His fingers spread out now, just above the bodice of the dress, and his touch became more caressing. The kind of touch anyone might expect of a man to his fiancée.
But there was something else in it too; as she stood there by Gianni’s side and faced her parents she had the bizarre sense for the first time in her life of not standing alone against them. Which was crazy because Gianni only wanted this marriage as a business deal; he wasn’t genuinely interested in the kind of support that should come with a real marriage.
That galvanised her to move subtly away from his touch and she hated how she felt bereft when his hand dropped. She sent him a dark look for having this effect on her but he merely raised a brow in return. Completely bemused.
An arm went through hers. ‘Darling, let’s let the men talk boring work and tell me all about your plans for the wedding.’
Keelin blinked at her mother before letting herself be led away, fuming inwardly at the implication that she couldn’t be part of that conversation. And as if for all the world this was a genuine wedding and she and Gianni were some sort of besotted couple. She said acerbically, ‘Don’t you mean discuss the plans for this business arrangement?’
Her mother darted a glance around and then pulled Keelin into a secluded corner. Gone was any attempt to feign affection and the truth was visible of an attractive woman who was ageing and not happy about the process or the fact that her daughter was far more beautiful than she’d ever been.
‘What is wrong with you? That man is young, handsome and rich. You could do a lot worse, you know.’ Her mother sounded almost peevish.
Keelin sighed inwardly. That was all her mother understood—the currency of a rich husband and being socially acceptable. After all, she’d made it her life’s work, especially when she hadn’t been able to have more children after Keelin, which she’d borne a totally irrational sense of guilt about for as long as she could remember.
Keelin valiantly pushed aside old wounds. ‘You mean worse than have a chance to work for the family business and be independent?’
Her mother all but snorted. ‘Darling, I’ve never understood this obsession you have, and why work when you don’t have to?’
Her darker green eyes narrowed on her daughter. ‘I really hope you’re not going to be difficult about this. Your father will be very angry—’
Keelin cut her off crisply. ‘Don’t worry, I’ve already been told what’ll happen if I walk away.’
Dolores O’Connor didn’t even have the grace to look remotely concerned or guilty. ‘Most girls would give their eye teeth to be in your position.’
Keelin felt a prickling sensation on the back of her neck just before an arm slid around her waist and a large hot body came alongside hers. Once again she had to battle that urge to just sink against him. She stiffened against the tide of sensations that washed through her. It only showed up a lingering pathetic need for some kind of male approval.
Her mother gave a completely unsubtle look to Keelin and excused herself with a wholly inappropriate girlish giggle. Keelin rounded on Gianni when they were alone, dislodging his arm from around her.
‘What’s with the PDA? I don’t think anyone could care less how authentic we are.’
She glanced around at the chattering crowd and surmised, ‘It’s not as if all these people are actually in love with their partners.’
Gianni tutted and drawled, ‘So cynical and so young. What made you like this, Keelin?’
She looked at him. ‘And you’re not?’ The man oozed cynicism. She hated that he could slide a blade under her skin so neatly and declared, ‘I need a drink.’
He looked pointedly at her champagne and she answered expressively, ‘Of something I actually like.’
She went to move around him and he stopped her with a hand on her upper arm again, fingers brushing far too close to the swell of her breasts.
‘No one else might care how authentic we are, Keelin, but I do. Do I need to remind you how authentic we can be if I touch you? So when we’re in public we are together.’
Keelin fought down the panic at the thought of Gianni demonstrating how weak she was in front of all these people and said as witheringly as she could, ‘I wouldn’t have had you down as a romantic fantasist, Gianni.’
Childishly pleased that she’d had the parting shot, she pulled her arm free and walked away, steering well clear of where her parents were talking to another couple nearby. The last thing she needed now was for her father to join in loading on the pressure.
By the time Keelin got to the discreet bar in the corner of the room and ordered a drink, she was wondering what was stopping her from just walking out the door and to hell with the lot of them.
She turned around and surveyed the room. Some of the world’s most powerful and important people were here. People whose opinions counted and mattered. And that’s why she couldn’t walk away. Not yet. Because she wanted this too—to be counted and listened to. Given a chance. And also, disturbingly, Gianni’s darkly handsome face kept flashing into her mind.
As if loath to let her have that parting shot, he approached her through the crowd now, eyes on her in such an assessing way that her skin rose up in goosebumps of anticipation.
He stopped before her and looked at the bottle of beer in her hand. ‘Must you?’
She gritted her jaw and vowed that she would get through this experience and come out on the other side with everything she’d ever wanted. And for it to make not walking away worth it.
In answer, she took a healthy swig from the bottle and dared him to take it off her and replace it with something far more genteel and ladylike.