‘Yes.’
‘And?’
Kassi lifted her shoulders in a light shrugging gesture. ‘He says he’s content to wait…as long as he can be in my life.’
‘That bothers you?’
‘A little.’
‘Ah.’
‘Would you care to elaborate on that?’
Romy couldn’t help the light laugh that bubbled from her lips. ‘Not right now, no.’
The waiter presented their bill, and they paid their share, finished their coffee, and walked out together to their cars.
Kassi leant forward and brushed her cheek to Romy’s. ‘Let’s do this again soon.’
It was almost eleven when Romy garaged the Mini alongside Xavier’s Maybach, and she was crossing the lobby when Xavier appeared from his home office.
Her heart quickened to a faster beat at the sight of him. He’d exchanged his formal business suit for casual trousers and a collarless shirt, the sleeves of which were rolled back over each forearm.
He projected a dangerous sexual masculinity, and she felt her insides begin to curl as he offered her a lazy smile.
‘Hi.’ Her voice didn’t sound quite like her own, and she paused as he set the alarm and moved towards her.
‘Hi, yourself,’ he drawled. ‘How was dinner?’
‘Fine. We caught up.’
‘Good.’
Romy crossed to the staircase, aware he moved at her side as they ascended to the upper level, and she entered their bedroom, shrugged out of her jacket, then slid off her stilettos. A move which left her at a height disadvantage.
It was ridiculous to feel overwhelmed as he began freeing the buttons on his shirt, and when he reached for the belt at his waist, she crossed to the en suite, removed her make-up, her clothes, then she donned sleep pants and tank top, caught back her hair, and re-entered the bedroom…to find the light dimmed and Xavier stretched out beneath the bedcovers with his hands crossed behind his head.
There was a part of her that wanted to slide into bed, have him reach out and just hold her. Let her snuggle close within those strong arms, tuck her head into the curve of his shoulder, breathe in the scent of his clean skin, the faint muskiness of man, and feel secure in the knowledge here was where she was meant to be.
To fall asleep knowing some time through the night he’d seek her for the loving he did so well. Too well, for she could almost feel the violently sweet sensation encompass her body, ensuring his slightest caress would send fire coursing through her veins.
‘Come here.’ His voice was a husky sensual drawl, and her eyes widened as he freed one arm and held out his hand.
‘It’s late,’ she managed and saw his mouth curve into a smile.
‘And you’re tired.’ He threaded his fingers through her own as she reached him. ‘Headache?’ With a slight tug he eased her down beside him and pressed his lips to her temple.
‘Just…it’s been a long day.’
He’d seen the slight darkness apparent in her eyes, the faint shadows beneath them. ‘Want to tell me about it?’
It felt good, better than good to lie curved in against him. It reminded her of other times when they’d lain like this and the cares of the day had dissipated beneath the soothing touch of his hand, his lips.
‘Can I take a rain check?’
He shifted position to lean over her as his mouth closed over her own, teasing a little as the tip of his tongue explored hers, easing inside to tantalize at will.
She felt his hands slide to her waist, find the hem of her tank top and slip beneath it to seek the soft contours of each breast, cup them, then caress the tender peaks with his thumbs until they hardened beneath his touch.
‘You don’t play fair,’ Romy groaned as his mouth slid down to the sensitive hollow at the base of her throat.
‘Tell me to stop.’
Except it was too late as he slid the tank top high and covered one sensitized peak with his mouth, laving it until she arched up against him. She cried out as he began to suckle, and the breath hitched in her throat as he slid a hand beneath her sleep pants, sought and found her sensitive clitoris and brought it to vibrant pulsating life.
It was almost more than she could bear, and she helped him get rid of her sleep wear, then he was there, entering her in one slow slide, stilling as her inner muscles contracted around him before he began to move.
Slowly at first, almost withdrawing completely before surging in to the hilt, gradually increasing each thrust until she caught and matched his rhythm…and it was she who cried out, she who clung as he held her at the brink, before tipping them both into a gloriously sensual free fall.
This, Romy mused on the edge of sleep, was the one good thing in this marriage. In the dark of night she could almost believe the past and the now were entwined…even though she knew them to be separate entities.
It almost gave her hope for the future…almost.
Except in the light of day her perception would change as reality intervened.
CHAPTER EIGHT
IT WAS a beautiful early summer’s evening, the sky paling to an opalescent glow as dusk descended. Street lamps sprang alive as Xavier eased the luxury Mercedes through the wide tree-lined streets towards the city hotel where the night’s charity event was being held.
It’ll be fine, Romy assured herself silently as she attempted to still the fluttering nerves in her stomach. You’ve attended a few of these events with Xavier in the past. There’ll be several guests whom you’ve met before…familiar names forming part of the city’s social elite.
The Collette Dinnigan gown complimented her colouring and petite stature with its floaty style and gorgeous mix of aqua and varied shades of blue. Strappy stilettos lent added height, and the diamond earrings and matching pendant provided understated class.
To aid a sophisticated image, she’d swept her hair into an elaborate twist and secured it with a stylish comb. Carefully applied make-up appeared minimal with emphasis on her eyes and a touch of blusher to her cheeks. Soft colour emphasized the curve of her mouth.
Five hours, Romy reminded herself, where she’d smile, make conversation, sip excellent wine and nibble on designer food.
How difficult could it be?
‘You have no need to be nervous.’
The sound of Xavier’s faintly accented drawl brought a wry smile to her lips.
‘Sure,’ she said. ‘And cows jump over the moon.’
His husky chuckle curled round her nerves and tugged a little. ‘We’ve done this before, if you recall.’
‘Before being the operative term.’ A time when she’d imagined herself to be gloriously in love with the man at her side. Except now the circumstances had changed.
‘Relax.’
And she could do that?
Romy merely cast him a telling look, then focused her attention on the scene beyond the windscreen as Xavier entered the traffic lane leading to the hotel entrance.
Cameras, lights, action, she thought silently as a uniformed attendant opened the passenger door and moved to one side in order for her to alight.
She was dimly aware of Xavier moving to her side as an attendant drove the luxury Mercedes down into the underground parking area…and the necessity to smile as she braved a camera flash.
Xavier DeVasquez’s presence attracted media attention by virtue of his financial position and his known generosity to certain charities.
The fact that Romy accompanied him would cause speculation. The existence of her wedding ring…and his own, would only add to the rumour mill. Inevitably, the connection to Andre Picard’s fall from grace would be made, and conjecture would run rife.
So what? Wasn’t there an axiom that tabled one should smile in the face of adversity?
So she’d smile until her facial muscles ached, talk the talk as if all was right in her world.
Did Xavier have any idea what it cost her to pretend? Perhaps…not that it helped.
The event was being held
in the hotel ballroom, and the numerous guests converged in the adjoining lounge where waitstaff served drinks and bite-size canapés.
Men attired in dark evening suits, crisp white linen and black bow tie…a mix of wealthy retirees, captains of industry and the upwardly mobile young scions.
Women in designer gowns, wearing jewellery that would fund a Third World nation, beautifully coiffed, exquisitely made-up…whose main purpose was to schmooze, gossip and, in the case of some, keep an eagle eye on their husbands, should their attention wander.
The reverse also applied, Romy deduced, as she glimpsed one society maven flirt with an attractive man who could have been her son, had she been a child bride.
Xavier’s presence garnered interest, heightened by the young woman at his side, and Romy could almost sense the ripple of ‘isn’t that one of his former mistresses? Romy…who? The name’s on the tip of my tongue.’
OK, so she’d admit to being sensitive. Who wouldn’t be, in a similar circumstance? Yet not so sensitive she’d cut and run.
Suck it up, a tiny imp prompted, and play pretend.
‘Xavier.’ The husky purr was definitely female. ‘Darling, do introduce me to your…companion.’
The slight pause was deliberate, and Romy’s mouth curved into a teasing smile as the woman looked in silent askance at the man at her side.
‘Madeleine,’ he acknowledged politely. ‘My wife, Romy.’ He caught Romy’s hand and lifted it to his lips. ‘Querida, Madeleine Forbes-Smythe.’
Oh, my. What woman wouldn’t melt beneath the deliberately sensual heat apparent in those dark, almost black eyes?
‘Wife?’
It was amazing how one simple word could hold such a varying degree of emotion, and Romy managed a deliciously rapt expression as she turned towards Madeleine. ‘Yes.’ She almost added a trite cliche, then decided against it.
‘I had no idea,’ the woman managed with credible pleasure. ‘I take it the marriage is very recent?’
‘A week ago,’ Xavier said with an indolent smile.
‘I must offer my congratulations. And add how delighted I am for you both.’ The smile was almost as fake as Madeleine’s beautifully lacquered nails.
‘How kind,’ Romy acknowledged sweetly. ‘Thank you.’ She tilted her head and offered Xavier a stunning smile. ‘Darling, would you mind fetching me some champagne?’
All he needed to do was signal a hovering waiter, and within seconds she was nursing a frosted flute of sparkling wine.
‘Isn’t this fun?’ She lifted the flute in silent challenge. ‘Want to share, darling?’
His eyes held hers as he wrapped his fingers round her own and brought the flute to his lips, savouring its contents slowly, then he lowered his hand and idly released it.
‘Do you plan any further sharing?’
‘Possibly.’ Her eyes assumed a challenging gleam. ‘If we’re served different meals.’
He leant in close and said quietly, ‘Don’t forget I get to take you home.’
She sent him a sparkling look. ‘Hmm, can’t wait.’
His soft laughter sounded close to her ear. ‘Is that an invitation?’
‘No.’
‘Liar.’
She felt his lips brush her temple and tamped down the languorous warmth sweeping through her body. Denying him meant denying herself the passion he managed to arouse with very little effort at all.
It was perhaps as well the ballroom doors opened, and the guests were invited to assume their seats at the numerous reserved tables.
Tickets were presented, directions offered, and Romy was supremely conscious of Xavier’s hand at her waist as they made their way to the front of the large room.
Was it her imagination, or were they garnering overt attention? Debatable whether the cause was news of their marriage beginning to spread, or merely curiosity regarding Xavier DeVasquez’s latest woman.
Round tables seating ten were soon filled, drink waiters hovered whilst unintrusive background music filtered through speakers, and there was sufficient time to converse before the chairwoman of the charity organization took the podium and presented a speech lauding the amount raised, while encouraging the evening’s guests to donate generously to the cause.
Their seating plan featured two couples whom Romy vaguely remembered meeting at a similar function several years ago, a beautiful blonde who openly flirted with her companion whilst sending covert glances in Xavier’s direction, and two men in their early forties whom Romy knew to be gay.
The waitstaff began serving starters, and Romy surreptitiously observed the blonde’s play for attention.
‘Don’t let her bother you,’ a male voice advised quietly, and she turned slightly to face the young man seated beside her. Robert, she recalled, whose partner, Anthony, was big in interior decorating.
‘It’s good to see you back with Xavier.’
Wonder if you’d say that if you knew the circumstances? Words she refrained from uttering aloud. ‘Thank you,’ she said graciously.
There was entertainment throughout the evening, featuring a comedian, a parade of designer wear, and a singer.
The comedian’s appearance featured between the starter and the serving of the main course. A skilled raconteur, he was a riot, and had everyone laughing at his anecdotes and jokes. He made it easy for the guests to lighten up, including Romy, who clapped delightedly when he simply stood still and silent on stage for several seconds before falling to his knees begging for applause.
Xavier leant close at one stage during the routine and curved an arm loosely round her waist, and for the space of a few minutes she was conscious only of him, the warmth of physical contact, together with the exclusive scent of his cologne. Aware, on a subliminal level, of his power and sexual appeal…the promise of passion that seeped into her bones and spread throughout her body.
How did he do that?
Was he similarly affected?
Oh, get real, she admonished silently. It’s an act. Except he wasn’t the only one who could act.
The blonde seated opposite had rachetted up the flirting stakes, to the slight embarrassment of her partner, and Romy placed a hand on Xavier’s thigh.
An action which drew his immediate attention, and she met the dark eyes close to her own with equanimity.
‘You have an admirer.’
‘Andrea?’
‘Shall I become all proprietorial and flash my wedding ring?’ Romy posed sweetly. ‘Or would that be a little too much, do you think?’
‘She’s merely playing a game.’
‘Ah,’ she ventured sagely. ‘Perhaps I should play, too.’ She lifted a hand and trailed light fingers down his cheek…only for him to capture her hand with his own and bring it to his lips.
Her mouth parted as he took the tip of one finger and gently bit it with his teeth. ‘Not fair.’
Xavier merely smiled and carried their joined hands down onto his lap. For a wild second she was tempted to move her hand, only for his fingers to tighten on her own.
‘Can’t take the heat, huh?’ she taunted softly, and saw his eyes darken.
‘You’ll keep.’
The waitstaff came out in force as they moved swiftly to present the main course, and Romy concentrated on the artistically arrayed food.
Models took to the catwalk following the main course, displaying a selection of the latest fashion in evening wear, formal and casual wear. The background music moved up a few beats, strobe lights provided special effects, and there was resounding applause as the last model disappeared backstage.
Dessert followed, then coffee, and it became the time of the evening when guests moved from their reserved seating and caught up with friends.
Soon, Romy perceived with a degree of relief, the night would be over and they could leave.
Except she hadn’t factored in just how quickly news of their marriage had spread, ensuring their passage from the ballroom became stalled as various guests sought to offer the
ir congratulations.
It wasn’t difficult to stand at Xavier’s side with his hand at her waist and smile. Although the smile almost slipped a fraction when his hand slid low to rest against the curve of her bottom…and stayed there.
If he was intent on making a statement as to their togetherness, that would probably work…the question had to be, for how long.
It seemed inevitable a journalist and photographer from the media should request a formal statement, and Xavier acquiesced with a few brief details.
‘I understand you’ve recently renewed the relationship.’
He spared Romy a deep, passionate look that was wholly primitive. ‘Yes.’
Wow…it was all she could do not to melt in a puddle at his feet. Even though she knew it was all for the press.
There was the flash of a camera, and the moment was captured for posterity…undoubtedly set to appear in major Australian newspapers the next day.
‘Three years after you broke up.’
Oh, my…facts relayed by a reliable source or three, Romy perceived wryly, aware the social rumour mill had sprung into action.
Xavier skilfully brought the interview to a conclusion. ‘If you’ll excuse us?’
The witching hour of midnight fell as Xavier requested the concierge to summon the Mercedes to the front entrance, and Romy bit back a sigh of relief as Xavier eased the powerful car into the night-time traffic vacating the city.
‘That was fun,’ Romy said as she spared him a cynical glance as they paused at a set of traffic lights.
‘It could have been worse.’
‘Really?’ The emphasis was deliberate and earned her a darkly quizzical smile. ‘Perhaps you’d care to explain the touchy-feely thing happening back there.’
‘You found it objectionable?’
No, she hadn’t…that was the thing. She’d also restrained the instinctive urge to lean in against him and take pleasure from the moment.
‘You’d prefer me to be distant? Neglectful of you?’
Her answer was swift and without reservation. ‘Don’t you care what people think?’
‘No.’
The external lights illuminated the mansion as Xavier used a remote to open the gates and another to activate the garage door as he entered the circular driveway.
Bride, Bought and Paid For Page 8
