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He gave a heavy sigh. Well, at least he’d achieved his original purpose. He’d have to be content with that. Now he just had to get through this evening’s dinner party, say whatever was appropriate in the circumstances by way of congratulating Ian on getting a new job, standing on his own feet, not cheating on his wife any more—not that he could mention that last, of course. At least not in front of Eva.
‘Athan?’ Eva had finished with the butler. ‘I’m just going to go and check my make up in the powder room. Ian should be here any moment.’
She wafted by and Athan nodded at the butler, dismissing him for the moment. He wanted to be alone, even for a brief while. To steel himself for the ordeal ahead. Could he really get through an entire meal with Ian, knowing that he knew about the infidelity he’d planned, with both of them putting on a good front for Eva?
Well, he’d have to try—damn hard!—that was all.
The doors to the private dining room opened, and Athan turned back from gazing bleakly out of the window.
As he turned, he froze.
Ian had just walked in.
In his wake, stepping with obvious trepidation, was Marisa.
Athan’s reaction was instant. ‘You dare to bring her here!’ he hurled at his brother-in-law.
Marisa could feel the breath congeal in her lungs. How could this be happening? She felt faint, clinging automatically to Ian’s arm as if to keep herself upright. Oh, dear God, if she’d had the faintest idea Athan would be here …
Ian had stiffened. ‘Where’s Eva?’ he demanded.
Athan ignored the question. His expression was a mask of fury. ‘You have one second to get that woman out of here before—’
‘Before what?’ A light, feminine voice sounded from the doorway.
Athan whirled round. His sister stood poised in the doorway, looking at the tableau frozen in front of her. Her expression changed when her gaze took in the presence of a completely strange woman on her husband’s arm.
‘Ian?’ she said enquiringly, a bemused but unsuspicious look on her face.
Marisa swallowed. So, finally, this was Ian’s wife. She could feel her thoughts racing in her head, tried to get control of her emotions. Emotions that had been erratic enough ever since she’d read Ian’s letter that morning. But when she’d felt the full force of her dismay at Athan’s presence here she’d reeled.
Oh, God, she couldn’t do this! She had to get out of here—now. Jerkily, she stumbled forward, heading for the door, and Eva automatically stepped aside. Her expression was changing from bemusement to astonishment. Marisa threw her an agonised look.
‘I’m sorry. So sorry—I can’t do this! I—’
Suddenly her arm was taken. A deep, harsh voice spoke—but not to her.
‘Eva—I’ll deal with this.’
Athan’s hand around her forearm was like a steel clamp, hustling her out. Out of his sister’s presence—before her worthless snake of a husband could inflict the blow he was so obviously, outrageously intending to. Rage consumed him.
What the hell is he thinking of—to bring Marisa here? To confront Eva with her?
It could mean only one thing—the very worst. Ian was going to tell Eva he was leaving her …
But not for Marisa Milburne—not for her!
Emotions seared within him—utterly disparate, but inextricably entwined. To protect his sister from her cheating rat of a husband—to stop Marisa going off with anyone, anyone at all.
Except himself.
Possessiveness scalded within him. Just seeing her there, despite his anger at realising what Ian was intending, had been like a shockwave through his senses.
He thrust her out into the wide, deserted corridor beyond, yanking the dining room door shut behind him and dragging her down towards the elevator. His only thought was to get her out of the hotel—away from Eva. But was Ian already spilling his treacherous guts to her? Hell and damnation—he could slug him to kingdom come for this!
He jabbed furiously at the elevator button and rounded on Marisa.
‘You despicable little bitch! How dare you? How dare you walk in, bold as brass, with Ian?’
