Modern Romance Collection: April 2018 Books 5 - 8. Heidi RiceЧитать онлайн книгу.
twirled above their heads, snowflakes danced across the walls, and enormous ice sculptures of fantastical beasts adorned the walls. It was certainly breathtaking, if a little dazzling. As Harper gazed about in awe she realised that most of the women were dressed in appropriately winter colours; ice blue was very popular, as were silver and white. Even the staff were dressed from head to toe in snowy white. And there she was in flaming scarlet.
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ she snapped in Vieri’s ear as she reluctantly relinquished her wrap, the idea that she might be able to keep it on for the entire evening quickly taken out of her hands by the helpful cloakroom attendant.
‘Tell you what?’
‘That everyone would be dressed in...in cold colours.’
‘I didn’t know they would.’ Vieri surveyed the room dismissively.
Harper followed his even gaze, feeling like a hedgerow poppy about to infiltrate a room full of lilies. But it was too late now. With his arm snaking around her waist, Vieri was confidently escorting her into the room, all eyes turning to look at them. Or so it seemed to Harper. She felt their curious stares, their blatant scrutiny of this boldly dressed stranger who had the audacity to be on the arm of Sicily’s most eligible bachelor. As they advanced further into the room the crowd parted, almost reverentially, to let them through until a middle-aged man came forward to shake Vieri’s hand, demanding to know who this beautiful young woman was. When Vieri casually introduced her as his fiancée there was an audible intake of breath before a group of people closed around them, congratulations flying as the women edged forward to get a better look at her, eyeing the ring on her finger with burning curiosity, while the men were slapping Vieri on the back.
Harper quickly downed half a glass of champagne. She was about as far out of her comfort zone as it was possible to go. Unlike her sister, she had never aspired to live the high life, the affairs of the rich and famous holding no interest for her. While Leah would be poring over celebrity magazines, she would be more likely to be found running her finger down the column of barely legible figures in their father’s accounts ledger, trying to make sure that everything balanced before it was handed over to the estate accountant. Her biggest dread was that the Laird would be forced to sack her father, that they would lose their livelihood, their home. Gordon Gillespie, Laird of Craigmore, was a good man but fundamentally the Craigmore estate was a business, and if Angus McDonald was seen as a liability, Harper knew he would have to go. Which was why she worried herself sick fighting the losing battle to keep him sober, covering his tracks, essentially doing as much of his job as she could for him.
But tonight she had another job to do. Tonight she had to play the part of the adoring fiancée. Although how she was supposed to do that when Vieri was virtually ignoring her, she had no idea. Despite the fact that he had stressed in the car the importance of them giving a convincing performance because the gossip from the night would be sure to find its way back to Alfonso, now they were actually here he seemed to have forgotten all about her. As the great and the good of Sicilian high society swarmed around them, not to mention royalty and A-list celebrities from all over Europe, she watched him being borne away on a tide of adoring females, scarcely giving her a glance as he disappeared into the crowd. Well, maybe it was a much-needed reality check. When Vieri had looked at her in her dressing room, just for that moment, he had made her feel beautiful. He had made her feel special. Now, as she watched the smooth way he charmed the women around him, she realised it had simply been an act. A minor charm offensive. And like a fool she had fallen for it.
Draining the last of the champagne, she swapped the empty glass for a full one from a passing waiter. She wished she could shrink into the background, pretend she wasn’t here, but, given her choice of attire, that wouldn’t be easy. A shriek of laughter turned her head in time to see a beautiful blonde with icicle earrings grasp Vieri’s arm then lean forward to giggle something into his ear. Harper turned back, squashing down the pang of hurt, refusing to let herself feel anything.
‘Signorina?’ A rather dashing young man wearing some sort of military uniform stepped forward. ‘Would you do me the great honour of having the next dance?’
Pasting on a smile and accepting his hand, Harper allowed herself to be led to the dance floor, grateful that at least someone was paying her some attention. She would allow him the honour, and anyone else who might want to dance with her. They would be no substitute for Vieri, of course, but right now her bruised confidence would take anything that was on offer.
* * *
From his table at the side of the ballroom, Vieri’s narrow-eyed gaze flitted across the crowded dance floor. She wasn’t difficult to spot, the flash of that scarlet dress as Harper was twirled around by yet another partner, male guests of all ages queuing up for the chance to take her hand, slide their arm around her waist, hold her just that little bit too close.
Well, it was time to put a stop to it. Vieri pushed his drink away and rose to his feet. He thought he had made himself clear. He thought he had explained that her role as his ‘fiancée’ was to spend the evening by his side, look decorous and say little. Instead of that she had disappeared the first chance she’d had, already on the dance floor when he had looked up to see where she was within minutes of their arrival.
Irritation spiked through him, along with some other emotion that felt suspiciously like jealousy. He ground his jaw. If she was dancing with anyone it should be him.
Was she doing this deliberately? Trying to prove some sort of point? Vieri had never concerned himself with the inner workings of a woman’s mind and he certainly had no time for playing silly games, as the few women who had tried that on with him had soon found out to their cost. But he would never have thought that of Harper. She was too open, altogether too straightforward. It was one of the things he liked about her. But tonight she had overstepped the mark. If she wasn’t playing games it was time he reminded her of her duty. To him.
Weaving his way through the dancers, he zoned in on his target, briefly pausing behind the swaying figure of Harper’s partner, Hans Langenberg, the Crown Prince of a small European principality, before tapping him briskly on the shoulder.
‘Excuse me.’
‘Vieri Romano.’ Hans turned to face him. ‘I hope you haven’t come to spoil my fun.’
‘If you mean claiming my fiancée for a dance, then yes, I have.’
‘Fiancée, eh, Romano?’ The Crown Prince looked at him with renewed respect. ‘So it’s true. You are finally committing after all this time?’
Vieri gave a brisk nod. ‘I said so, didn’t I?’
‘Well, hats off to you, old chap. You have made an excellent choice.’
Vieri scowled. Why did everyone persist in telling him what an excellent choice he had made when in point of fact he hadn’t made the choice at all?
‘Though I can’t pretend I’m not disappointed,’ Hans continued. ‘I was hoping I might be in with a chance myself.’
‘Well, I can assure you, you are not.’ With a surge of possessiveness Vieri stepped in between the two of them, slipping his arm around Harper’s waist. A tingle of awareness shot through him as his fingers touched the bare skin of her lower back. Swiftly followed by the hot rush of annoyance when he thought of the other men who had had their hands there tonight.
‘I am here, you know, I can speak for myself,’ Harper finally piped up. But her voice held none of the usual edge Vieri had expected to hear. Instead there was a hint of triumph, a light in her eyes that told him he had been sussed—that he had given himself away. Something she decided to put to the test by leaning into him so that the sexy warmth of her body worked its way through the fabric of his suit, setting off a chain reaction that he battled to contain.
‘I don’t doubt it for one moment, Miss McDonald.’ Hans reached for Harper’s hand, kissing the back of it before letting go and giving her a formal bow. ‘Can I just say it has been a pleasure? And should you, you know, ever change your mind...’
There was a low growl and it took