A cold knife plunged into her heart. In that frozen moment, she knew that he meant Mrs. Rolt Matthews. He had not acknowledged defeat. What's more, Rolt was aware that she knew it even if his brother didn't. It was there in the mocking glint of his eye.
"Drink up, Alanna," Kurt prompted. His hand covered her paralyzed fingers holding the glass and carried it to her lips. The drink was in her mouth before she could stop him.
"Now that I've toasted the future bride, do you object if I dance with her?" Rolt inquired.
"Not at all." Kurt removed his arm from around her shoulders, magnanimously releasing her into his brother's custody.
Don't you see what he's doing? Alanna screamed silently at Kurt. But he merely smiled into her pale face and prodded her in the direction of his older brother, now standing expectantly beside her chair. Feeling abandoned, she rose, frozenly accepting the guiding hand on her back.
The small dance floor was crowded, as was all of the bar. Yet Alanna managed to hold herself stiffly away when Rolt turned her into his arms to begin the slow step to the music. Her fingers were rigid in his hand and her other hand rested on only a small square of his muscular shoulder. She looked sideways at the other couples rather than at her partner.
"All your maneuvering won't work, you know," she murmured beneath her breath. "I do love Kurt and I'm going to marry him."
"Are you?" he countered smoothly.
Alanna flashed him a seething look and clamped her lips tightly shut. It would be a waste of breath to try to convince him—he was too arrogant and conceited to listen. She lapsed into a frigid silence.
"How are your parents?" Rolt asked.
"Fine," she answered icily.
"Are they?" His murmuring voice was filled with knowing doubt.
Alanna missed a step and his arm immediately tightened around her waist. It wasn't a desire for small talk that had prompted his inquiry about her parents. She knew it as surely as she knew her name.
"Why do you say that?" she asked warily.
"I thought your father seemed upset about some. thing when I was there for dinner the other evening." Rolt shrugged in seeming indifference. "Doesn't he approve of Kurt?"
How she hated the complacent glitter in these dark blue eyes! "He thinks very highly of him." Mostly because Kurt was his brother, but Alanna wouldn't admit that to Rolt even on pain of death.
"Do you know what's bothering him?"
"He's concerned about mother," she stated briskly, having no desire to discuss it with him.
"Did he tell you that?"
"Yes, he did."
The crowded dance floor had elbows and shoulders constantly pushing against her, diminishing the precious inches that kept her apart from Rolt. With the loss of each inch, his arm tightened to keep her from regaining it. His muscular thighs were now brushing against her, but her mind was too occupied with the puzzling reasons for his questions to dwell on that.
"Why are you asking all these questions about my parents?" she challenged.
"I was just curious about why your father seemed upset. Of course, if he told you that he was concerned about your mother, then I'm sure that that, must be the reason." His answer was too smooth.
Her breathing became shallow. A tightness gripped her throat. "What do you know that I don't?" she demanded.
Rolt tipped his head to the side. "What makes you think I do?"
"You do know something," she declared with angry certainty. "What is it? I have a right to know."
"I'm sure you do," he agreed.
"Then tell me."
"This is hardly the place for a private discussion." His gaze arced around them.
"I want to know," repeated Alanna.