But what was he so anxious to do tonight, “before we spoke our vows”?
It didn’t matter. He’d promised he’d never break my heart again. It couldn’t be another woman or anything like that. He was probably just planning a surprise for me. Like a wedding gift. When I saw it in the morning, I’d have a good laugh at my own fears. Getting married should mean that I could trust him. I never needed to feel insecure again. Right?
It’s nothing. Just one last thing I want to do before I say my marriage vows.
Oh, this was ridiculous. I was only four blocks away from my stepfather’s house in Beverly Hills when I banged on the steering wheel in irritation, then yelped as the big diamond cut sharply into my hand. Sucking my finger, I pulled over.
Forget this. I was going back to Malibu to find out what he was hiding from me. If it was some awesome wedding gift, I’d hate myself later for wrecking the surprise.
I flipped my car around, heading back west, toward Malibu.
Thirty minutes later, I was turning down Edward’s small street, when I saw an expensive SUV pull ahead of me. It was going way too fast down the lane. Idiot, I thought. Then to my shock, it pulled haphazardly into Edward’s driveway. A woman leapt out of the driver’s seat. But not just any woman.
It was Victoria. The beautiful, vicious wife of Edward’s cousin, Rupert. Dressed in a tight, sexy red cocktail dress and six-inch high heels.
I forced myself to keep driving slowly, past the cottage without stopping. But in my rearview mirror, I saw the cottage door open. Edward welcomed her swiftly inside.
Then the door closed behind them.
A horn honked ahead of me, and I swerved just in time to avoid crashing into opposing traffic. Cold sweat covered my body. This was what he wanted to do before he spoke marriage vows?
A bachelor party for two?
I remembered Victoria’s earlier words: I wanted him so badly, I would have done anything to get into his bed. Anything.
Numbly, I turned back on the highway, back toward Los Angeles.
There had to be some rational reason for Victoria to be with Edward tonight. Something beyond the obvious. But as I tried to come up with a reason, all I could think about was that Edward had never claimed to love me. Not in all this time. He’d said he wanted us to marry for the baby’s sake. And that he wanted me in his bed.
He hadn’t yet promised fidelity. So it wasn’t like he’d broken any vows. No. The only promise he’d broken was when he’d said he would never break my heart.
Why was Victoria there, alone with him in the house? Why would she visit him so late at night, wearing a skintight red dress? Why was she even in California at all?
I wiped my eyes savagely.
Traffic was light, late as it was, and I soon pulled past the gate of Howard’s white colonial house. I saw Madison’s expensive red convertible parked in the driveway. A car as red and wicked and expensive as Victoria St. Cyr’s dress as she’d snuck in for a private tête-à-tête with the man I was supposed to marry tomorrow.
My legs trembled as I walked inside the house. Inside the large, lavish kitchen, I saw Howard and Madison sitting at the table, smiling and talking. But in this moment, I couldn’t deal with it. I started to walk past the kitchen, but she saw me. She rose to her feet, her face serious.
“Diana,” she said quietly. “It’s good to see you again.”
I stopped, clenching my hands at my sides. Madison looked tanner, a little weathered, her cheeks a little fuller. No makeup. No false eyelashes. Her blond hair was lightened by sun. She was wearing a white cotton T-shirt, jeans and flip-flops.
“You look—different,” I said slowly.
“And you look pregnant.” She smiled. “Dad told me you and Edward are back together....”