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The lack of turmoil and emotion was liberating. He stood staring at Iris until she said, “Connor, are you okay?”
He gave his assistant an unabashed grin. “I’m better than okay—I’m great.”
She snorted. “Because Dana and Paul are getting married?”
“Yep.” His grin widened. “Makes me feel much better than I thought.”
A wave of relief crashed over him that there was no need for anger, or to exact further revenge. That phase of his life was over.
What he had now was so much better.
Iris straightened the papers on his desk into a neat pile. “There’s a rumor that Dana’s pregnant.”
Even that didn’t disturb him. He grinned at her over the top of the coffee mug. “I should’ve anticipated that. Poor Paul.”
“You had a lucky escape.”
“I certainly did.” Setting the mug down on a wooden coaster, he tipped his head sideways and studied Iris as she slit his correspondence with a letter opener. “You never indicated you didn’t like Dana.”
“Wasn’t my place—you seemed happy enough with her.”
His gaze paused on her pursed mouth. “You’re not the only one. Michael never liked her, either, nor did Brett.” His brother had been open in his reservations about Dana after their first meeting. Of course, Dana hadn’t cared for Brett either—she’d been relieved that he lived in London.
There was a scrape as Iris shredded the empty envelopes. “Dana was always good at her job, and she knew who to impress. But she’d clamber over anyone in her way to get what she wanted.” Iris turned back to face him.
Leaning back in his executive chair, Connor folded his arms behind his head. “It wasn’t easy for her. People are always harder on women who are successful in business.” He thought of Victoria. “Even me.” He couldn’t help wondering what Iris would make of Victoria.
“It had nothing to do with Dana’s successes, just the way she went about achieving them.” Disapproval came off Iris in waves. “And you shouldn’t be defending her.” With that, she bustled out of his office, pausing at the doorway to say, “Don’t forget you have a meeting at noon.”
Connor nodded, then swiveled his chair to look out the window at the knot of gum trees that flourished beside a pond. A pair of ungainly blue-and-black pukekos minced on orange webbed feet along the bank of the pond, picking for food.
His motherly assistant thought Dana had used him as a way to get what she’d wanted, but to be honest, he’d used Dana, too. He was starting to realize that what he liked about Dana was that she didn’t affect him—he could stay heart whole and devoted to work. He didn’t think about her all day long. He hadn’t felt the same compulsion to talk to her as he did with Victoria. Dana hadn’t been a constant distraction from his work. Sure, she’d been a very decorative diversion, and of course he’d gotten a kick out the covetous looks other men had given her. And she could be as feral as a sex-starved mink in bed.
Yet her infidelity still left a bitter taste.
But Michael had hit the nail on the head. It had been his pride—rather than his heart—that had been bleeding when she’d walked out.
He’d never thought he’d land himself in a similar position.
Yet Victoria was even sexier to him, and her beauty was more subtle but no less captivating…and he had a suspicion that Victoria could make him never want to go to work again.
And she was even smarter than Dana.
Just look how she’d gotten him to agree to a marriage without sex—only minutes after kissing him stupid. She’d reduced him to a quivering lump.
Masterly.
And he’d been the fool who’d agreed to it! Even though he was certain he’d be able to convince her otherwise. Given time.
As the pukekos disappeared into the reeds on the water-line, an inner voice whispered, Dana would never have done that. She’d have used sex as another weapon in her arsenal.
But then he couldn’t remember ever wanting, yearning, going mad with desire for Dana in quite the same way.…
Out of respect for Suzy and Michael it was decided the wedding would be a small one with no frills and flounces—and definitely no fairy-tale white dress.
The following night after they’d put Dylan to bed Connor came to the small sitting room upstairs that Victoria had claimed as her own, where he hadn’t invaded until now. He paused at the threshold, and she watched him survey the changes she’d made to the elegant cream-and-dull-gold décor. The addition of a wall hanging in muted colors that she’d brought from her town house. A large fern she’d called Audrey, which was draping enthusiastic fronds over the back of the couch where she sat holding a wineglass.
