The Reunion Lie

by Lucy King

  ‘Then what was my son doing smiling at you like that?’

  For a moment Zoe forgot her manners and stared at her. ‘Like what?’

  ‘Sort of warmly. Protectively.’ Dan’s mother tilted her head and considered. ‘It was odd. Unusual. When I saw it I had to come over and find out why.’

  ‘Well, I am his date,’ said Zoe, telling herself to ignore the heat that flooded through her at the thought that Dan might feel warm and protective of her because he probably felt like that of all the women he dated. ‘I’ve just arrived. I imagine he wanted to make sure I was all right.’

  ‘His date?’ said Catherine Forrester, who seemed to have an unerring talent for picking out the details that Zoe least wanted to talk about.

  ‘That’s right.’

  Her eyes narrowed. ‘But I understood you hardly knew each other.’

  OK, so this was definitely veering into minefield territory, thought Zoe, reminding herself to think carefully and concentrate. ‘Yes, well, we’ve-ah-kind of got to know each other a bit better since the whole fake engagement fiasco.’

  ‘How well?’

  ‘Well-ish.’

  At the thought of just how well she and Dan knew each other, at the very least physically, she felt her blush deepen to a shade that probably clashed horribly with her pale pink outfit.

  ‘I see,’ said Dan’s mother, clearly and mortifyingly seeing far too much. ‘And what are my son’s intentions towards you?’

  ‘I don’t think he has any.’ Unfortunately. Although she was here, wasn’t she, meeting his family and friends...?

  ‘Do you have any towards him?’

  Slightly disturbed by the idea that she suddenly didn’t like the fact that they hadn’t discussed the future and deciding that on balance, despite her brave words, she couldn’t really tell Dan’s mother that she was simply using him for sex, Zoe said instead, ‘None at all.’

  ‘Are you certain?’

  ‘Completely.’ Although, God, she’d love to have a few. Maybe when she had a chance she ought to ask him where he thought they were heading, if they were heading anywhere at all.

  ‘Hmm, pity,’ she said, frowning for a moment before her brow cleared and a gleam of hope flickered in her eyes. ‘But you’re here. With Dan. And that’s a definite improvement.’

  ‘Please don’t get your hopes up,’ said Zoe, injecting a hint of firmness into her voice as much for her benefit as Dan’s mother, ‘because I’m really not sure it means anything.’

  The gleam flickered more strongly. ‘It might mean grandchildren.’

  OK, enough, thought Zoe, mentally stiffening her spine. She definitely needed to nip this in the bud because it really wasn’t fair to allow his mother to think this might be a possibility when in all likelihood it wasn’t. ‘Absolutely not.’

  The older woman’s face fell and she looked so crestfallen that even though she had no reason to Zoe nevertheless felt awful.

  But then she rallied and smiled, and Zoe slowly let out the breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding. ‘Oh, well, never mind,’ Mrs Forrester said airily. ‘Perhaps I’ll have better luck next time.’

  Next time? Next time? For some unfathomable reason the thought of Dan with someone else had bile suddenly rising up inside her but Zoe swallowed it back because of course there’d be a next time. In the absence of any discussion about the future, she’d always assumed that once they’d had enough of each other they’d both move on. Didn’t mean she had to like it, though, did it? ‘I do hope so,’ she said, just about resisting the urge to grind her teeth.

  Catherine Forrester glanced around at the rapidly filling church and straightened. ‘Well, I’d better go and sit down. It’s been delightful to meet you anyway.’

  And with that she patted Zoe’s hand, and was off.

  * * *

  By the time Dan had managed to shake off Beth, the chief bridesmaid, with the vague promise of a dance later, and had tied up a few last-minute best-man duties everyone had decamped to the marquee for the reception. With the sheer number of guests it was quite a while before he found Zoe, but eventually he spotted her on her own studying the table plan.

  When he’d spied her in the church, once he’d recovered from the oddly intense wave of relief that she was actually there given her original reluctance and the whole mess he’d made of things before, all he’d been able to see was the black and pink pillbox hat perched on the side of her head and the hint of a pale pink outfit.

  Now, from behind, he could see that her hair was up in a chignon thing that his fingers itched to unpin and that the hint of pale pink was a coat that flared out from her waist to her knees and made him want to find out what lay beneath it.

  As he walked towards her he saw her straighten and, he thought, tense a little. When he reached her he put a hand on her neck, where it met her shoulder, felt her shiver and heard her breath hitch.

  ‘Hello,’ he said softly against her ear.

  ‘Hi.’

  ‘OK?’

  She leaned back against him and smiled. ‘Much better now. How’s the best man?’

  ‘Bearing up.’

  ‘The groom?’

  ‘Besotted.’

  ‘And how was the chief bridesmaid?’

  ‘Limpet-y.’

  ‘Yes, she did seem almost surgically attached to you as you escorted her down the aisle. Rather beautiful, though, in a louche sexy kind of way.’

  The hint of jealousy in Zoe’s voice made him want to punch the air with something like triumph, which was strange given that displays of jealousy generally brought him out in a rash.

  ‘Perhaps,’ he conceded, because whatever else she might be Beth was beautiful, and to deny it would only insult Zoe’s considerable intelligence. ‘But she has a laugh like a hyena and isn’t afraid to use it.’

  ‘How unfortunate.’

  ‘It’s more than unfortunate. It’s been absolute agony. My eardrums are only just recovering.’

  In her three-inch heels, Zoe only had to lift herself onto her toes then angle and tilt her head and her mouth was at his ear. ‘Want me to kiss you better?’

  Dan’s pulse spiked. ‘That sounds like the best idea I’ve heard in hours,’ he muttered, and unable to stand a moment of not touching her properly any longer he slid his hand down to the small of her back and guided her round the eight-foot high easel upon which sat the giant board.

  Out of sight of prying eyes he took her in his arms and lowered his mouth to hers. Zoe wound her arms around his neck and pressed tightly to him as the kiss deepened and heated and threatened to spiral out of control as it always did, and Dan wondered if anyone would notice if they just slipped away and spent the afternoon in bed.

  For a moment he was sorely tempted, because however much hot explosive sex they had it never seemed to be enough, but then the laughter and chatter of the guests filtered through the fog in his head and reality intruded and he figured that it might make for an awkward moment if it came to the speeches and he was conspicuous by his absence. So he pulled away reluctantly, his breathing ragged and his body aching with a need that would unfortunately have to wait to be fulfilled.

  ‘God, you smell gorgeous,’ Zoe murmured, burying her head in his neck and nuzzling for a moment before drawing back and smiling up at him.

  ‘You look gorgeous.’ Even more gorgeous now that her eyes sparkled and her cheeks were flushed. ‘Great hat.’ He pulled her forwards a little so that he could inspect it more closely and feel her breasts pressing against his chest once more, sucker for punishment that he was. ‘And not a speck of dust. I’m impressed.’

  ‘I had to hoover it.’

  Dan laughed softly. ‘Then it deserves to mingle.’

  ‘I think it might like that.’

  Peeling hers
elf off him, she adjusted her coat then dug around in her handbag and took out a mirror and lipstick. Opening the mirror, she checked her hat and her hair and then quickly repaired the damage he’d done to her mouth.

  ‘How do I look?’ she asked with a grimace that suggested she wasn’t fishing for a compliment but the truth.

  Good enough to eat, he thought, balling his hands into fists to stop himself reaching for her and messing up her lipstick again. ‘Lovely.’

  She dropped the mirror and lipstick back into her bag and snapped it closed. ‘Not too badly ravished?’

  ‘Not nearly as ravished as I’d like.’

  ‘Don’t worry, there’s always later.’

  ‘This is true.’

  She smiled. ‘I’ll look forward to it.’

  ‘So will I.’

  Wondering if he ought to be worried at the way she had him wanting to abandon his self-control the minute he looked into her eyes, Dan took her hand and led her into the throng and tried not to think about later because thinking about later would only make walking even trickier than it already was.

  ‘I see you met my mother,’ he said, deciding that if ever there was a topic to douse the libido that was it.

  ‘I did.’

  ‘And you survived.’

  ‘Just about.’

  ‘What did you talk about?’ he asked, although with hindsight he wasn’t at all sure he wanted to know.

  ‘This and that.’

  ‘Sounds ominous.’

  ‘It wasn’t. It was fine. She was charming.’

  ‘She can be when she’s not trying to tie a noose around my neck. Have some champagne before you meet my sister, as you inevitably will since her curiosity rivals my mother’s.’

  He plucked two flutes off the tray of a passing waiter and handed her one.

  ‘Thank you,’ said Zoe, glancing around as she took a sip. ‘You know, Samantha Newark would give her eye-teeth to be here.’

  ‘If she was I’d have her thrown out.’

  ‘Chivalry,’ she said. ‘I like it.’

  So did he, which was another incongruity to add to the collection he seemed to be gathering this afternoon, given he’d spent quite a large chunk of his adult life avoiding it in case it gave anyone any wrong ideas. ‘I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you arrived.’

  ‘That’s OK. It’s turning out to be a lot less stressful than I’d imagined.’

  ‘Good.’

  ‘You must have been working hard,’ she said. ‘The groom looked more relaxed than a groom should.’

  ‘That was probably down to the sedative I slipped into his coffee at breakfast.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘No, of course not,’ he said with a shrug. ‘Oliver just knew he was marrying the right person.’

  Zoe looked at him over the rim of her glass. ‘Have you always been anti-marriage?’

  He raised his eyebrows. ‘What makes you think I’m anti-marriage?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know,’ she said dryly. ‘Could it be the weary cynicism in your voice? Or was it that shudder that ran through you when I told the girls we’d been going out for a whole six months back in that bar?’

  ‘You caught that?’

  ‘Impossible not to. I kind of assumed that the shudder at a six-month commitment would extend to marriage. And I imagine your parents’ relationship didn’t exactly set the best example.’

  ‘Well, no, not particularly,’ he said, although he wasn’t sure that here and now was quite the right place and time for an in-depth discussion about his attitude towards marriage and commitment.

  ‘What is your longest relationship?’ she asked.

  ‘A year,’ he muttered.

  ‘That’s pretty good.’

  Good? Hah. ‘It was diabolical.’

  ‘Mine’s three months. Was yours the one with the traitorous ex?’

  Dan felt his jaw clench as the memory of it surged through him. ‘That’s the one.’

  ‘Did you love her?’

  ‘I thought I did,’ he said, ruthlessly stamping it down because he was well over it now, ‘but, well, you know what happened there.’

  Zoe took a sip of champagne and sniffed. ‘I would never hurt you like that,’ she said fiercely.

  ‘How can you be so sure?’

  ‘Well, for one thing I’ve learned the benefit of putting things out there and talking things through instead of bottling everything up and thinking it’ll work out in the end. Because it never does, and a lot of hurt feelings not to mention hideously awful misunderstandings can be avoided with a simple conversation.’

  Dan grinned. ‘What else, oh, wise one?’

  Zoe shrugged. ‘Oh, well, I don’t really know. I guess that’s it for the moment. I’m still learning.’

  ‘So idealistic.’

  Her smile faded and her eyebrows rose. ‘Don’t patronise me.’

  ‘I’m not. I genuinely wish I had your faith.’

  She frowned. ‘Hmm. Yes, well, I can see why you’d be put off relationships for life.’

  ‘I’m not.’

  Dan hadn’t meant to say that, the words just sort of slipped out, but now they had, maybe they were true. He was in a relationship with Zoe and, OK, so it hadn’t been going on for all that long, but by and large the press had left them alone and things so far had been ticking along quite nicely. So all in all far from being put off relationships he rather thought he actually might be in favour of the things.

  Her brow cleared and a light appeared in her eyes. ‘It hasn’t?’

  ‘No.’

  Zoe nodded, as if to herself. ‘OK, well, in that case maybe I ought to practise what I preach.’

  ‘What?’

  She took a deep breath and something about the way she pulled her shoulders back and lifted her chin had his senses on high alert. ‘What are we doing here, Dan?’ she said. ‘And I don’t mean here at this wedding. I mean—’

  But whatever Zoe did mean Dan didn’t catch because from somewhere he heard a throaty laugh and his head filled with a whooshing kind of noise that blocked out pretty much everything.

  And then his brain cleared, and as trepidation began to flow through his veins he turned to locate the source of the laugh and when he found it, when he saw her, all the warmth and light that Zoe aroused in him fled, and as memories slammed into his head his blood turned to ice and his stomach turned to lead.

  TWELVE

  Bugger.

  The question about where they were heading that Zoe had plucked up so much courage to ask had fallen on deaf ears, because while a second ago Dan’s focus had been totally on her, now it was most definitely not.

  Now, instead of looking deep into her eyes as if they were the only two people in the marquee and enveloping her with a warmth that not even the chilly December air could pierce, he was staring at a point in the distance, his face utterly expressionless and his eyes more shuttered than she’d ever seen them. It was as if he’d sort of switched himself off and the sudden startling change in him was bewildering to say the least.

  ‘Dan?’ she said, wondering whether she ought to be a bit worried at the ashen pallor of his face and the tension suddenly gripping his body.

  He didn’t answer and she got the impression that he was barely aware she was there. He looked as if he were somewhere else entirely, and she would have found the whole thing rather unflattering if she hadn’t been so concerned.

  ‘Dan?’ she said again, only this time a bit louder.

  He whipped his gaze back to her and as he looked down at her, his eyes completely blank, she shivered with a weird sense of apprehension.

  ‘What?’ he said, so abruptly, so coldly that she took a quick step back in shock.

  ‘A
re you all right?’

  ‘Of course I am,’ he snapped, clearly not all right at all. ‘Why wouldn’t I be?’

  ‘Because you’re all tense and you’ve gone very pale. You look like you’ve seen a ghost.’

  He shot her a humourless smile. ‘Merely an ex-girlfriend.’

  ‘Oh?’ said Zoe, trying and, she suspected, failing to keep the suddenly rampant curiosity out of her voice. And then because of the strength of his reaction it didn’t take her long to land on the heart-sinking conclusion that this wasn’t just any old girlfriend. It was The Ex-Girlfriend, the deceitful ambitious cow he’d loved, who’d selfishly put her career first without even discussing it, and torn him to pieces. Nothing ‘mere’ about that at all. ‘Where?’

  ‘By the ice sculpture.’

  ‘It’s a vodka luge.’

  He frowned at her. ‘What?’

  ‘It’s a vodka luge not an ice sculpture.’

  ‘Does it matter?’

  ‘It does if I’m going to have to drown my sorrows.’

  Which she might well end up doing because she’d thought all she’d have to contend with was an overenthusiastic chief bridesmaid, but now it looked as if Beth—as she’d discovered she was called—was the least of her worries. Ugh. As she’d suspected when Dan had first issued the invitation this was turning into the wedding from hell, although not for any of the reasons she’d anticipated.

  Bracing herself, Zoe scanned the guests near the vodka luge for a likely candidate. ‘Which one is she?’

  ‘The blonde.’

  She followed his line of sight, craned her neck to see round a particularly tall man and her jaw dropped. ‘Natalie Blake?’

  Out of the corner of her eye she noticed his jaw tighten. ‘Yes.’

  ‘She’s your ex?’

  ‘Do you have to go on about it?’

  ‘Crikey,’ said Zoe faintly, not entirely sure whether to be impressed or devastated but suspecting she was probably both.

  Natalie Blake was a world-famous supermodel whose face and body were on display pretty much everywhere you looked and every time you switched on the television. She was one of the few celebrities Zoe had actually recognised this afternoon, and not just because the picture of her wantonly lying back on that billboard had inspired Zoe’s unforgivable descent into statistical inaccuracy relating to lingerie.