a plate of filet mignon, scalloped potatoes and julienne mixed vegetables were replacing their empty bowls.
“I like a woman who’s not afraid to enjoy her food,” Elijah remarked.
Her hand stopped in midair. “I’m sorry if I appear to be a pig. I’ve missed far too many meals in the last few days.”
“I didn’t mean to insult you. It’s just nice to see a female who doesn’t eat like a bird.” He grinned. “I missed a few of those meals too.”
“You’ve been dating too many women who were hoping to impress you,” Helena quipped.
He raised a brow. “Which you aren’t trying to do. I had no idea you were paying any attention to my social life.”
Helena lowered her chin, giving him an indignant look. “I don’t. I’ve heard talk of your exploits.”
He chuckled. “Exploits.”
“Sounds like it didn’t take Helena long to peg you as a commitment-phobe.” Penny grinned across the table at him.
Elijah shrugged, appearing unashamed.
Penny’s statement and Elijah’s reaction just confirmed what Helena already knew. Even if they had been thrown together tonight, and how handsome and charming Elijah was, he wasn’t a good choice for her. She’d experienced bone-deep hurt before, was determined she wouldn’t go through it again, and she wasn’t going to let Elijah slip under that fence. Tomorrow her reaction to him would be back to normal—that being none.
The tapping on glass once more brought the crowd to silence. This time Elijah’s father stood next to the table he shared with Grace’s father. A low groan came from Elijah. Was he feeling ill? She looked over her shoulder at him. The dessert fork he fiddled with held his attention.
“I would like to say how happy Vanessa and I are to welcome Grace into our family,” Hugo Davenport said in a booming voice.
Helena had never met the patriarch of the family but she was aware of his larger-than-life presence around the hospital. He was even more impressive in person.
“Family is everything,” the older man continued.
This time she distinctly heard a low expletive from Elijah as he shifted in his chair. His leg tugged her dress and she reached down to move it. At the same time Elijah settled and his hand covered hers for a second. Electricity zipped through her. Her look jerked to his. When their eyes locked his anger quickly faded and was replaced by something she couldn’t identify. A second later he removed his hand but his thigh remained pressed against hers as he settled deeper into his chair.
She looked at his father but her attention remained on Elijah. For some reason she had the idea she was a lifeline for him at the moment. That he needed this sexual tension between them to focus on instead of his father. When Hugo Davenport finished speaking the stiffness in his son’s body eased. Elijah no longer touched her.
Soon the bride’s cake was rolled out into the center of the dance floor. Grace and Charles went out to cut it. With the flash of the photographer’s camera they cut and shared a bite, smiling at each other. The wait staff brought champagne in silver buckets for each of the tables. At the same moment they released the caps. A pop, pop, pop filled the air.
The silverware and glasses rattling jolted Helena’s look away from the bride and groom to her tablemates. Zac’s head was down almost completely under the table. A few seconds later he straightened. His jaw was tight and his mouth drawn into a straight line. There was a dark, glazed expression in his eyes.
“Uh, sorry. I dropped my napkin. Hit my head underneath the table,” Zac muttered. He looked more anxious than he did embarrassed.
A light tap on her shoulder made Helena glance around to see the wedding director holding a microphone. Heavens, she had forgotten she would have to make a toast.
Swallowing hard, she stood and lifted her glass. “To Grace and Charles. I wish for you a happily ever after.” With that she lifted her glass to her lips and took a sip. The other wedding guests joined her.
She turned and offered the microphone to Elijah. Smiling, she said softly, “Now it’s your turn.”
“Why am I not surprised with your choice of toast?” he hissed, before he raised the microphone to his mouth. He paused as if giving what he was going to say deep thought. “Charles, I’m glad you found Grace. Grace, take care of him. He is the better half of me. Love him, he deserves it. I wish you both the best.” Lifting his glass, Elijah drained the liquid. Done, he gave the wedding director the microphone and took his seat.
The crowd erupted in applause.
Helena leaned toward Elijah. “Very nice.”
He grinned, the first genuine one he’d had in a while. “I bet you didn’t think I had it in me.”
There was no chance for her to comment before a waiter placed a plate with cake on it in front of her. While taking a bite, she glanced at Zac. He still looked on edge. Before she finished her dessert, he excused himself from the table. Did all the Davenports have some issue?
With the toasts completed and the cake served, a small ensemble in one corner of the tent struck up the first tune of the evening. Charles led Grace onto the dance floor and into a waltz. Grace looked radiant, having only eyes for her new husband. Helena sighed. That was what she wanted. A real relationship. To be so in love that nothing they faced together would be impossible.
“You’re drinking all this in, aren’t you?” Elijah said as he leaned in close behind her.
“They look so in love.” Even she heard the dreamy note in her voice.
“So it appears,” Elijah said dryly.
She twisted toward him. “You don’t believe in love?”
Elijah said flatly, “I’m not sure I know what it is.”
Helena considered him for a moment. “How sad.” She noticed a flicker of insecurity in his eyes before she turned back to watch Grace and Charles.
The song ended and another began. The wedding director came up beside them and spoke softly to Elijah.
“It’s time for us to join the bride and groom.” Elijah stood and offered his hand to Helena.
She looked at it. What would it be like, being held by him? The thought sent a flash of sensual current through her she wasn’t comfortable with but couldn’t ignore. Her gaze met his. There was a spark of a dare in his eyes. Something about his expression had her fearing she might be accepting more than a dance.
Elijah grinned. “It looks like the work of a bridesmaid and best man is never done.”
Her hand touched his. It was large, smooth, and solid. His long, tapered fingers surrounded hers. With a gentle tug, he helped her to her feet. His hand rested lightly at her waist as she moved ahead of him toward the dance floor. She shivered.
“Don’t worry, you’ll be warm enough in a minute,” he whispered from close beside her.
That’s what she was afraid of. Her over-the-top reaction
