moment when nobody looked anybody truly in the eye, then Marion noticed Alex’s hand clamped around Jennie’s wrist and what was left of her serene smile melted away. She looked back at Jennie, a question in her eyes. Jennie did her best to send back an SOS, tempted to bat it out in Morse code with her eyelashes. Marion’s head didn’t move, but Jennie saw her agreement in a tiny blink that only went halfway.
Marion stepped forward and offered a hand to Alex, the picture of a gracious hostess—apart from her pinprick pupils. ‘I’m sorry, I know I should be able to put names to faces after all the poring over seating charts and guest lists I’ve done, but with a wedding this size it’s been hard to keep track. Are you one of Alice’s friends?’
Alex didn’t react straight away, unwilling to release his grip on his runaway bride. It was the first time he’d had any physical contact with her in weeks, which certainly hadn’t been what he’d been expecting when he’d booked a romantic honeymoon in Paris as a surprise for his bride-to-be.
He glanced at Jennie, at the open door at the other end of the hotel foyer, and reckoned he had a ninety-nine per cent chance of snaring her again if she bolted the minute he let go. With anyone else he’d have estimated a hundred per cent chance, but this was Jennie—a woman with a gift for the unpredictable.
How different it had been the last time he’d touched her, when he’d woken her and told her about the call that had lit up his mobile phone in the early hours of the morning, of the family emergency that was about to change his life for ever. She’d been warm and fuzzy with sleep, and she’d pulled him back to kiss him before he left and they’d said their goodbyes with the keen sense of desperation only newly-weds truly understood.
He peeled his hand from around Jennie’s wrist and felt cool air fill his palm as she snatched her hand away.
He’d promised her he’d be back as soon as possible and, even though that had been much longer than either of them had anticipated, he’d kept his word. But she hadn’t believed him.
That had stung. It had also pulled the loose end of a string of doubts that had been unravelling in him ever since. Surely, if his wife knew anything about him at all, she knew he was a man who kept his word, honoured his commitments. It was part of the reason he was here tracking her down.
While in his darkest moments he’d wanted to wash his hands and walk away from this whole mess, he couldn’t do that. Or at least he wouldn’t be able to do that with a clear conscience until he found out that there truly was no way forward. And, to do that, he needed to discover why Jennie had so little faith in him, and why she hadn’t kept her side of the bargain.
He wasn’t the only one who’d made promises. They both had. But it had seemed he’d picked a wife who’d struggled to keep them for much more than a week. Heat flashed behind his eyes, spiking through him. Why had she let him make the most life-altering, soul-wrenching promises a man could make to a woman if she didn’t trust him to keep them?
‘Marion Hunter,’ the woman in front of him said, startling him a little.
Jennie had mentioned her stepmother a lot during their brief relationship, always with affection and respect. Marion’s hand was delicate, but her shake was firm and Alex knew instantly that he liked her. She was no pushover, no matter how cultured and elegant she seemed.
He’d been so consumed with finding Jennie that he realised he hadn’t thought about anything past that, his mind a carousel of all the imagined excuses she’d have for her abominable behaviour. He hadn’t even considered what he’d say or do if he met a member of her family this evening, and that just wasn’t like him—he always saw the big picture, always planned ahead.
What had she told them when she’d returned from her honeymoon on her own? Especially when she’d eloped to Las Vegas with a man they hadn’t even met.
Marion Hunter scowled slightly as she slid her hand from his. He’d bet Jennie hadn’t painted him in a flattering light. But that didn’t matter. He didn’t care about being the villain; he just wanted answers.
He’d been so caught up in his own thoughts he realised he hadn’t even opened his mouth to speak, and now he rectified his lack of manners. ‘Alex Dangerfield,’ he said, with a hint of a smile in his eyes, even if it didn’t reach his mouth. But Marion Hunter looked at him blankly, as if the name meant nothing to her, and he guessed that as the scowl lines on her forehead returned she was mentally scanning guest lists, seeking a match. He decided to help her out.
‘Jennie’s hu—’
‘Half!’ yelled Jennie beside him, suddenly springing into life. She was smiling brightly, and her outburst had been one of her usual exuberant declarations, but there had been a tinge of desperation in the tone, a hint of a squeak because she’d pitched it too high. Marion just looked puzzled.
‘What I mean is…’ She took a deep breath. ‘Alex is my other half, my…my new… man,’ she finished lamely, all the energy and life whooshing out of her like air out of a balloon. Then she grabbed his hand and squeezed it, attempted to mould herself to his rigid side.
‘We had an argument, and I thought Alex wasn’t going to be able to make it, but he did, and at first I was shocked, but now I’m so pleased—really pleased.’
And then she looked up at him, her eyes begging, and the truth hit Alex like one of those cartoon ten ton weights that always landed on the stooge’s head and squashed him flat. Because that was what he was—Jennie’s stooge.
She hadn’t told them. Hadn’t even thought to mention the trivial matter of finding someone to spend the rest of her life with. How stupid of him to have expected otherwise.
Any pleasure at meeting Jennie’s stepmother evaporated in a blistering cloud of rage. That was all he was to his wife—an insignificant detail.
Well, he didn’t care what her family thought, didn’t care what hot water his presence here got her into. He wasn’t going to waste any more time.
Ignoring her stepmother, he turned to Jennie. ‘I need to talk to you. Now.’
Her eyes widened almost imperceptibly, and the fake smile she was wearing hollowed out.
‘I…I…’
She was saved from answering by a staggering group of rowdy wedding guests spilling from the banqueting hall into the foyer. They crowded round Jennie and her stepmother, talking loudly about what a smashing wedding it had been, and how they were having the time of their lives. Jennie started to edge away, but he made sure he stuck right by her side. He wasn’t going to even blink until he got her talking. Taking one’s eyes off this woman for an instant was a mistake.
‘It’s not a good time,’ she said, her eyes large and appealing. ‘How about tomorrow? We can talk in the morning—when everyone has calmed down.’
He just looked at her. Did she think he was that much of a mug?
Marion had escaped the throng of well-wishers and closed the distance between them. ‘Everything okay?’ she said lightly, her eagle eyes missing nothing.
Jennie bit her lip and nodded furiously, but he guessed her stepmother wasn’t fooled for a second. She looked suspiciously at him and he returned her gaze, candour in his eyes. He didn’t have anything to hide, did he? It was his shallow-hearted wife who needed to worry about bothersome things like the truth. Marion looked as if she wanted
