They’d have a field day. I must move to another hotel.’
She put up her hand in a halt sign. ‘No. Don’t do that. I’ll move to the staff quarters at the back of the resort. I can have a room there. It’s pretty basic but—’
‘I can’t allow you to do that.’
She scowled. Which made her look cute rather than fierce. ‘It’s not a matter of you allowing me to do anything. It’s only for two weeks. I’m not such a “spoiled Sydney princess” that I can’t deal with it.’
Her voice wobbled on the words. So she’d read that offensive story too. It had been immensely unflattering about both of them. He’d felt outraged on her behalf. Had thought about contacting her to offer his commiserations. Had decided against it. He could not be linked to her again. Besides, no one had known where she was. Now he did.
‘And after the two weeks? What then for you?’ he asked.
‘Back into my own room, I guess,’ she said.
‘I mean, what are you doing up here?’
‘Helping my friend Maya. Making plans. You know I sold my business?’
‘I saw that,’ he said.
The night of the rehearsal, when he’d first met Nikki, he had looked her up and read about her success story. How her sister had a very sensitive skin and couldn’t use any of the commercial products. How Nikki had developed a range of products that worked for her sister. How she hadn’t sought conventional distribution but got in early with her online store, stocking first her own products then other brands. Word of mouth and canny marketing had made it a very profitable hit. Just days after the wedding debacle he’d been surprised to see she’d sold out to one of the huge international cosmetic conglomerates under the headline ‘Runaway Bride Cashes In’.
‘Congratulations,’ he said. ‘Did you sell because of what happened with Alan?’
She shook her head. ‘The sale was put in motion before the wedding I thought offloading my very demanding business would give me more time to devote to...’ Her voice hitched. ‘To family life.’
‘I’m sorry,’ he said, not sure what else he could say.
She shrugged. ‘As it turned out the timing was right—after all I needed a sabbatical from work, some time to put myself together again. Everything had fallen apart. I... I wasn’t coping very well with the aftermath.’
‘Understandably,’ he said carefully.
She raised her eyes to his. ‘You know, I really thought I loved Alan. And that he loved me. I’m nearly thirty. I wanted to get married and start a family. It was devastating to find out the truth about him. How horribly he’d lied. That he wasn’t at all the person I’d thought he was. I didn’t run away from the wedding on a whim, you know.’ She scuffed the sand with the toe of her sandals, averting her gaze.
‘I know you didn’t,’ he said. She’d been too desperate for it to have been whim. When the media speculation had been at its fieriest, he had asked himself whether, if he had the time again, he would have aligned himself with Team Groom and refused to help her. He hadn’t had to think long.
‘Almost to the time I got to the church I thought I’d go through with it,’ she said. ‘That he’d change. That I’d be the one to make him change where other women had failed. Deep down I knew that wouldn’t happen. My father came good when he went into the church to tell Alan and the guests. But in the car he wouldn’t hear of helping me bolt. My behaviour would have reflected badly on him. Then I saw you and—’
‘And the rest is history,’ he said drily. ‘I don’t regret helping you. I’d do it all again.’
She looked up, her eyes widened in surprise. ‘Despite the aftermath?’
‘Yes,’ he said.
There were two defining moments that had made him certain he’d done the right thing that day. The first was when she’d kissed him. A polite kiss of thanks. And yet for these few seconds her soft lips had been pressed against his cheek and he’d breathed in her scent he’d felt something he hadn’t felt in a long time. An awareness. A stirring of excitement, more thrilling perhaps because it was forbidden. Out of bounds. He couldn’t share that moment and the feelings it had aroused in him with her. But the second moment he could.
‘When Alan went for me, there was a moment when his eyes went dead,’ he said. ‘All the charm and bonhomie gone, unable to mask a ruthless violence that I suspect was habitual. I was very glad I’d helped you escape marriage to the man.’
Nikki gasped and her hand went to her heart. ‘You recognised that? His first ex-wife hinted at abuse on that first phone call. Then confirmed it afterwards when I sent her flowers in gratitude for the warning.’
He pushed away the unimaginable dreadful thought of Nikki suffering at the hands of her ex. Thank heaven he had been there for her. ‘You had a lucky escape.’
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Thanks to the people who helped me.’
Max couldn’t help but wonder what kind of woman would be so generous as to send flowers to the woman who had warned her off her ex-husband? She was something, Nikki Lucas.
‘Why didn’t I recognise him for what he was?’ she said. ‘How could I have been so blind?’
‘If it’s any consolation I was taken in by him too. Why else would I agree to be best man to a guy I hardly knew? He was persuasive. Played on a long-ago friendship. The fact I was back in Sydney after a lengthy absence and looking to establish a new circle of people.’
‘Did you know I agreed to marry him after only a few months? He knew exactly how to play me,’ she said with a bitter twist to her mouth. ‘Made me believe that everything I wanted from life, he wanted too.’
What did Nikki want? Max realised how very little he actually knew about her. And how tempting it would be to find out more.
* * *
Nikki had not intended to confide in Max about The Abominable Alan, the nickname Maya had given her former fiancé. But it was a relief to discover that his best man had been fooled by him as well. Alan had probably had an ulterior motive in his dealings with Max, as he had with her. Max was a very wealthy man. A multimillionaire. That fact had come up again and again in the media stories about him. She wondered if Alan had approached him to invest in some dodgy enterprise.
She didn’t dare ask. Max had given her the impression of being contained—a private person, in spite of his public persona as a love cheat. There were tennis players who threw tantrums, were known for bad behaviour. Not Max. He was renowned for being courteous and well-mannered on the court, the smiling assassin with his killer serve. That first night at the rehearsal, once she’d got over the shock that her groom’s best man was a tennis superstar, she’d found him surprisingly reserved. She’d done her best to make him feel comfortable in a room full of people who were strangers to him. Not that it had been a hardship. Not only was Max heart-stoppingly handsome in that strong, athletic way, he’d also made her laugh with his wry comments about wedding procedure. She’d liked him. A lot.
It was ironic, she thought now, that her groom had turned out to be a stranger
