the name had been vaguely familiar. But she’d had no idea of what a handsome man Sterling Perry’s son had become.
She hadn’t been blind to the man’s good looks when they’d crossed paths at Farrah’s. But she and Mason had just called the wedding off. She hadn’t even taken her ring off yet. So how incredibly handsome he’d been was merely an observation. But standing there at the bar with him, she couldn’t help being drawn in by his charm.
Roarke looked striking in his tuxedo and he smelled divine. So good that she’d wanted to press her nose to his neck and take a whiff of his woodsy, masculine scent.
Even now, she wasn’t sure what had possessed her to kiss him.
It was innocent enough, as kisses went. Still, it had sent a shiver down her spine, making her want another and another.
Annabel glanced over at the table where Roarke sat with his sister. After the paternity test, her father hadn’t been up to seeing Angela again yet. And Annabel didn’t want to push him.
He and Angela were right for each other, she was sure of it. But each of them needed to reach that conclusion on their own.
Her phone buzzed in her clutch and she checked the caller ID.
Mason.
Mason Harrison was the last person in the world she wanted to speak to. She sent the call to voice mail, then tossed the phone back in her bag.
It rang twice more, so finally she answered it.
“You’re screening my calls.” Mason’s words were clipped. His voice vibrated with annoyance, much as it had the day she’d taken him to Fairy Godmother.
“I’d say that’s standard ex-fiancée behavior. Wouldn’t you?”
“Is it also standard to send your ex an itemized bill?”
A wide smile spread across her face. It almost made her wish she’d been standing in the room with him when he’d opened the invoice.
“When you suddenly call off an engagement less than sixty days before the wedding because of your archaic, misogynistic notions about marriage rather than making a compromise...yes. It certainly should be. Why should I be stuck with all of these expenses when it was you who changed your mind?”
“I’m not paying for the stuff on this list, Annabel. Not any of it. And I have no intention of compromising on that, either.”
Mason ended the call and she was glad. Less than five minutes on the phone with him and she was tense and anxious.
She would never admit it to him, but she should thank Mason Harrison for saving her from certain misery.
Annabel set her empty martini glass on the bar and moved toward the ballroom, mingling with the crowd. She’d wanted to delay the inevitable questions about the canceling of her engagement, but in their circles, news traveled quickly. Bad news, especially.
She put on her biggest smile, tipped her chin and made her way directly toward dear sweet, kindhearted, generous-to-a-fault Lavinia Cardwell. The gossip queen among Houston’s filthy rich and influential set.
Why spend her night retelling the story of her and Mason’s breakup when she could just tell Lavinia and watch her work her magic instead?
Besides, with the heat of Roarke’s stare warming her skin, she could think of much better ways to spend the evening.
* * *
Roarke listened politely to the conversation around him, nodding when appropriate. But his mind kept drifting to the stunning beauty in the slate blue dress who moved about the room. She was all easiness and smiles. Giving no indication that she’d been unceremoniously dumped not too long ago.
And though he’d tried his best to be subtle as he’d sought a glimpse of her now and again, it seemed that she caught him staring nearly every time.
“You’re quite taken with Annabel Currin,” Angela whispered as she gently elbowed him below the table. “Not that I blame you. She’s a very pretty girl. And there’s something about her that makes her ridiculously charming. I never understood what she saw in the snobby exec that works for her father.”
“Her ex works for Currin Oil?” He raised a brow as he turned to face his sister. “Breaking the heart of the boss’s little girl seems like a bad career move.”
“Especially one rumored to have his sights set on being CEO of the company one day. If you ask me, marrying the boss’s daughter was his way of ensuring that it happened.”
“The guy sounds like a real gem.” Roarke gritted his teeth. “Looks like he did Annabel a favor by backing out of the wedding.”
“Some would agree.” Angela glanced over at Annabel, who seemed to be reassuring some overly concerned older woman that she was just fine. “Myself included.”
“If the guy is so awful, why’d she agree to marry him in the first place?”
“Because he’s all charm and polish on the outside. You don’t taste the worm and rot until you’ve taken a healthy bite of the apple.” Angela opened her purse and took a peek into her compact. She looked up from her reflection and regarded his slack-jawed expression. “Don’t look so surprised, little brother. I’ve known guys like that. In fact, I’ve dated more than a few. And in some ways—”
“You could just as easily be describing our father,” he muttered.
Sterling Perry was all flash and no substance. Their mother had married him because of that charm and a desire to please her father, who’d considered them a good match. She’d remained in their unhappy marriage for the sake of her children.
Roarke was glad Annabel hadn’t met a similar fate. Though the spirited young woman he’d sparred with tonight certainly didn’t strike him as someone who would suffer in silence in a miserable marriage.
Perhaps her ex had come to realize that, too.
His gaze drifted toward Annabel again. Despite knowing all of the reasons he should be content to admire her from a distance, Roarke eagerly anticipated his next encounter with Annabel Currin.
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