the day. “No. But he’s determined to be...something.” How could she elaborate without giving away her secret?
Bernard frowned. “You’re my date.”
“Yes.”
“Is he watching you?” Bernard pressed.
The question threw her for a moment. “Um...yes. Why do you ask that?”
His grin reappeared along with a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “Well...do you want to send a clear message that we’re together?” he probed as she continued to stare at him.
Her eyes widened, her mind darting in several random directions. Did she? What if she pissed Luc off enough to jeopardize her position at the Marshall household? Her job meant everything to her. She didn’t want to lose it. “Uh... I don’t think...”
“Relax. I’m not suggesting anything risqué. And the last thing I want to do is embarrass you, but I really want to kiss you again.” He leaned forward, and his soft lips were on hers.
Dios mío! He was a good kisser. They’d gone out several times after striking up a conversation over the past six months when he’d started delivering the exclusive brand of bottled water the Marshalls preferred to have on hand at Casa Cat.
Finally coming up for air, Bernard asked, “Do you trust me?”
“Sure,” she answered, slightly breathless.
He laughed. “You could sound a little more convincing, but...look, just go with the flow, okay?”
Vanessa wondered if she wasn’t risking jumping from the frying pan straight into the fire. Before she could make up her mind one way or the other, Bernard dragged her closer, clamped his hand on her hip and began to move to the unmistakable rhythm of a tango.
It was the last thing she’d expected. So much so, her mouth dropped open for an inelegant second before her ingrained rhythm kicked into place. Another second later, she was moving with him and they were flowing together as if they’d been practicing for years.
They cut a swath through the crowd, keeping up with one another’s flicks and kicks as the music pulsed around them.
Halfway through the routine, Bernard grinned. “This is so awesome. I’m so glad the dance lessons my sister forced me to take for her wedding last year are paying off. At the time I was seriously weirded out that I’d have to dance the tango at my sister’s wedding, but now...jackpot!”
The boyish pleasure on his face drew a belly laugh from Vanessa. He joined in a second later, right before he lowered her over his arm in a melodramatic dip.
Around them, heads turned. Vanessa’s smile began to dim as she realized they were drawing multiple stares. Suddenly self-conscious that she might be making a spectacle of herself, her stomach rolled in anxiety, and her fingers tightened in Bernard’s grip. When her next step faltered, he smoothly directed her.
“No, don’t let them get to you. We’re putting on a show, remember?”
She suppressed the urge to bite her lip and took a breath. Gave a small nod.
“That’s my girl,” he breathed in her ear, as he swung her round and carried on dancing.
Again, as if by drawn by the magnet of her mind, there he was right in her direct line of vision. This time he was staring at her with something close to censure in his eyes. As if she’d done something wrong. As if she’d hurt him.
The vise around her heart tightened unbearably. The last thing she wanted was to hurt him. Or any of the Marshalls.
She’d arrived in Santa Barbara five years ago with no money and very little hope except for the mere scraps of information that held her world together. The Marshall family, Mariella especially, had given her a start and elevated her to the status of trusted employee. The secret she held in her heart had the potential to sink all of the mega yachts her employers owned, but until she was sure of her facts, she needed to keep it to herself.
And in this instance, keeping it to herself also meant hurting Luc. It meant letting him think the worst of her. Vanessa swallowed the hurt that rose again. Telling herself this thing had risen out of nowhere and almost immediately gotten out of control was a poor excuse. Although nothing untoward had happened, she should still have nipped it in the bud long before now.
Now the man who, for the moment, could be nothing more than her employer stared at her with condemning eyes. And she had to take it. Because what other choice did she have?
None.
Because what Luc Marshall had no idea of was that if she gave in to his pleas, he was in danger of committing incest with his half sister.
Elana stepped off the dance floor with Thom, their loosely linked fingers holding them together as they crossed the beautifully decorated room. They stopped every now and then to chat with guests, accept more congratulations and give promises to get together soon with other married couples.
A cynical part of her laughed at the thought. So the women no longer thought her a threat to their marriages now that she herself was married. She supposed that was a plus.
She smiled as her new parents-in-law, Samuel and Caroline Scott, approached them.
“Do you mind terribly if we steal your husband away for a few minutes, my dear? There’s someone I’m dying to introduce him to,” Thom’s mother said with a wide smile, although the steel in her eyes told Elana she wouldn’t be taking no for an answer.
Elana had realized very quickly after first meeting Caroline that she wore the pants in the Scott household.
She nodded gracefully. Although she should’ve felt a little pissed at being excluded, she let it go. All this couplehood was great. Up to a point. She could do with a breather herself, even if this was her wedding. “Not at all. As long as you promise to return him soon.”
“Of course I will,” Caroline laughed. “Promise.”
“Save me another dance, my sweet. I’ll be right back.” Thom drew their fingers to his mouth and kissed her knuckles before he let his parents lead him away.
Elana turned in the opposite direction, relief surging through her as she realized her smile didn’t feel forced anymore. The tension headache that had threatened her earlier had eased considerably. As had that tight band of anxiety and unease that had gripped her for months now. The serious case of prewedding jitters had finally disappeared.
That certainly called for a celebration.
She saw Thom’s tuxedoed personal waiter heading for him with refreshments a second before her own personal waiter, drafted by her mother to serve only her, stopped in front of her with a single glass of champagne set on highly polished sterling silver tray.
Used to beautiful things as she was, Elana should’ve been blasé about the spectacular offer the waiter presented her with. But even she was awed right now as she paused for a moment to study the exquisite cut of the champagne glass and the four impressively large diamonds
