‘I’ll scream if you don’t!’
Christien removed his hand with a flourish. ‘This is insane. You know how it has been between us from the minute we met again.’
‘Lust!’ Tabby fired at him in disgust.
Tears were threatening to flood her eyes when she returned to the ballroom. Sean stopped in front of her. ‘What’s up? Are you all right?’
‘Dance with me,’ she begged.
The music was slow and Sean groaned. ‘I’m no good at these ones.’
Tabby wrapped her arms round his neck and mumbled, ‘Just shuffle.’
‘Have you had a row with Christien?’
‘Why would you think that?’
‘Oh, no good reason…just he’s standing at the edge of the floor looking furious with both hands clenched into fists as if I’m making a pass at you,’ Sean said.
‘Ignore him.’
‘He’s a big guy and hard to ignore. He is also very jealous. I noticed that the first time I met him. If I let a single finger stray, he’ll haul me off the floor and kill me, so try not to stumble or do anything that he might misinterpret.’ Sean sighed.
‘He’s not jealous…why would he be jealous of me?’
‘Possibly because he’s one of those intense types who goes overboard when he falls in love—’
‘In love?’ A sour little laugh fell from Tabby’s lips.
‘He’s been bitten deep by it too. Doesn’t like to see you laughing with another bloke either,’ Sean remarked even more uneasily, holding her back from him at a careful and circumspect distance.
The minute the music paused, Christien strode up and Sean released her with patent relief. Tabby collided with scorching golden eyes and twisted her head away, but Christien was too fast for her and he drew her close.
‘I know you’re angry with me…but don’t start flirting with other guys—’
The champagne was bubbling through her like petrol hitting a bonfire. ‘I’ll do as I like!’
Christien closed his arms round her. ‘Fais ce que je dis…do as I say. Stay calm—’
‘I want to scream at you,’ she gasped chokily.
‘Scream all you like…just don’t flirt. It drives me crazy—’
‘How can you act jealous of me after the way you’ve behaved? When did you get engaged to her?’ Tabby snapped at him like a bristling cat ready to pounce on prey.
; ‘We should talk about this when you’ve sober—’
‘Are you suggesting I’m drunk?’
‘No, I’m doing you the justice of assuming that you only screech when you’ve had too much champagne,’ Christien murmured tautly.
‘Answer my question—’
‘We got engaged six months ago. It was—’
Tabby lifted her arms and brought them down to break his hold. Frozen-faced and rigid-backed, she walked away. The last hour of the party seemed to fly. Later she could not have said whom she spoke to or what she said, but her cheekbones ached with the smile she kept glued in place. Six months, was all she could think in an agony of jealous hurt. Six months!