Harry had Timmy in his arms and was making funny faces at the baby.
On one hand, she was relieved that the Hunts had so generously welcomed not just Timmy, but Molly and Jack, as well. On the other hand, it was a definite worry.
“Where’s Gerry?” Gray’s hand on her shoulder was clasping her a little more tightly against his side.
Christina lifted an indolent shoulder at his deliberate change of subject. “Around here somewhere. My other son may not hold the reins to a fortune like HuntCom, but at least he knows what it’s like to honor his mother. Of course he wasn’t raised by a boor like Harry.” Oblivious to Amelia’s reluctance, she caught Amelia’s cold hands in hers again and leaned forward, brushing her lips over her cheek. “Congratulations, dear. Snagging Gray can’t have been easy.”
Cornelia appeared beside the other woman, almost like a fairy godmother sent to prevent Amelia from publicly embarrassing herself by wrenching away from the woman who’d borne her brand-new husband. “Christina,” she hailed musically, “don’t you look particularly beautiful tonight. You can’t help outshining every female here.”
Christina smiled coolly at Cornelia who, in Amelia’s opinion, was far lovelier in her golden-colored gown than Christina’s gilded perfection.
Seeing them standing there together, there was no denying the similarity between the two women.
Similar ages, though Christina’s extraordinarily and undoubtedly surgically smooth face lacked the soft lines that gave Cornelia’s features a wealth of mature beauty. Their hair was a similar shade. And given their color choice in gowns, their tastes had run along similar lines—at least for this occasion.
But Christina was cold in her gold dress.
Cornelia, on the other hand, glowed like a warm beacon.
“It figures that you’d be here, Cornelia. Never far from Harry’s side, are you.”
“Not when I can help it,” Cornelia agreed, her tone still gracious. “Go on over and say hello. I’m sure he’d be delighted.”
Christina lifted an eyebrow, as if the comment were unquestioned. She leaned up to brush a kiss over Gray’s jaw, and swept away, heading toward the family’s table.
Cornelia met Amelia’s eyes the moment Christina was out of earshot. She magically produced a small, delicate hankie almost out of nowhere, and smudged it against the lipstick that Christina had left behind on Amelia’s cheek.
“Two hundred other women here, and not a smudge of lipstick.” She tsked under her breath, rolling her eyes humorously.
She obviously didn’t let the other woman get under her skin.
“That’s Christina,” Gray muttered, taking his hand away from Amelia’s shoulder finally, and dashing his own handkerchief over the smear on his chin. “One of a kind. Thank God.”
“And I’d better make certain that she doesn’t send Harry off the edge of reason or damage that sweet baby for life,” Cornelia murmured as she headed off toward the family’s table.
Gray sighed faintly. “I’m sorry. I should have warned you about her.”
Amelia slipped the squarely folded handkerchief from his fingers. “You didn’t quite get it all.” She reached up and dabbed away the last little smear of coral then she turned the lipstick inside the folds. His fingers brushed hers as he took it again and tucked it back in his pocket. “Is what she said true? About replacing Harry?”
“Yes.”
She didn’t want to wonder if the timing had anything to do with their marriage, but she wondered anyway. And decided it didn’t matter. Her motivation to help Daphne wouldn’t be changed even if he’d achieved more than he’d implied. “Then you do deserve some congratulations. And you don’t have to be sorry. Look at the bright side. Everyone who was still waiting to greet us disappeared the second they saw your mother.”
It was true.
The line of guests waiting to greet them had miraculously dispersed.
“Small mercies,” Gray muttered. “I’m starving.” He tucked his hand beneath her bare elbow, the picture of a solicitous groom, even though there was a sudden, distinctive clink of metal against crystal.
Only she could hear his whispered oath. “We should have eloped.”
The tinkling sound was repeated, joined by dozens more as it swelled to a noisy demand.
Gray smiled out at the crowd, lifting a hand in wry acknowledgment before turning to her.
“They’re expecting us to kiss,” he said for her ears.
Who else other than her saw the tension behind his apparent ease? She swallowed. Lifted her chin a little.
He brushed a chaste kiss over her lips that brought on a spate of heckling and laughter that seemed oddly out of place among all the formality.
“You can do better than that, Gray.” One man in particular was louder than the rest as he strode closer. Amelia almost did a double take, for his resemblance to Gray was striking. “Or maybe you need me to step in for you. Hello, sweet thing. I’m Gerry. Younger and longer lasting than old Gray there. Whatcha say? Wanna give me a go? I’ll be a lot more fun on the honeymoon, I’ll bet.” His gray-green eyes were mocking as he stopped in front of Amelia, seemingly prepared to take her right into his arms.
But there was no way he could, considering the way Gray had his arm around her. Almost protectively, it seemed.
But that was probably her imagination.
Still, her hand slid through his arm because, ironically, he seemed a whole lot safer than Gerry. And judging by these two members of Gray’s family, it was almost no wonder he had to go out and hire himself a wife. “We’re not going on a honeymoon but even if we were—”
“No honeymoon?” Gerry nearly spilled his drink when he gave a loud bark of laughter. “Damn, Gray. Nothing ever gets in the way of work for you, does it?”
“I didn’t want to leave my niece and nephews,” Amelia cut in swiftly. It was true in its way. She wouldn’t have wanted to leave them if Gray had ever suggested a honeymoon. Which he hadn’t.
“Oh, right. The rug rats. Nice work, Gray. Doing the whole package deal and all. You’re nothing if not expedient.”
“How much have you drunk tonight, Gerry? Usually it takes you a while longer before you work up to this stage.”
Gerry ignored Gray. “Sure you don’t want to think on it a bit? Gray’s got the dough, of course, but I—”
“—need to start living your own life and stop trying to live mine,” Gray interrupted, his voice flat.
Gerry tossed back his head, laughing uproariously. “But yours is so much more fun, bro. I can’t tell you all the sweet perks I get along the way.”
Amelia saw Marissa Matthews making a beeline for them, seemingly unhampered by the svelte lines of her scarlet gown. “Tonight’s perk is that you can be my dance partner,” she said rather breathlessly, casting them a faintly apologetic look before sending a boldly challenging one at Gerry. “That is if you think you’re up to the task.”
The man’s gaze had dropped to the wealth of smooth skin revealed by Marissa’s down-to-there neckline. It was every bit as plunging as the gown that Amelia had chosen not to wear. But Marissa carried it off with enviable panache.
And fortunately, she carried off Gerry in her wake just as adeptly. “Sorry, sweet thing, but I guess you’re stuck with old Gray after all,” Gerry said, barely looking at Amelia again as he shifted his attention to the tall redhead. “A guy’s gotta do what a guy’s gotta do.”
Marissa’s smile didn’t waver in the least as she tucked her hand through Gerry’s arm and led him away.
“Did Marissa help you pick out that wedding gown you chose for me?” Amelia asked softly as they watched the woman guide an obviously inebriated Gerry back to a table situated on the opposite side of the room.
“Why would you think that?”
Amelia lifted her shoulder, wishing she’d kept her foolish mouth shut. “The gown would suit her perfectly.”
“Yeah, if she were the one getting married. But I chose you. Why’
d you tell Gerry that about a honeymoon? We never even talked about it.”
“I didn’t like the way he acted toward you.”
His brows quirked together for a millisecond. “So you were, what? Protecting me?”
Certain that he was making fun of her, she ignored the question.
He smiled faintly, then. “What’d you do with Lily’s gift?”
Shocked that he would dare to ask, and still annoyed, she gave him a sweet smile. “I’m wearing them.”
His pupils seemed to reduce to pinpoints. He let out a rough breath. “Figures.” Then he dragged her onto the toes of her expensively shod feet and covered her mouth with his.
Amelia knew it was for the benefit of the guests who immediately began cheering at the sight.
She knew it.
But that didn’t stop the blood from rushing through her veins or her heart from feeling as if it would burst out of her chest. It didn’t hinder one tendril of the kaleidoscope of sensation swirling through her and when he finally lifted his head, she barely managed to hold back the protest that nudged at her swollen lips.
Looking somewhat dazed, he grabbed her hand and drew her toward the family’s table. The smiles and laughing faces turned toward them barely penetrated the fog still clogging her senses as Gray pulled out a chair for her next to Harry.
Amy laughed softly as she hurried around the table to help situate the trail of floaty, pleated organza. “Molly was saying that she thinks you look like an angel in your gown. And I think she’s right,” she said. “Like you could float away on a breeze. You couldn’t have chosen a more perfect gown. There. That’s better. Don’t want to catch anything under the chair legs.” She moved back to her seat beside J.T. “Timmy’s been such a doll. Not fussing at all despite the attention he’s been getting.”
“What’s there to fuss about? Except, since Justin and Lily are off at the ranch so much with little Ava, Timmy here probably can’t wait for some more playmates to come along.” Harry lifted the baby until they were tiny-to not-so-tiny nose. “Isn’t that right, Master Timothy?”
Amy blushed prettily, her gaze flying to her husband’s face. Gray had told Amelia of their recent announcement of his sister-in-law’s pregnancy. So far, there was no outward evidence of it, though.
Just a glow that Amelia found herself envying. What would it be like to be so adored?
Jack and Molly were sitting across from them, next to Paula. The suit Jack wore was a sized-down version of Gray’s, and though Amelia had feared he’d be bored out of his mind at the reception, he was showing his male stripes by seeming thoroughly preoccupied by the wealth of beautiful young women present.
Gray leaned closer to her. “What’s the sigh for?”
She hadn’t even realized she had sighed. “He’s growing up.”
Alex grinned, obviously overhearing. “Boys’ll do that. How old were you, Gray, when you realized girls didn’t have cooties after all?”
“Six months,” J.T. inserted wryly to a round of chuckles.
“Twenty-one,” Harry corrected. “When he decided to marry Gwen.”
“Harry,” Cornelia clucked softly as silence settled suddenly around the table.
“What?” The old man tucked the baby back in his arm as if he had been carting babies around all of his life and lifted his champagne flute.
Amelia cast a look toward Gray. She doubted that many could see past his impassive expression over Harry’s apparent gaff. But, she realized, she was beginning to spot the subtleties.
And he was annoyed.
“The only girl I care about now,” he said in a letter-perfect imitation of a besotted man that had her suspecting he’d been studying his Hunt brothers, “is this one.” He picked up Amelia’s hand and pressed his lips to her knuckles.
“Hear, hear.” J.T. lifted his glass, too, which set off a round of toasts that quickly filled that brief, uncomfortable silence, and Amelia’s head was swimming from alcohol by the time the toasts finished, despite the multitude of courses the waiters set before them. Molly’s chin was practically drooping in her lobster bisque when Amelia agreed with Paula’s suggestion that she take the children up to the hotel suite that had been arranged for them.
“I’m going with her for a moment,” Amelia said, scooping Timmy from Harry’s arms.
“Don’t be long,” P.J. warned. “People are beginning to eye that towering cake.”
“You mean you are eyeing the cake,” Alex added, looking indulgent.
P.J. grinned. “What can I say? Lately my sweet tooth has been definitely acting up.”
Avoiding Gray’s gaze, Amelia headed through the ballroom with Paula and the children. She didn’t stop until they reached the elevators, and then, turning Timmy over to her friend seemed to take an incredible amount of willpower. But the baby was finally beginning to show some temper over the upheaval of the day, and she knew it was the best thing for Paula to get him settled for the night.
The elevator doors slid open and Jack nudged Molly inside while Paula hung back with Amelia. “Are you going to be all right?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
Paula looked knowing. “Honey, I saw your face after he kissed you. And it is your wedding night.”
Amelia flushed. The elevator doors began sliding shut. “Jack, hold the doors open.” Her nephew reached for the button panel and the doors silently retreated. “Don’t worry about me,” she said softly to Paula, giving her friend a hug. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate everything you’ve done. Not just today, but—”
“Forget it.” Paula patted her shoulder. “This was a once-in-a-lifetime event for me, too. My daughter will love hearing all the details when I talk with her.”
“Aunt Amelia,” Molly whispered. Her eyes were tired pools, but she still looked pretty as a picture in her floor-length salmon-colored dress. “Are we going home soon?”
Amelia leaned down to her niece. “Remember the big house we visited the other day? That’s where we’ll be going soon. All of our stuff will be moved over there from the apartment by tomorrow. But for tonight, Paula is going to stay with you and Jack and Timmy right here in this hotel.”
“Where are you going to stay?”
Amelia avoided Paula’s knowing gaze. “I’ll be with Gray right here, too.”
“With us?”
It was Jack who answered. “Not in the same room, Mol. They’re married now.”
Molly nodded. “They gotta kiss and stuff.”
Amelia gulped. “Anyway, you can pretend you’re a princess,” she suggested hurriedly and fortunately the notion was an appealing distraction to Molly, who squeezed her neck in a tight hug and went inside the lift to lean her head against her brother’s side. Amelia looked at the two of them. “I wish your mom could’ve seen how you all looked tonight.”
“There will be pictures,” Paula reminded as she stepped through the yawning doors. “Go on now. At least enjoy the party.”
Amelia hugged her arms around herself as the doors slid shut.
That was the problem.
She should be hating every second of it all if only out of loyalty to her sister.
But she wasn’t.
She returned to the ballroom only to hesitate at the threshold, a lifetime of reticence clawing at her to run and hide.
But she couldn’t hide. Not anymore. In the eyes of the world, she was the wife of Grayson Hunt.
But it wasn’t even that particular fact that had her chin lifting and her shoulders straightening as she stepped into the ballroom, her gown softly swishing around her legs as she passed the tables of guests, greeting them all again and hiding the fact that she couldn’t remember a single name among them.
It wasn’t even knowing that she was only there at all because of Daphne’s situation that had Amelia battling down all of that shyness, all of that fear that had plagued her nearly all her life.
It was the man, himself, who drew her.
Chapter Twelve
“Because it’s unnecessary.”
“I have a responsibility—”
“To more than serving out two weeks in that library. The school’s roof won’t cave in if you don’t.”
“Thank you,” she said quietly, “for pointing out how unimportant I am.”
“That’s not—” He broke off when they heard Timmy’s wail through the baby monitor that Amelia had brought down to the breakfast room.
She snatched up the monitor. “Excuse me. Jack, Molly, finish up and get your backpacks ready,” she said as she hurried out of the room. They needed to leave soon so that she could drop off Timmy with Paula, who’d happily agreed to continue watching the baby as long as Amelia needed.
She’d barely made it halfway to the staircase leading to their unfamiliar quarters within the sprawling, complex house before Gray caught her shoulders, dragging her to a halt.
“Nobody said you were unimportant.”
She’d turned down the volume on the monitor, but she could still hear Timmy crying. She felt like joining him and hated herself for it. If she were this sensitive after just a few days, how was she supposed to get through the next few years? “That was certainly the impression I got.”
His brows drew together in a fierce frown. “Are you always crabby like this in the morning?”
She felt her face go hot. She opened her mouth to retort, but naturally, there was no retort ready at her beck and call. She twisted out from his hold and headed for the staircase once more.
“Dammit, Amelia—”
“—I have to see to Timmy.” She started up the steps.
“That’s what Bonny is there for.”
She stopped midstair. “Bonny?” She looked back at him, her voice slowing warily. “Who is Bonny?”
The Bride and the Bargain Page 15
