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‘Fine, I expect,’ she answered.
Tristan scowled and brought her hand in tightly against his chest. His other hand was spread wide against that sensitive spot in the small of her back. He was holding her so closely now Lily could hear the brush of her tulle skirt against his trousers.
Lily swallowed and concentrated on holding in the quiver that zipped up her spine, completely forgetting what number she was up to. Damn. One, two…
‘Are you counting?’ Tristan’s deep voice was incredulous.
‘Would you stop talking?’ she whispered furiously, trying hard to ignore the growing tension in his big body.
Then he stopped dancing altogether, and Lily became acutely aware of the murmur of voices and the soft sway of Jordana’s silk gown as she moved in time with the music. Lily stood in the circle of Tristan’s arms, glancing around nervously at the interested faces of the wedding guests circling the dance floor.
She was just about to ask him what he was doing when he made a low sound in the back of his throat. ‘Oh, to hell with it,’ he muttered, deftly hoisting her and her close-fitted tulle skirts into his arms. ‘Excuse us,’ he threw at a surprised Oliver and Jordana as he strode past.
‘What are you doing?’ Lily squeaked, smiling tremulously as if nothing untoward was going on when it definitely was.
‘Keep still,’ he ordered, and Lily, not wishing to make any more of a scene, ducked her head into his neck just as she had done at the airport a little over a week ago, to hide her face from the amused glances of the wedding guests who were parting like the Red Sea to let Tristan through.
‘Oh, I hate to imagine what everyone is going to think!’ she fumed, scowling at the smiling waiter who had kindly held open the door to a smaller, private dining room and who was now in the process of closing it behind them.
She glared at Tristan, her heart beating a mile a minute, as he let her down, and stalked to the other side of the room, feeling marginally calmer with a two-metre-long mahogany dining table between them.
Tristan stood with his hands in his pockets and stared at her. ‘They’ll think I’m in love, I expect. Either that…’ He paused as if to gauge her reaction. ‘Or they’ll think I’ve lost my mind.’
‘Well, we both know the former isn’t the truth,’ she snapped. ‘Don’t play games with me, Tristan. I don’t like them.’
Tristan blew out a breath. ‘Lily, I need to talk to you, and this seemed the only way to achieve that objective.’ He circled the table towards her, and stopped when he realised she was moving as well—but in the opposite direction. ‘Would you stop that? I’m not going to bite you.’
Lily stared at him. He was so rakishly appealing with his ruffled hair and formal wedding attire it made her heart feel as if it was enclosed in a giant fist. She felt her old survival instincts rise up and did her best to blank out the pain of being so close to him and yet so far away.
‘I’m getting a little tired of you thinking you can pick me up and carry me wherever you want. Next time it happens I won’t be so concerned about creating a scene,’ she warned with haughty disdain.
‘Would you have come if I’d asked?’
His voice was soft, almost like a caress, and it confused her senses. Made her body soften. Lily did her best to clamp down on the rioting emotions running through her and focused on his question.
She lifted her chin and tried to stop her lips from trembling. Of course she wouldn’t have come with him. She had nothing to say to him that wouldn’t involve making a complete fool of herself.
‘Say what you have to say so we can get out of here. I don’t have much time left,’ she added, thankful that her voice sounded steadier than she felt.
‘Time left for what?’
Lily noted Tristan’s sharp tone and decided now was not the time to tell him she was booked on the red-eye back to New York this very evening. After enduring the rehearsal dinner and feeling so tense a slight breeze might have snapped her in half she had changed her travel plans so she could head back to London and fly home to New York early.
Being around Tristan and watching him smoulder with Lady Sutton last night had nearly done her in. She loved him too much to imagine him with another woman, so seeing him with one who could offer him everything she couldn’t was just unendurable. Better that she start her life again without him as soon as possible. Facing her fears head-on…or perhaps just running away. She didn’t care which at this point. Her only criteria was that when she finally broke down she did so in private.
Lily steeled herself to look at him and lifted her gaze once more to his. He stood across the table from her, his expression as fierce as an angry warlord facing down a known enemy. She had no idea why. Had something happened earlier that she didn’t know about and for which she was about to get the blame again?
‘Are you going to answer my question?’ he asked, almost too politely.
‘Are you going to answer mine?’ she parried.
Tristan exhaled and ran an agitated hand through his hair. He looked tired and strung out—very unlike his usually composed self.
‘Lily this doesn’t have to end.’
Lily, stared at him, not sure what he was referring to.
‘We don’t have to end,’ he clarified, a strange, shadowed look settling on his face.
