The Society Groom. Mary LyonsЧитать онлайн книгу.
her own name.
Quickly jerking to attention, she gazed over the heads of the crowd towards where, most unusually, she saw that the bride had seized hold of the microphone.
‘...and we’re so happy to see you all here today.’ Sarah gave the guests a broad grin. ‘I’ve already thanked my parents, and everyone else connected with our marriage, but I do want everyone to know that without the help of Olivia Johnson and her firm Society Weddings, which took all the strain out of what could have been a tense time before our wedding, Mark and I might well have run off on our own and eloped to Gretna Green!’
Oh, Lord! It looks as if Sarah has really hit the champagne bottle, more than somewhat! was the first thought to enter Olivia’s head, as a ripple of laughter and applause rang around the room.
And then, as she saw Dominic give a quick snap of his fingers—the gesture accompanied by an expression of triumph and satisfaction flickering briefly across his handsome face—Olivia realised that any hope of her remaining anonymous as far as Dominic was concerned was now a complete waste of time. A fact emphasised as, in his role of best man, he stepped forward to make the final speech of the day, before once more proposing the health of the bride and groom.
It was an accomplished, smooth performance. Although Olivia could have done without the heavily cynical, distinct emphasis in his voice when welcoming so many ‘old friends’ to the wedding.
However, it looked as though the rotten man must be able to move with the speed of light. Because, only a moment or two after the bride and groom had cut the cake, Olivia suddenly became aware that the tall, broad-shouldered figure of Dominic FitzCharles was now standing by her side.
‘Well, well, how very nice to see you again, Olivia. And after all these years!’ he drawled coolly, smiling sardonically down at the pale-faced, slim figure of the girl who’d been so clearly avoiding him for some hours.
CHAPTER TWO
‘IT’S been a long time since we last saw one another,’ Dominic drawled smoothly.
‘Yes, it has,’ Olivia agreed, thoroughly rattled by his sudden, unexpectedly swift appearance at her side.
‘So... what have you been doing with yourself all these years?’
She shrugged. ‘Not a lot.’
‘Oh, really?’ he murmured. ‘You certainly seem to have been quite busy today.’
‘Well, yes. As you can see, I run a business arranging weddings,’ she muttered, avoiding his eyes as she gazed past him at the crowded throng of guests.
He gave a short bark of dry laughter. ‘Yes—I had rather gathered that fact,’ he told her, not bothering to hide the note of hard irony in his deep voice. ‘Is it a successful business?’
She gave another shrug of her slim shoulders. ‘I make a reasonable living!’
‘I’m glad to hear it,’ he drawled, his lips twitching with wry amusement and clearly not at all perturbed by the girl’s obvious reluctance to continue the conversation. ‘But what about your private life?’
‘What about it?’ she queried stonily, still avoiding his gaze as her eyes flicked nervously around the room, frantically searching for some avenue of escape from the tall, dark figure now standing so close to her.
‘Well, now...’ he drawled mockingly. ‘I was merely wondering if you are happy and content with your life? Whether you’re married or single? Are you still living in the country—or do you have a home here in London? Nothing very dramatic,’ he added with a grin. ‘Just the normal, boring type of questions that one usually asks at this kind of function.’
‘Yes, I am happy. No, I’m not married—and, yes, I live in London,’ she snapped tersely. ‘And now, if you don’t mind, I really think that I must go and...’
‘Oh, but I do mind,’ he murmured, quickly taking hold of her arm and leading her reluctant, nervously protesting figure to a small alcove in the far corner of the room.
‘No...really...I’ve still got a lot of work to do, and...’
‘It can wait,’ he said, firmly sitting her down on a small padded bench, effectively screened from the rest of the room by heavy velvet curtains.
‘We’ve both been on duty quite long enough. So I feel we’re entitled to a short break, don’t you?’ Dominic continued, not waiting for an answer as he added, ‘I’m just going to get us both a drink. But don’t make the mistake of trying to escape me yet again, hmm?’
Despite the cool smile on his face, there was no mistaking the intimidating, icy note of menace in his voice as he stood staring down at her for a moment, before swiftly turning on his heels and striding across the room in search of a waiter.
As she watched Dominic’s tall, commanding figure smoothly making his way through the crowd, Olivia desperately tried to bring her chaotic thoughts and emotions under some sort of control. To have so unexpectedly met again the man who’d once meant so much to her, and from whom she had parted so abruptly and painfully, was proving to be almost more than she could cope with.
It was ridiculous to be meekly sitting here—doing as she was told and not daring to move, just as though she was a naughty child, she told herself, suddenly irritated with herself for being so weak and feeble. However, as she acknowledged with a heavy sigh, it was obviously pointless to continue trying to evade any contact with Dominic. There were still some hours to go before the end of the wedding reception—and she could hardly keep ricocheting back and forth around this large room, attempting to avoid the man. She would just end up looking totally ridiculous.
In any case, she was damned if she was prepared to let Dominic guess just how devastated she’d been by the abrupt termination of their brief love affair. In fact, if she’d had any sense at all—and hadn’t been so thrown by his sudden appearance by her side a few moments ago—she ought to have lied her head off and told him that she was happily married. Or at least laid claim to a highly active sex life with a whole string of highly glamorous lovers.
Come on...come on! You’ve got to get a grip on yourself. You’re not a teenager any more, she told herself roughly. You’re a successful businesswoman of twenty-eight years of age. So there’s absolutely no reason why you should put up with any nonsense, she was telling herself firmly as she saw Dominic returning back across the room, a glass of champagne in each hand.
He hasn’t changed at all, she thought, her mood swinging from firm resolution to nervous misery in the twinkling of an eye; she instantly recognised an old, all too familiar ache m her body at the sight of the most devastatingly attractive man she’d ever known.
There were, of course, a few threads of silver amidst the dark hair at his temples, and his face was now somewhat leaner, with a more stern expression than she remembered. There also appeared to be a more forceful, autocratic stance to his figure. However, that was perhaps not so surprising, since Dominic had inherited both his title, the huge castle in Kent and the management of ten thousand acres on the death of his father some years ago. And with such an inheritance had also come noblesse oblige: the heavy duties and responsibilities of those born to wealth and grandeur.
While she might not have physically laid eyes on him for the past ten years, Olivia was well aware—from both the newspaper columns and glossy magazines—that if Dominic played hard, he also worked very hard as well. He sat on the boards of various large companies involved in farming, he’d been appointed by the Queen as Deputy Lord Lieutenant for the County of Kent, and, as she knew from her own father, who lived nearby, Dominic was also president of many various local charities.
However, as he now handed her a glass of champagne, she realised that while his outward appearance might have changed slightly over the past ten years, he still possessed that glittering aura which instinctively drew people to him: an almost sinister air of stillness and self-control that had always set him apart from anyone else she’d ever known.
‘We’ve