He hadn’t tried to see her once throughout the day, and since Jordana had set up a mini-beauty salon upstairs in her wing of the house she hadn’t had time to see him either. Not that she’d wanted to.
What she was secretly hoping was that he would be glad she was keeping her distance and not make a big deal of it. He might even be happy about it. The last thing a man like Tristan Garrett wanted was a woman to go all starry-eyed over him. Or, even worse, over his precious title!
Which reminded her of how Jordana had said that Tristan was to be partnered with Lady Amanda Sutton at the wedding. A woman Lily had met at lunch earlier that day, who was charming, titled, and completely enamoured of Jordana’s brother. Something Tristan hadn’t told her about last night while he’d been making love to her!
‘What was that, dear?’
‘Nothing.’ Lily smiled pleasantly at Oliver’s mother from behind her champagne flute.
Lily let her anger at Tristan’s subterfuge course through her. Maybe it was illogical, and maybe even a little unfair seeing as how he wasn’t actually dating Amanda Sutton but Lily didn’t care. She didn’t feel logical right now. Or fair. She felt hurt and stupid and…empty.
Tristan had been magnificent last night. Strong, gentle, masterful, funny—every woman’s ideal man come to life. Only he wasn’t…or at least he wasn’t her ideal man. Not that her body seemed to be getting that message. Even now it yearned for her to turn, seek him out, as if he was truly hers to touch and talk with. To laugh with and…
Oh, stop mooning, Lily!
It was time to smile and behave like the perfect maid of honour during the evening’s festivities, and to do that she’d clearly have to make sure that any interactions she had with Tristan were later rather than sooner.
Which, okay, wasn’t exactly facing her fears head-on—but one step at a time. Come Sunday she’d fly home and lick her wounds. Regroup. Forget Tristan Garrett.
‘Lady Grove, Sarah, Talia.’ Tristan’s deep voice resonated directly behind her. ‘Do you mind if I borrow the maid of honour for a moment?’
‘Of course not,’ Lady Grove murmured. ‘I’m sure you both have final touches to go over before tomorrow.’
‘Absolutely.’ Tristan smiled. ‘Lily?’
Okay, so sooner was probably a good thing. It would mean she could relax for the rest of the night. Or not, she thought as she turned towards Tristan and saw him dressed in a black tuxedo.
Oh, Lord, but he was sublime. And he’d had his hair cut. The mid-length layers framed his masculine features to perfection.
Lily couldn’t suppress a shiver of awareness as he took her arm and led her across the polished marble floor to a far corner of the room. Fixing a pleasant smile on her face, she subtly broke free of his hold.
At least this was one scenario she’d had time to plan for. No tears, no tantrums, she reminded herself. No matter how much she felt as if she was falling apart inside.
She lifted her glass to her lips and glanced around the room at the other guests, as if she didn’t have a care in the world. But Tristan squared off in front of her, his broad shoulders effectively blocking her view and giving her nowhere else to look but directly at him.
‘If you think you’re sitting next to Hamish Blackstone tonight you’ve got another thing coming,’ he ground out between clenched teeth.
Lily blinked, wide-eyed at his fervent tone. She had no idea what he was talking about.
Tristan knew he had surprised Lily with the dark vehemence in his voice. Hell, he’d shocked himself.
He’d known as soon as he’d laid eyes on her that she was miffed, and he planned to find out what was bothering her and fix it.
He’d thought maybe she was upset that he hadn’t brought her tea up this morning. Or hadn’t sought her out during the day. Both theories he’d have put money on, but now he knew she’d taken umbrage at his tone as well, and logically he couldn’t blame her.
‘Excuse me?’ she said with icy disdain.
Yep, she was definitely annoyed with him.
‘You heard.’ No way was he backing down now. She had to know she wasn’t sitting next to anyone but him tonight.
‘But maybe you didn’t,’ she said stiffly. ‘I’m no longer under your protective custody any more. You’re free to get on with your own life. Get on with Lady Sutton.’
Tristan’s eyes narrowed. ‘What does Amanda have to do with this?’
‘She’s your guest at the wedding.’
Tristan shoved his hands in his pockets and relaxed back on his heels. She was jealous. Hell, he hadn’t even come up with that one