And the Bride Wore Black

‘Oh.’ She tried to remember exactly what she had said and then winced as she did so. ‘I see.’

‘I see?’ He glared at her. ‘Is that the best you can do?’

‘Look, I can explain—’ Fabia stopped suddenly. No, she couldn’t explain, not even to herself. What madness had possessed her to take on someone as powerful as Alexander Cade?

‘I’m almost tempted to let you try,’ he said smoothly.

He was aware of her discomfiture and loving every minute of it, Fabia thought furiously, her eyes shooting daggers.

‘Instead we’ll cut through the nonsense and I’ll tell you what I’ve come for. But not here.’ He glanced round him as though her home was distasteful to him. Which it probably was, she thought bitterly, in view of the indulgent splendour in which he normally lived.

‘If you’ve got anything to say to me you say it here and now, Mr Cade,’ Fabia said angrily. ‘And for the record I’m not going anywhere with you. Not now, not ever.’

‘Think again.’ The two words were loaded with menance.

‘On your bike, mister!’ She would not be intimidated or threatened in her own home. She would not!

‘On your bike?’ He repeated her words with a trace of amusement lightening the dark face. ‘It’s been years since I had a bike, Miss Grant,’ he said mockingly.

‘Now that I can believe,’ she said stonily. ‘Born with a silver spoon, the original spoiled brat, am I right?’

‘Would you believe me if I said no?’ he asked in a tone to match hers, his eyes narrowing as she shook her head firmly. ‘No, I thought not, so I’ll save my breath.’ He walked through to the kitchen, turning off the grill as he did so and peering at the charred remains of the chop. ‘Was that your dinner?’

‘This is my dinner, yes,’ she said coldly. ‘Not quite up to your pretentious standards of smoked caviare and oysters maybe, but it suits me.’

‘What a nasty prickly little inverted snob you are, Miss Grant,’ he said slowly. ‘Are you always this obnoxious?’ His eyes wandered in insulting appraisal over her slender figure, resting for a moment on the full high breasts before continuing up to her hot angry face. ‘Such a shame, when the exterior promises so much,’ he added meaningfully.

‘I don’t promise anything,’ she said furiously, longing to reach up and smack the coolness from his handsome face but not quite having the courage. How dared he? How dared he? He had done nothing but criticise her home since he came in and now he was doing the same to her.

‘Look, it’s obvious you think this place is a dump, so why don’t you just leave?’ she said flatly, forcing all emotion out of her voice by sheer willpower. ‘You’ve made your point, you’re omnipotent, the all-powerful one, you found me against all the odds and I’m suitably chastised.’ Her hand moved unconsciously to her bruised lips. ‘Can’t we leave it at that?’

‘I haven’t made my point at all,’ he said after a long moment of silence. ‘And I do not think your flat is a...dump, I think you so quaintly termed it.’ He glanced round the light painted walls and the windowsill full of flowering plants before turning to inflict the full gaze of his piercing eyes on her again. ‘And I repeat, I wish to speak to you in private. That is no slur on your home, merely the wishes of a hungry man who wants to discuss a particular matter in private at the same time as filling his stomach. I take it you wouldn’t like to cook me dinner?’ She glared at him silently. ‘No, I thought not.’ He smiled coldly. ‘Then you take the alternative. Yes?’

She still didn’t speak.

‘We can either do this the hard way or the easy way, Miss Grant,’ he said after a full minute of taut silence had elapsed. ‘I am not going to abduct you if you allow me to buy you dinner, I am not going to threaten you or mistreat you in any way, in fact I am not g

oing to deal with you at all as you deserve.’

The last was said so matter-of-factly that for a moment she missed its import, and then she flushed angrily as his words registered. ‘How do I know I can trust you?’ she asked slowly. ‘That you won’t try to kiss me again?’

‘You don’t.’ He leant lazily against the door as he spoke, his tawny eyes gleaming oddly. ‘But this is what is called taking the consequences, Miss Grant. Unpleasant, maybe, but if you play games then you have to accept the forfeit. Understand?’

‘I don’t understand any of this,’ she snapped angrily as she snatched the grill off the stove and placed it in water, opening the kitchen window to let the pungent smell of burnt meat fade. ‘Not any of it!’

‘No, maybe not,’ he said complacently. ‘It’s for me to explain and you to listen. Now, get your coat and we’ll go. Swinton should be back with the car by now.’

She marched past him, through the lounge and into the bedroom without a word. ‘Look on it as a bonus, Miss Grant.’ The hated voice followed her. ‘You’ll be fed and watered.’

‘I’m not a dog,’ she said stiffly as she marched out of the bedroom with her coat slung over her arm, and then blushed hotly at the look on his face as his eyes ran over her again.

‘That you aren’t, Fabia Grant,’ he agreed softly, ‘that you aren’t.’ His gaze fastened lingeringly on her swollen lips.

As they left the flat Brian was just entering his, next door, a bottle of cheap wine under his arm. The small eyes took in the situation as Alexander Cade took her arm. The feel of his hand through the soft material of her dress was disconcerting and she had to stop herself sighing audibly with relief when he loosened his hold as they waited for the lift, helping her on with her coat without speaking, his face expressionless.

Within moments they were downstairs in the somewhat dour entrance hall and as she walked by his side towards the big glass doors she found her legs were shaking along with a distinct trembling in the pit of her stomach, and it wasn’t all due to fright, she acknowledged silently. Away from the affected, subservient hangers-on who were part of his entourage and the opulent sophisticated surroundings in which she had seen him, the sheer maleness of the man came across in a virile potency that was almost tangible. He was tall, very tall, and the big black overcoat that he wore made him seem even larger, his shoulders broad and powerful under the expensive cloth. His hair was brushing the collar of the coat, gleaming with rich life against the dark material, and he exuded a sensual, intoxicating, dominant mastery that made her feel helplessly feminine even as she chided herself for her weakness. He wasn’t anything like Robin. As the thought came unbidden into her mind her footsteps faltered and his hand came out instantly to steady her. ‘All right?’

‘I’m fine.’ She flinched from his touch and his hand fell immediately to his side, but apart from a slight tightening of the hard mouth he displayed no emotion at all, his face closed against her. He was suddenly a different man, icy and very distant.