cold lack of emotion remained in that silver-eyed gaze as she moved first to one side of the T-shaped dais and then the other to show the full effect of the gracefully flowing lines of the back of the gown, her hair glistening like gold against the ivory veil.
Diana held her features composed in the dreamily distant way Charles had wanted from her, her hands steepled together almost in prayer as she walked, the long ivory sleeves ending in a point that reached the knuckle of the third finger of each hand. She had the look of a proudly sacrificial bride.
The silence began to be broken now as some of the women in the audience began to whisper together excitedly, overcome by the majestic beauty.
Diana knew her composure must have slipped slightly as the beautiful redhead sitting to the left of Reece Falcon turned to him and murmured softly, the blue-eyed gaze remaining fixed on Diana as she did so.
The woman had been here from the beginning of the show, but when she laid a slender scarlet-tipped hand on Reece Falcon’s arm as she spoke to him, an act that implied intimacy between them, it was obvious the two of them knew each other very well.
It was the first indication Diana had had that Reece Falcon wasn’t here alone.
It should mean nothing to her, did mean nothing, and yet—— Reece Falcon had had a string of women in his life since his divorce ten years ago, and it was unlikely this one would be any more significant than any of them had been, yet she hadn’t realised he was involved with anyone at the moment…
Before she began that long slow walk back up the catwalk, to the sound of thunderous applause now, she found herself giving the other woman a more searching look. She wasn’t as young as Diana had first thought; she looked to be in her mid to late thirties—very close to Reece Falcon’s own age of thirty-nine—although the professionally artful use of make-up made her initially appear more youthful. Small and delicately made, and expensively dressed in designer-label clothes that Diana instantly recognised as such, the woman was obviously the sophisticated socialite Reece Falcon usually involved himself with. Beautiful as the woman was, she only held half of Reece Falcon’s attention as she spoke to him, the other half being firmly fixed on Diana, and so she doubted the other woman would figure any more prominently in his life than any of those others had over the years.
Diana couldn’t help the slightly contemptuous twist to her lips as she turned to begin the walk back, whatever slight wavering of confidence she had momentarily known disappearing completely as those silver eyes continued to glare up at her; whatever place the beautiful redhead had in his life, she couldn’t completely divert his attention away from Diana!
The congratulations, once she reached the changing-room, from Joanna and the other models, passed over her head as if she was in a dream as she stepped out of the wedding gown to reveal that she wore only skin-coloured panties beneath, her breasts full and rosy-tipped, her body more slender unclothed than it had appeared in the exquisite clothes she had been modelling all week, her legs long and slim, each movement she made unknowingly graceful, her hair at last revealed in all its long shimmering glory as Joanna carefully removed the delicacy of the pure lace veil.
Diana’s attention was held by the bouquet of roses that lay on a table in the corner of the room—today’s offering from Chris, the card attached to them having remained unopened as they had arrived during the rush and bustle of the half an hour before the show began. She had felt no urgency to open the envelope and read the card inside because she had thought it would be the same as the others during the week; two simple words—‘Marry me’. But perhaps this time she had been wrong; surely Chris knew his father was here, in Paris?
She hastily pulled on her robe over her near-nakedness, tying the belt securely about her waist even as she crossed the room to the roses, taking the card from the small white envelope and reading the message there. Those same two words still featured, but underneath, as if added later, was another message. It read, ‘The Falcon is on the hunt.’ They both knew the Falcon was his father. If only she had taken the time to read this card, she would at least have had some warning that Reece Falcon might be here in Paris, if nothing else. She had to accept that he probably knew something of her relationship with Chris too; the fact that he was here, tonight, was surely more than just a coincidence. It would more than explain that glitter-eyed look!
‘Coming to the party?’ Cally appeared at her side, unashamedly attempting to read the card that Diana slowly crushed in her hand, shrugging dismissively at the movement, the babble of voices continuing behind them, everyone obviously relieved that the evening had gone as well as it had and that the week of hard work was over.
With a tiny half-smile of apology, Diana shook her head in the negative. It had been a rhetorical question on Cally’s part anyway; both of them already knew that she wouldn’t go with the others to the huge party being thrown for them all.
‘I thought not,’ Cally grinned with an unoffended shrug. ‘Back to the hotel,’ she guessed, ‘a good night’s sleep. And then back to England on the first available flight in the morning,’ she said knowingly.
Diana’s smile widened at this totally correct assessment of her plans for the next twelve hours, the unguarded smile instantly revealing exactly how young she really was, the heavy make-up she had been wearing for modelling all evening tending to add years as well as the required sophistication.
‘Am I so predictable?’ She shook her head ruefully.
‘I shouldn’t worry about it,’ Cally shrugged dismissively. ‘It only adds to the elusiveness of the Divine Diana image.’
In part, it was only an image, one she had deliberately cultivated over the years. But the truth of the matter was that she didn’t really have any interest in the social side of her profession; she earned her living as a model, but she didn’t feel that meant she had to be on show the whole time.
And so she did her work, a professional to her fingertips, always on time for assignments, never subjecting the people she was working with or for to moods or temper-tantrums, while at the same time keeping her private life very private indeed. Which wasn’t as difficult as it sounded—not when she didn’t go out to the usual round of clubs and restaurants that her colleagues frequented, and so gave the Press no food for gossip. And people rarely connected the young woman shopping in the local supermarket, or walking in the park, with the glamorous model Divine who often adorned their newspapers in one exotically lovely gown or another. It seemed, with her glorious cascade of hair confined at her nape or in a single plait down the length of her spine, her face free of make-up, and barely looking her twenty-one years, that she bore no resemblance then to the beautiful model Divine.
She returned Cally’s smile now. ‘A good night’s sleep sounds a very welcome idea at the moment!’ She was thoroughly exhausted from the hectic pace of the last week, and finding Reece Falcon sitting in the audience for her very last entrance of the week had been much more traumatic on her nerves—and her energy level—than she cared to admit.
But she went in search of Charles before leaving, knowing he would be caught up in the crush of people who wanted to congratulate him on the success of his designs; Charles enjoyed this adulation almost as much as he did putting the collection together in the first place.
Diana almost turned and left without talking to him at all when she saw who he was talking to; Reece Falcon!
Her desire for flight before she was seen was instinctive, self-protective—and, she decided with inner anger at herself, totally cowardly.
‘Ah, Diana!’ Charles smiled warmly as the congratulations she was receiving caught his attention, and
