Strategy For Marriage

“Why not? We’re leaving a lot of burning curiosity behind.”

It was not to be. Callista called to her cousin from across the room.

“Ashe!” No one had told Callista who the beautiful blond girl in the green dress was. She was extravagantly lovely to Callista’s eyes. The dress! She could never wear a dress like that. And Ashe? What was he doing with her? The two of them looked somehow torched. As if no one else in the world mattered.

Beside Callista, Josh gave a wry little exclamation. “What with all this talking I’m getting dry in the throat. I think I’ll get myself a drink. Could I get you anything, my darling?”

Callista gave him her sweet smile. “Oh, Joshua, please stay and meet Ashe’s new girlfriend. I must say I’m surprised. But then Ashe is the best of anyone at surprises.”

“I don’t know…” Josh’s mouth was indeed dry and his heart was thundering. Christy was always such a lady but he knew what angry women could do.

“Please, darling, for me.” Callista caught her bridegroom’s hand.

“I can’t do this,” Christy confessed to Ashe McKinnon as they crossed the floor.

“You can. I’ll see you through.” He took her hand and held it firmly.

“Who am I?” This wasn’t what she intended at all. “Who am I supposed to be?”

“You should have thought of that.” His reply was a little harsh. “You’re my deepest secret.”

“You mean you asked me?” She was drowning in confusion.

“Who else? I’m not going to risk Callista’s being badly hurt. Do you think you can smile?” He eyed her critically.

“Of course I can smile, you arrogant man.” A storm of outraged pride blew up in her. He had calluses on his palm. McKinnon the cattle baron. High power—high voltage. She had an hysterical desire to run from him.

“Would you just look at Deakin?” he said suddenly in a hard gritty voice. “My bet is he was trying to make a break for it but Callista stopped him.”

Even devastated by Josh’s betrayal, Christy could scarcely blame him.

“So what’s the play?” she asked through small clenched teeth. It was almost as though she’d known this man in another life, but she had no time to dwell on that.

“We’ll play it by ear,” he told her, giving her, quite out the blue, the sexiest smile.

It was so amazing it put the adrenalin back into her.

And hey! Josh had the frozen look of a rabbit caught in a hunter’s sights. Callista, the triumphant bride, was looking from her to her cousin as if she didn’t know what was going on. Up close Christy realised Callista was older than she had supposed. Late rather than early twenties. Probably her trust fund paid out at age thirty. The evidence was Josh couldn’t wait.

“You look absolutely lovely and so happy, Callista,” Ashe told his cousin in a surprisingly calm voice. “I hope nothing ever changes that.” He slid his arm smoothly around Christy’s waist, drawing her forward. “I’d like you to meet a friend of mine, Christy Parker. She wasn’t on the guest list because I didn’t know she’d be back from L.A.”

Josh, aware he had escaped some terrible danger, fell into his role of loving bridegroom, the expression on his face growing in confidence. “We know one another, don’t we?” he asked Christy, quite unforgivably, giving Christy a smile for which one really needed sunglasses. “You’re with Whitelaw Promotions, aren’t you?”

It was her moment to bring him down. To give him instant payback. Instead she nodded coolly. “That’s right. I think I know you, too.”

Josh prepared himself again for an onslaught. It didn’t come. “So tell me, how is Zack?” he asked in the nicest friendly fashion. He referred to Christy’s boss and the head of the public relations company.

“Fine.” She couldn’t possibly slip into casual mode. She was far too upset. “It’s been a beautiful wedding, Callista.” She turned her attention to the bride. “I wish you every happiness.” Amazingly she was able to say it.

“Thank you so much…Christy…” Callista finally got her voice going. “Wherever did you meet Ashe?” She looked avid to know.

“Well…”

“It’s a long story,” Ashe McKinnon said, locking Christy of the shining beauty to him, aware of her turmoil. She was as jumpy as a cat.

“A story worth listening to, I’ll bet.” Josh’s glance lingered long on Christy.

“Christy’s not talking.” Ashe’s vibrant voice was saturated in what sounded very much like sarcasm. “See you later, you two. I know how much you both want to be together.”

“Dear God!” Christy murmured almost inaudibly as they moved off. “I don’t normally drink but I feel like one now.”

“You did very well,” he assured her. “It was plain to me you wanted to slap him.”

“Whereas you didn’t?” Whatever this man said, he fired her. “I thought you came dangerously near to cutting.”

“I’m surprised you said that,” he drawled. “But then you don’t know me. If I’d been really cutting Deakin wouldn’t be standing. ‘Don’t I know you’?” He aped Josh’s lighter tones then they hardened. “Only the fact Callista is my cousin and she’s wearing a wedding dress stopped me from asking him to step outside.”

“I can’t imagine he could stand up to your flailing fists.” She shuddered. Josh would be no match for this cattle baron. He didn’t have that sort of invincible masculinity. In fact, she considered very belatedly, Josh was soft.

“My dear girl, I’d drop him in one.” He signalled to one of the fleet of uniformed waiters who hurried to his side. “Thank you,” he said gracefully, taking two glasses of champagne from the silver tray.

“I should go now,” Christy said quite sadly as he passed a flute to her.

“My dear, you should be thrown out,” Ashe quipped, not liking this beautiful witch’s misery.

“I don’t belong here.”

“I entirely agree with you, but you’re not going anywhere. Not yet. Come.” He took her arm. Held her captive. “Let’s leave all these good people to their exuberant high spirits. I expect you’re hungry?”

“No.” She shook her head, fighting for her dignity.

“I promise you you will be. Enough money has been spent on the food and drink at this reception to feed the entire Outback for a year.”

As they made their way out to the marquee society photographers got in the way. Flashes went off, capturing the two of them strolling along like a pair of lovers. Ashe McKinnon didn’t stop to supply Christy’s name. He didn’t have to, Christy thought shakily. At least one photographer knew exactly who she was since he’d photographed her at various functions a few times before. Without question a photograph of her with Ashe McKinnon at her side would appear in Vogue, or whatever magazine had the rights. No matter what, Christy held her shoulders back and her head high.

The food was indeed so sumptuous many of the guests stood gawking in awe before they finally moved in to sample the endless dishes. Ice sculptures in the form of larger-than-life swans decorated the tables, which were festooned with white flowers and trails of ivy down the centre. Billows of white tulle and satin ribbons decorated the tented ceilings with thousands of fresh white flowers including masses of white orchids flown in from Thailand. Christy had already seen the six-foot-high wedding cake, which dominated the twenty-foot-long Georgian dining room table. Obviously the happy couple were to cut the cake in the house. She hoped to be long gone by then. Why hadn’t the cattle baron thrown her out? He was a strange perverse man.

Instead he made her eat something. “Go on,” he urged. “Everyone is looking at you. Isn’t that too priceless? Of course you’re the most beautiful woman here, though I expect you still want to change places with Callista?”

She was aghast at his little cruelties. “What a pig you are. Cochon!”

“But of course you speak French,” he joked. “Anyway I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.” He bent his glistening dark head over hers, a study in ebony and gold, as though he was whispering endearments.

“No need to overdo it,” she said sharply, struck again by the beauty of his eyes. Why did men have such wonderful eyelashes?

“I’m doing what I want to do. It’s even possible I’ve fallen madly in love with you.”

“And pray have you?” She could barely conceal her inner rage.

“No. We’re co-conspirators that’s all. And I’m damned if I know why. Our paths will probably never cross again.”

“Amen to that,” she flashed. This wasn’t a man you sashayed around. He was a big, powerful tough man. The sort of man she disliked.

“You don’t see me as eligible?” he mocked. “They tell me I am.”

“Why not with all that money,” she returned bleakly. Wasn’t that how it went with Josh.

“You have such command of diplomacy. I’m sure you weren’t always that cynical.”

“I was not.” There was a headache behind her eyes.

“You’re thinking about Deakin, aren’t you?” he abruptly accused, the muscles of his face tautening.

“It’s hard not to when I’ve turned up at his wedding,” she managed painfully.

“And when did you decide to do that?” He was determined to know.

“At precisely half past eleven last night,” she replied.

“What we call a snap decision? More champagne? There’s a choice. Moet or Bollinger?”

“Wouldn’t it have been cheaper, even smarter, to buy domestic?” she asked tartly, swallowing a morsel of Russian caviar.

“Mercedes thinks our champagne styles lack French subtlety.”

“She should go to more wine tastings. Even the experts have been known to be fooled.”

Inevitably other guests surged up to speak to Ashe. He appeared to be known and “adored” by everyone on the bride’s side, but needless to say none of the super-rich knew her. She only occasionally moved into their world at charity functions. But he introduced her to all his friends who turned searching but approving eyes on her. It was about time Ashe got married, they said with sly glances at her, never guessing she was wincing inside. As urbanely as Ashe McKinnon was handling all this, she just knew there was a dark side to the cattle baron. He was allowing this charade to go on to prevent a scandal. She was determined to get away from him, at the same time filled with the weird notion she couldn’t even if she tried. But her moment came. The best-looking of the bridesmaids, four in all, all dressed alike in shades of blue moire silk, determinedly took hold of his arm.

“Ashe, darling, why are you being so cruel to me…?”

Christy waited for no more. She fled across the lawn, keeping to the shadows and away from the main reception rooms, heading eastwards. If she got lost he would have to send a search party. She’d have really strange memories of all this. They’d probably stay with her all her life.

Just when she thought she was safe, a man’s hand suddenly reached for her, drawing her back into a large dimly lit room that looked like a man’s study. She had an impression of walls of books, glass cases bearing sporting trophies, paintings of winning racehorses, a desk and chairs.

“Christy!” Josh was staring down at her, soft floppy hair nearly falling into his eyes.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry, I don’t want to speak to you.” She gritted her teeth.

“Take it quietly, darling,” he begged. “God, I thought the bloody cattle baron had abducted you.”

“He’ll be coming to look for me pretty soon,” Christy warned, wanting nothing more than to have Ashe McKinnon explode into the room.

“You don’t know him, do you?’ Josh asked as if he guessed her pitiful secret.

“Pretty soon we’re going to get engaged,” Christy said briskly, wanting to see how he took it.

The generous mouth dropped open. “Be serious.”

“I am being serious,” she managed.

“You’re not!” Now he gloated. “You don’t know him. He doesn’t come to the city that often. He has a cattle empire to run.”

“I know!” Christy flaunted the knowledge. “He’s very rich.”

“You don’t care about riches.”

“I do now. It’s ironic, isn’t it? I’d say he has even more millions than your wife and mother-in-law put together.”

“You’re bitter, aren’t you?” Josh accused her, his hazel eyes raking her face and body.

“Get a grip, Josh,” she said, green eyes narrowing in contempt. “It’s okay you married your Callista. There’s a big wide world out there full of gorgeous men. Ashe McKinnon would have to be right up there at the top.”

“You weren’t on the wedding list,” Josh pointed out aggressively. “You’re a fake, Christy. You don’t know him at all.” But on his own wedding day Josh’s voice cracked with jealousy.

“How would you know?” Christy was finding his behaviour abominable. “It’s been weeks since I laid eyes on you. Now if you don’t mind I want to leave.”

“When you’re McKinnon’s date?” He challenged her to stop.

“I mean leave this room. You have me bailed up.” She stared at him in disgust, willing him out of the way.

“No one will come in here, Christy,” he said as if to reassure her.

“Oh, please. You’d better hope and pray not Ashe McKinnon. You could wind up dead. He’s very protective of his cousin.”

“I can handle Callista.” He smiled tightly. “I had to talk to you, Christy. I have to see you later.”

“Later?” Her eyes flashed angrily even while her voice rose in sheer disbelief. “Later you’re supposed to be on your honeymoon. Not renewing our relationship.”

“How I wish it was you,” he admitted in a tone of deepest regret.

“Go to hell.” She prised her fingers from his arm. “And I hope you stay there.”

“Why are you doing this to me?” he groaned, his eyes curiously glazed. “I love you. You love me. Nothing can change that.” He reached, as though this time she would surrender and go into his arms.

Instead the tall, powerful figure of Ashe McKinnon appeared in the open doorway. He fairly lunged into the room, looking as daunting as the devil, just as dangerous, and probably just as unlawful.

“This has to be the most stupid thing you’ve ever done, Deakin,” he rasped, eyes like black diamonds. “Get away from him.” He turned on Christy, grinding out the order.

Giving orders was a tendency in dangerous creatures, she thought, instantly obeying.

“Hasn’t it crossed your arrogant mind that’s what I’m trying to do?” The decided edge in her voice matched his own.

“I told you to stay with me,” he reminded her, not taking his eyes off the errant bridegroom who had taken cover of sorts behind an armchair.

“And you really thought I was going to obey? What sort of woman do you think I am?” Christy fired, embarrassed beyond words.

“An idiot to begin with,” he informed her shortly. “Come over here to me.”

She knew better than to rile him further.

“What are we going to do with you, Deakin?” Ashe felt like slamming Callista’s brand-new husband against a wall. “My family is very important to me.” And in all honesty he was seething at the sight of Miss Parker near wrapped in Deakin’s arms.

“It wasn’t what you think.” The panic-stricken Josh assumed a look of deep apology. Tangling with the cattle baron would be like tangling with a charging rhino. “It’s the same old story. You must know it, Ashe.” His mobile features took on a man-to-man expression. “Christy and I had a little fling but when I told her it was over she wouldn’t let go. Women are like that.”

She had never known this man, Christy thought, gazing at him with a mixture of dismay and pain.

“You really think I’m going to swallow that?” Ashe near choked, he was so angry. He couldn’t, absolutely couldn’t, relate to this guy. What in the name of God did Callista and this girl, Christy, see in him? He was ninety-five per cent toxic waste.

“It’s true.” Christy picked that moment to be utterly selfless. Not for Josh. Sometime in the future Josh would get his comeuppance. But for Callista. She had no desire to hurt Callista. Callista was just another woman who thought herself deeply in love with a man she couldn’t see clearly. “I came here to tempt him.”

“What rot!” Ashe bridled afresh. “About as good as it gets.” He studied Christy with contemptuous eyes. “You’re trying to save his worthless skin.”

“Your cousin Callista doesn’t deserve this. She’s the innocent party. I owe her something. The question I ask myself now is why did you, astute old you, let her marry him?”

Ashe’s dynamic face mirrored his frustration. “The fact is Callista is nearly thirty years old.” He rounded on Christy, his anger abruptly abating when he saw how pale she was. Her eyes were enormous, a dead give-away she was deeply disturbed.

“Get the hell out of here, Deakin,” Ashe ordered, his voice cracking like a whip. “Your playing around with other women ends today. If I hear one word…!”

“I’m going to be the best husband ever,” Josh proclaimed like a professional con man, looking Ashe in the eyes.

“You’d better be, my man.” Ashe nodded, his expression grim.

“I love Callista,” Josh poured it on while Ashe McKinnon threw back his dark head and roared.

“I have grave misgivings about that. You’re dirt.”

The rest of Josh’s words dried up. Hastily he crossed to the door, pausing a moment from its relative safety. “As far as I’m concerned Christy is the culprit here. Ex-girlfriends aren’t supposed to gatecrash a man’s wedding.”

Ashe swore beneath his breath in a near ecstasy of anger. “Get out of here.” The attitude of his body suggesting a panther about to spring into action.

Josh wasn’t entirely insane. With one last aggrieved look he took to his heels.

“Not his finest hour,” pronounced Ashe in disgust.

When the time came—by now time had no meaning for Christy—for the happy couple to leave on the first leg of their honeymoon—an overnight stay in the honeymoon suite of a leading hotel before jetting off for three weeks in Thailand—the guests had assembled on the grand sweep of front lawn of the McKinnon mansion to wave them off.

Callista, as pretty as a picture in her pink going-away outfit, turned to throw her bouquet. A surprisingly high sweep. Christy, battling with the illusion she was trapped in a dream, made no move to catch it. She felt quite naturally it was inappropriate as well as the fact she had gone off weddings. She didn’t even make a playful gesture of reaching up as all four bridesmaids were doing, but in earnest. The bouquet simply descending gracefully but in a mesmerizing way, twirling and twirling a lovely posy of perfect pink and white roses threaded with traceries of green.

The bridesmaids were running forward, palms up, fingers steepled, each one determined to catch this wonderful forecast. I’m next! Their faces were bright with excitement and anticipatory pleasure.

Me. Me. Let it be me.

But life is full of disappointments and preordained events. Callista’s bouquet fell with a soft fragrant weight into Christy’s nerveless hands.

She saw the muscles along Ashe McKinnon’s clean-cut jaw tighten cynically before two of the women guests grasped her in affectionate camaraderie and kissed her on either cheek.

“Lucky girl!” They batted speculative glances at Ashe. God, wasn’t he a drop-dead hunk!

And why not? Ashe had scarcely left her side. Mercedes had berated him fondly for trying to fool her. Everyone seemed to think she was the new woman in Ashe McKinnon’s life. An irony not lost on either of them.

And so it was that Christy and Ashe McKinnon left the wedding together. Christy heading into very deep waters indeed.

CHAPTER TWO

FROM nowhere a chauffeured limousine appeared. At least there were some pluses to being rich. Christy stepped into the back seat. After a moment Ashe McKinnon joined her.

In the silence that followed, Christy stared out the window, devastated by the whole day.

“Silly me, I’ve forgotten where you live,” he said in an ironic tone.

She surveyed him gravely, her faith in life shattered, yet it was he who had rescued her from a very bad situation.

“Goodness me, and you were thinking of moving in. Number 10 Downing Street.” At least that was a world away.

“My dear girl they’ve changed the locks.” His black gaze fell on her lovely face, desire lapping in his blood.

“Then I suggest you try 121 Shelly Beach Road.”

He lowered the partition window to give instructions to the chauffeur.

“I feel ashamed of myself,” Christy confessed after a few unhappy minutes of studying the stars. “Really ashamed.”

“Perhaps you ought to be put in prison,” he suggested in a mocking voice.

“It wasn’t that serious, was it?” She looked back at him. Why was she with this man?

“You do this for a living, gatecrashing receptions?”

“I couldn’t face seeing Josh marry your cousin. How petite she is! Doll-size.”

“Up until recently I thought she had a woman-sized brain. As for you, you have to get on with your life.” He didn’t want her mourning Deakin. Not for one minute.

“I don’t want to even think about it for at least forty-eight hours. I had maybe one too many glasses of champagne,” she apologised.

“That’s perfectly understandable. It’s also the reason why I hired the limousine. I couldn’t drive you myself. Not only do I not keep a car in the city but I’m well over the limit. Three glasses of anything is surely not enough to celebrate a wedding? Even an insufferable one.”

“I should have known better.” Christy gave a bruised sigh.

“Indeed you should.” His tone used up a lot of censure.

“You’ve never made a mistake in your life I suppose?” Christy pressed back exhaustedly against the plush upholstery.

“I think I hate the way you say that. All my ex-girlfriends speak to me.”

“I bet you gave them a hard time,” Christy answered. He wouldn’t lie to them. If anything he was too much upfront. “I know some women go in for excitement and danger. It must make them feel more alive. It’s my professional judgment that you’re a dangerous man.”

“All it might take is a little getting to know me.” He flung out an arm and drew her close to him. His desire for her was blocking out his usual tight control. And he wanted to comfort her. All of a sudden she seemed very vulnerable.

Christy allowed her head to come to rest against his shoulder. “You know you’re not my keeper.” But he was very masterful.

“I am for this evening.” He brushed a few glinting golden strands of hair from her cheek. “To be honest, I’m concerned you might go after them.”

She came upright in despair. “I’ve learned my lesson.”

“I sincerely hope so.” He didn’t sound impressed. “Your ex-boyfriend and my cousin have only this very evening exchanged their marriage vows.”

“And good luck to them,” Christy exclaimed disjointedly. She felt so overwrought she couldn’t even begin to describe her emotions. “I do know one thing. I wouldn’t want to marry a man like you.” She withdrew the ruffled hem of her short skirt away from his trousered knee.

“I hope you weren’t counting on my asking you?” He didn’t bother to control the mockery. Who the hell did she think she was? A goddess?

“Getting married is the last thing I want to do,” Christy said with the sombre gravity of the betrayed. “Marriages in most cases don’t seem to work out. I know any number of couples who have split up.”

“Not counting you and Josh?” He smiled grimly.

“When I think of you a word comes to mind,” Christy said in exasperation. Didn’t he know she was badly hurt?

“Please don’t say it,” he joked. “I detest hearing rough words on a woman’s tongue. As it happens, I’m not a great one for marriage either. It’s something men have to do to get heirs.”

She felt the shock. “What a rotten thing to say.”

He was silent for a while. “Being betrayed isn’t just a woman’s area. Wives and mothers have been known to abandon the marital home leaving devastation behind them. Women don’t have a great deal of difficulty stamping on a man’s heart.”

Christy was taken aback by the degree of passion in his voice. “You’re beginning to sound like a misogynist.”