Billionaire Bosses Collection. Кэрол Мортимер

up, startled, then smiled up at Seb, delighted. “Of course. We didn’t get to before, did we?”

      Before—when they’d been supposed to follow Vangie and Garret’s bridal waltz, Philip had danced with her instead.

      “No,” Seb said shortly and held out a hand to her. Beaming, she took the floor with him.

      Over her head he could see his father smiling and talking to Neely. He was going all out to charm her. Sebastian recognized all the moves, the flatteringly intent expression, the easy flirtatiousness.

      Neely’s back was to him, so Seb wasn’t able to gauge her reaction. But his father had never failed to win a woman over yet.

      He hadn’t expected Philip to cut in on them. He should have, he supposed. It was the sort of blatant, flagrant attention-seeking thing his father would do. Seb knew he should have seen it coming when Philip kept trying to catch his eye, as if they had something to say to each other.

      He’d ignored it because he had nothing to say to Philip. And whatever his father might have to say, Sebastian had no desire to listen.

      Now he didn’t have to talk to Sebastian. He had a more malleable captive audience. And clearly he was making the most of it. He was a better dancer than his son and he twirled Neely in his arms and spun her around and she laughed.

      Sebastian stepped on Vangie’s foot. “Sorry.”

      “It’s all right.” Vangie was in a mood to be pleased by everything. “It’s been a gorgeous wonderful day, hasn’t it?”

      “Mm.” He could see Neely talking now. Philip’s brows lifted, he opened his mouth, then shut it again. Neely kept talking.

      “I couldn’t believe it when Daddy showed up. Thank you for that.”

      “Me? I didn’t do it.” God forbid.

      “You tried,” Vangie said. “He told me he got your message. Told me you said he should be here.”

      “He never responded.”

      “Yes, he did,” Vangie said happily. “He came.”

      And as always, just like bloody Caesar, Philip saw and then he conquered.

      Seb’s jaw grew tight. He tensed as he watched Philip spin Neely round again, then start talking while Neely cocked her head and listened.

      Was this song never going to end?

      Then he heard Neely’s laughter. He turned his head to see her smiling up into his father’s eyes. He stopped dead.

      Vangie tripped over his feet. “Sorry,” she said. “My fault.”

      “No.” But he couldn’t do this anymore. “Let me take you back so you can sit down before I walk all over you.”

      He took her arm and steered her back to Garrett before the music even ended. She sat down and looked up at him to smile again. “Thanks, Seb. For everything.”

      “For stepping on your feet.” He smiled wryly as the music finally came to an end and Neely still stood with his father on the far side of the dance floor deep in conversation. Then she smiled, nodded and Philip leaned in and kissed her on the cheek.

      Vangie squeezed his hands, drawing his attention back to her. “No. Thanks for making my dreams come true.”

      “You’re welcome,” he said because it was the right thing to do.

      Some people’s dreams did come true, he supposed as he walked away.

      Frankly Seb found it hard to imagine.

      “It was the most beautiful wedding I’ve ever been to,” Neely said on their way home.

      “Uh-huh.”

      She slanted him a glance. His gaze was, of course, on the road. It was late—past eleven—and they were exhausted, but fortunately they were nearly home. She’d been carrying the conversation all the way. Sebastian’s contributions had, like the last one, been delivered in single syllables and a monotone.

      Of course he’d done so much to make it a great day for his sister that she didn’t expect him to talk a lot. But he’d been increasingly quiet, not just since they’d left the reception but since the dance his father had cut in on.

      Now, as he turned down the hill to the parking area by the dock, she said quietly, “It’s actually hard to hate him.”

      She didn’t say whom. She knew she didn’t have to.

      Sebastian’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel. “I wouldn’t know.” His tone was cold.

      At least, Neely thought, it wasn’t that light dismissive tone that made her crazy.

      “You don’t hate him,” she said with more confidence than she felt.

      “I don’t give a damn about him,” Sebastian said roughly. He turned into a parking space and cut the engine.

      “Not true.”

      His jaw worked. In the streetlight she could see his knuckles whiten as his fingers clenched.

      “He wanted to talk to you, not me,” Neely said quietly.

      He didn’t look at her, just stared straight ahead. “He could have talked to me four days ago.”

      “He really did get delayed in Japan.”

      Sebastian slapped his hands on the steering wheel. “Don’t make excuses for him!”

      “I’m not making excuses!”

      “No?” He turned to glare at her. “What do you call it?”

      “Sanity?” she suggested. “Common sense?”

      “To believe everything he tells you? To let yourself be conned?”

      “I’m not letting myself be conned! He said he wanted to apologize. You wouldn’t let him get close.” That was more or less what he had said. Plus he’d said he wanted to get to know the woman who seemed to have captured his oldest son’s heart.

      Of course she didn’t say that now.

      Sebastian was already snorting his disbelief at what she did say. He jerked open the car door and came around to open hers, but Neely got out by herself and stalked down the dock toward the houseboat.

      Sebastian caught up with her. “I don’t want him close,” he said flatly.

      “I think you made that perfectly clear. Look,” she said, rounding on him by their front door, “I’m not condoning your father’s behavior. I think it stinks, but—”

      “Did you tell him that? You didn’t, did you?” he demanded furiously. “Of course you didn’t! You’re just like all the rest!”

      He stuck his key in the lock and shoved the door open. Harm bounded up to meet them. Kittens tumbled sleepily down the stairs. Sebastian ignored them all, just held the door and simultaneously glowered accusingly at her.

      Disregarding her dress and everything but the pain in her heart and the tears that stung her eyes, Neely marched past him and knelt to wrap her arms around the dog. She hugged him hard, pressed her face into his short soft fur. Drew a breath. Drew strength.

      Then she stood again and turned to face Sebastian. “I did, you know,”

      He stared. “Did what?”

      “Told him it stunk, what he’d done. Told him he hurt you. Told him what a jerk he was.” She glared at him defiantly.

      Sebastian looked stunned. And then he shook his head in disbelief. “Sure you did. That’s why he was laughing. Why you were! Why he danced you around and kissed your cheek!”

      There was a short silence and then she said, “You don’t believe me.”

      He