A Hint of Scandal
“I tend to rebel when threatened—if you don’t already know.” She poked her head out of the drawer she had been searching and ran a hand through her hair. “Add the fact that my stomach is eating itself, I’m very dangerous right now.”
He crossed to her in a minute and cornered her, more annoyed by her presence than Kim’s absence. An irrational reaction if ever he’d had one. “Don’t mistake my patience to be a failing, Olivia.” When she tried to turn away, he shifted his body to block her. The scent of her skin surrounded him, assaulting him with images of her in the shower. “Kim was fine this morning. Until you showed up. It’s obvious that she’s somewhere cleaning up your mess again.”
Her mouth opened in protest. She swallowed. The column of her neck drew his gaze. Her hands swept over her stomach. She was nervous and distressed. Finally he was going to get some answers.
“I’m truly hungry, Alexander,” she said, her mouth a beguiling pout. “I missed lunch and then ate hardly a morsel at the reception. Can’t you order your famous French chef to whip up something? Preferably something substantial.”
He fisted his hands, digging deep inside himself for the last scrap of patience. The nerves in his temple stretched taut, as if they would snap at any minute. He pointed her toward the phone on the wall.
With a cheer, she plucked it from the wall and rattled away in French, ordering enough food to feed an army.
He threw her cell phone onto the glass table in between them, along with the giant metallic silver handbag he’d picked up from Kim’s suite. “Call her.”
Her eyebrows shot into to her hairline, her molten gaze looking daggers at him. “You went through my things?”
“You stood next to me and pledged to be my wife.” He smiled, despite the fact that the situation was slipping out of his control. “Life’s a crapshoot.”
She tucked the phone into her bag, a frown on her face. “Didn’t you see the calls I’ve been making every fifteen minutes? She’s not picking up.”
“Then we’ll go find her. Tell me where she is.”
For the first time this evening she looked anxious. “I don’t know. I think she wanted to postpone the wedding but didn’t know how to tell you.”
She folded her hands and leaned against the gleaming marble counter, a little frown furrowing her brow. He followed her glance to the floor-to-ceiling glass doors leading to the beach and the silence he had always cherished was suffused with tension.
“I don’t think she left the island. She said she would be back by now.”
“You think this a joke?” He hated the spiraling tension he could feel in himself. He needed to get control of this situation, and if that meant dealing with someone who didn’t have a responsible bone in her body, so be it. “Why would Kim walk out at the last minute if it wasn’t to deal with whatever mess you’ve gotten yourself into this time?”
Olivia glared at him. “Do you think anything in the world would tempt me to spend time with you other than for my sister? Whether you believe me or not, I did it because Kim asked me to. Now, if you’re done blaming me for helping you, I would like to get out of here.”
“You can’t leave.” His face settled into a mocking smile. “Even if that sounds very unappreciative of me after all your help.”
Sarcastic jerk. “Listen, Alexander. All Kim said was that she couldn’t marry you today. God knows why.”
Olivia felt a tightness around her chest. Her sister hadn’t confided in her. Kim had always been the rock between the two of them. It didn’t bode well that she’d had to leave on the day of her own wedding. That was just not...Kim. Fear for her safety began a rapid tattoo inside Olivia’s head. Where was she?
“But she still wants you. I mean, she persuaded me into this deception precisely because she didn’t want to lose you—as she put it.”
He didn’t bat an eyelid. “If there had been a problem Kim would have come to me—not gone through some elaborate deception and roped you in, of all people.”
Meaning he had a special dose of contempt reserved just for her? She let his comment pass by, even though his prejudice pricked her. She was used to it now. She was, truly. Yet it still shocked her that people judged her based on her history before spending even an hour with her.
“So, if she had come to you and said that she couldn’t marry you tonight it would have been okay? Because she said you would hate even a hint of scandal.” She should stop there, the oh-so-small sensible part of her warned her. But she had left that part behind years ago. “Not that it really is scandalous to postpone a wedding.”