Paige laughed. ‘I won’t let Alan out of my sight, once he shows up.’
‘Shows up, indeed. Where’s he gone to?’
‘The airport. I only half heard the story. Some last-minute arrival’s just come in, and apparently Alan was so delighted to hear about it that he decided to fetch him himself.’
‘The mysterious brother, perhaps?’
Paige shrugged. ‘Maybe. All I know is I’ve been left here to hold down the fort. Believe me,’ she laughed, ‘Alan’s going to pay for… oh, God!’
The words were a choked whisper. Her mother turned to her in surprise.
‘Paige? What is it? You’re white as a sheet.’
‘I… nothing. Nothing. I just…’
Paige could hear herself stammering, saying words that made no sense. But it was a miracle she could speak at all, she thought, staring across the crowded room. He was here. The stranger, the man she’d let make love to her two nights before—he was here, a guest in the Fowler home, a guest at her rehearsal dinner. He hadn’t seen her yet; he was standing at the far end of the room, alone, holding a glass in his hand. She watched as someone stopped beside him—a woman, young, lovely, her face tilted smilingly up to his. He nodded, said something, but there was no answering smile. The woman spoke again, saying something else, but he seemed to be barely listening.
‘Paige, will you please answer me? What’s wrong?’
She drew her gaze from him and looked at her mother. ‘I… nothing,’ she said carefully. ‘I just thought I saw… I saw someone I went to school with, that’s all. Someone I… I never dreamed I’d see again.’ Smile, she told herself fiercely. But, when she did, her lips felt glued to her teeth.
Her mother put her hand to her heart and laughed. ‘You gave me quite a start, dear. I thought you’d seen a ghost. Well, why don’t you go over and say hello? I’ll just go find Mrs Fowler.’ She laughed again. ‘Maybe our handful of guests has shown up and we won’t feel so outnumbered.’
‘Yes, fine. I’ll just… I’ll find you in a few minutes, Mother.’
By then, I’ll have thought up some excuse for leaving… But that would only postpose the inevitable. If he was here tonight, it was likely he’d be at the wedding tomorrow. What to do, what to do? What if she simply walked up to him, offered her apologies for her disreputable behaviour? What if she begged for his silence, for his understanding…
He’d seen her! Paige’s heart stood still. Everything around her faded as the man’s eyes met hers. His face grew dark, his lips narrow. The woman beside him was still talking, still smiling, and suddenly he shoved his glass into her hand and brushed past her. Paige knew, as surely as she knew he was coming straight for her, that he would never accept either her apologies or her pleas for understanding.
But he wouldn’t make a scene, not in front of all these people. No, she told herself, no, he wouldn’t… She watched as he moved rapidly through the crowd, rudely shouldering people out of his way if they didn’t step aside quickly enough. His eyes were locked on her face, unwavering pools of icy fire. The first image she’d had of him returned to her, and her pulse began to race. Tonight, the lion had no intention of waiting for the wildebeest to come near. He was the killer—and she was his prey.
How could she have let herself think he wouldn’t make a scene? He was capable of anything—her heart thudded into her throat and she turned wildly and began to run. She heard a peal of nervous laughter as she spun past surprised faces. She thought fleetingly of how impossible it was going to be to try and explain this to Alan. But she had seen the savagery in the stranger’s eyes, and all that mattered at this moment was getting away from him. She fled from the sitting room, into the darkness of the rest of the house, trying to remember where the rear door led.
He caught her just as she was halfway through it. She tried to slam the door in his face, but he was far too strong for her. The door glanced off his shoulder, and then he was past it, reaching for her, grasping her by the shoulders with hands that bit into her flesh like talons.
‘Let go of me!’ she gasped, trying to twist free of him. ‘Damn you…’
He kicked the door closed. ‘Did you really think you could get away from me?’ His voice was low and filled with rage.
‘I told you to let go of me. How dare you treat me like this? I…’
‘Shut up,’ he said, slipping his arm around her shoulders.
She struggled against him as he began
to draw her away from the house. ‘Where are you taking me?’ she demanded. ‘I…’
‘I’m taking you to the summer house,’ he said grimly, half lifting her dragging feet from the ground. ‘I don’t need a whole damned houseful of people out here staring at me.’
‘It’s a little late to worry about that, don’t you think? A few minutes ago…’
‘You’re the one who ran,’ he said, pulling her up the wooden steps that led into the trellised gazebo that stood far
to the rear of the Fowler lawn.
‘Of course I ran. You looked as if you… as if you…’
He grasped her shoulders with a roughness that made her gasp. ‘As if what?’ he growled, staring down at her.