His Independent Bride: Wife Against Her Will / The Wedlocked Wife / Bertoluzzi's Heiress Bride. Catherine Spencer

his waistcoat as he studied her dispassionately. ‘So, what have you got to say to me?’

      She’d rehearsed all afternoon, but, somehow, it didn’t make centre stage any easier. And his own attitude didn’t help, she thought resentfully.

      She took an armchair, adjacent but at a safe distance, perching on the edge of it. ‘There are a number of practical details we need to discuss.’

      ‘Such as?’

      ‘Well, the invitations have come from the printers, but I don’t know yet what names you want on the guest list.’ She paused. ‘Your parents, for instance. You’ve never mentioned them.’

      ‘You’ve never asked.’ His mouth twisted. ‘But you need not trouble yourself. They’ve both been dead for several years.’

      ‘Oh,’ Darcy said, after a pause. ‘Well—I’m sorry.’

      ‘Why?’ he asked. ‘After all, you never knew them. However, it’s a kind thought. Perhaps I should treasure it for its rarity.’

      He smiled at her lightly. ‘And my aunt and uncle won’t be attending either. Since Uncle Peter retired they’ve been going on adventure holidays, and this time it’s a tour of the Australian outback. And I hardly think we want to invite Emma and Harry,’ he added cynically. ‘As for the other guests—I’ll get my secretary to send you a memo. Anything else?’

      She hesitated. ‘Well, I’ve asked my closest friend, Lois, to be my attendant, and her husband, Mick, one of the ushers. I—I don’t know who your best man is going to be, but I thought maybe we should all—meet.’ She paused, then added, ‘At some point.’

      His brows lifted. ‘You thought?’ he queried sardonically.

      ‘No,’ she said stonily. ‘Not precisely. As a matter of fact, it was Lois’s idea. She and her husband are beginning to find it strange that they’ve never even been introduced to you.’ She swallowed. ‘And your best man might feel the same. About me.’

      Joel tapped a thoughtful forefinger against his teeth. ‘Then, why not?’ he said slowly. ‘One of my old school mates, Greg Latimer, is acting for me. He’s married to a girl called Maisie. I’ll see how their diary stands, and come up with a few dates. Maybe you’ll do the same with your friends.’

      ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘OK. Fine. I don’t think there’s anything else. Not at this juncture anyway.’

      He looked at her with faint mockery. ‘You realise you may be letting yourself in for a tricky night?’

      ‘A meal in a restaurant is pretty harmless.’

      ‘But we’ll be on show, sweetheart,’ he said softly. ‘Lovers supposedly in love, confronted by two other couples who’ve been there, and done that already. Who can remember the exhilaration of that headlong dash to the altar. The joy of being able to say “ my husband” and “my wife”.’

      There was an odd note in his voice that made her heart lurch in sudden confusion. Something which scared her.

      ‘Goodness,’ she said in a voice that was sharper than she intended. ‘Such unwonted eloquence.’

      He sighed. ‘Darcy, this will be our first public appearance together as a couple, and the way things are they’re going to see straight through us. That is not what I want. And certainly not what we agreed,’ he added with a touch of grimness that wasn’t lost on her.

      She bit her lip. ‘As they’re all such old friends, why don’t we simply come clean and tell them the truth about the marriage?’ She thought guiltily, As I’ve already done with Lois…

      ‘And why not take out full-page ads in all the tabloids too?’ he asked coldly. He shook his head. ‘No, darling, we play this according to our unwritten rules. In private, I forgo the delight of sleeping in your bed, and in public, you behave as if we were passionately in love.

      ‘And that doesn’t involve sitting several feet away from me, looking like a rabbit caught in the headlights,’ he added drily.

      There was an odd tingling silence. Darcy felt a shiver run from the nape of her neck to the base of her spine as his gaze met hers. Held it.

      Oh, God, she thought. It was happening at last. The moment of truth had arrived, and she wasn’t sure how to deal with it. With him…

      Joel patted the sofa beside him. ‘Come here.’ The invitation was spoken softly, but it brooked no refusal.

      Slowly, mutinously, Darcy obeyed, occupying a space as far from him as the width of the sofa allowed.

      ‘No,’ he said. ‘Closer than that, my sweet.’ His smile seemed to graze her skin. ‘Within kissing distance, please.’

      Her whole body went rigid, then she turned on him furiously. ‘You must be joking.’ She almost spat the words. ‘Don’t even think about it.’

      ‘Why not? It’s going to happen sooner or later,’ he said, his tone unforgivably casual. ‘And when it does, I’d prefer you to accept the fact and not leap away from me like a frog on speed.’

      ‘What a charming image.’ She glared at him. ‘There’s not much anyone could teach you about romance.’

      ‘And I,’ he said, ‘thought that romance was the last thing you wanted—particularly from me.’ He allowed her a moment to digest that, then continued, ‘On the other hand, we should be able to produce the occasional show of spurious affection. Enough to convince the world at large that we’re in love, and even fool our friends and family, just as long as they don’t peer too closely. Agreed?’

      Her gaze faltered. Fell away to the cold glitter of his diamond on her hand, reminding her once more of its significance. Of exactly what she’d committed herself to.

      She said thickly, ‘I don’t seem to have much of a choice.’

      There was a silence, then he said, his voice quivering with amusement, ‘Tell me something, darling. Were you put on this earth for the sole purpose of crushing my self-esteem? Because you’re doing a fabulous job.’

      She said curtly, ‘I doubt there’ll be any lasting damage. Even so, it will hardly keep me awake at nights.’

      ‘Which leaves me wondering what might,’ he said softly. ‘In the meantime…’ He moved slightly, invitingly, stretching an arm along the cushions, and summoning her to move within its curve.

      Reluctantly, Darcy complied.

      There was another pause, then Joel said quite gently, ‘Sweetheart, you’re trembling. What on earth do you imagine I’m going to do to you?’ His long fingers captured her chin. Turned her to face him. ‘This is no big deal. Relax. You’ve been kissed before.’

      Yes, she thought, the sweep of her lashes veiling her eyes as the breath caught in her throat. But not that often. And never since that night when Harry…

      She realised that she was near enough to Joel now to feel the warmth of his lean body. To breathe the clean male scent of his skin commingled with the faint musk of the cologne he used.

      These were the things that had emblazoned themselves on her senses two years ago when he’d first put his hands on her, she thought angrily, and, to her lasting shame, had reawoken her awareness as soon as they’d met again.

      Part of the memories that she could not escape.

      But at least now she did not have to look at him. Or see him looking at her.

      As her eyes closed she felt Joel’s lips touch her hair, her temples, and move down to her cheek, light as the tracery on a butterfly’s wing, while his fingers stroked the delicate line of her jaw and throat.

      Then, with equal gentleness, he kissed the corners of her inimically compressed mouth, and she felt the sharp, painful thud of her pulses as she found herself waiting…

      But