be stupid enough to marry just for money?”
Angel was amazed by such a view. “That’s all very well for people who have tons of it,” she responded. “Money is way too good to pass up.”
Blaine gave a weary sigh. “I just hope your outlook hasn’t rubbed off on Genni,” Blaine responded tautly. “There’s much too much to her for the likes of Garrett. I liked him well enough when Genni first brought him to Jubilee but I never thought for one minute he was the man she was seriously considering marrying.”
It was hard indeed to sound nonchalant. “Go on, darling,” Angel teased. “I’m sure Genni tried to tell you. I know you really care about her but you don’t show her much tenderness. The truth is your father’s daunting manner spilled over on you. Genni fell head over heels in love with Colin. The only person who didn’t know about it was you.” Angel gave her tinkling laugh that held quite an edge.
It was Bernard the society photographer who halted Blaine’s searing retort. “Pardon me?” Bernard called, struggling with his own radar. “It’s your turn now, mother of the bride.” He bowed gracefully in Angel’s direction, though he hadn’t taken to her one bit, “and the bride’s very distinguished cousin, the well-known cattle baron, Mr. Blaine Courtland. I can’t let you get away.”
“God!” Blaine muttered beneath his breath, feeling Angel’s small hand sneak into his as though he was too, too dear to her. In a few minutes he would have Genni alone in the car. He would be as gentle as he knew how with her. Angel’s reference to his “lack of tenderness” had really stung. It was deserved. He was desperate now to get Genni to reveal her heart. He knew precisely how he felt. Every atom of his being was steeled against giving her away. If his instincts were correct beneath that exquisite bridal exterior Genni was screaming for help.
Inside the stretch limousine Genni sat very quietly in all her wedding finery, the billowing silk skirt stretched out over the seat, her veil arranged to one side lying in a foaming cloud atop it, looking determinedly out the window. If she dared to chance a look at Blaine sitting opposite her, he
