A Tangled Affair. Fiona Brand

mother, Margaret Ambrosi.

      Sienna, wearing a sleek ivory dress and already looking distinctly bridal, was the first to greet her. The quick hug, the moment of warmth, despite the fact that they had spent most of the morning going over the details of the wedding together, made Carla’s throat lock.

      Sienna gripped her hands, frowning. “Are you okay? You look a little pale.”

      “I’m fine, just a little rushed and I didn’t expect the media ambush at the gates.” Carla forced a bright smile. “You know me. I do thrive on publicity, but the reporters were like a pack of wolves.”

      Constantine, tall and imposing, greeted her with a brief hug, the gesture conveying her new status as a soon-to-be member of Medinos’s most wealthy, powerful family. He frowned as he released her. “Security should have kept them at bay.”

      His expression was remote, his light gray gaze controlled, belying the primitive fact that he had used financial coercion and had even gone so far as kidnapping Sienna to get his former fiancée back.

      “The security was good.” Carla hugged her mother, fighting the ridiculous urge to cling like a child. If she did that she would cry, and she refused to cry in front of Lucas.

      A waiter offered champagne. As she lifted the flute from the tray her gaze clashed with Lucas’s. Her fingers tightened reflexively on the delicate stem. The message in his dark eyes was clear.

       Don’t talk. Don’t make trouble.

      She took a long swallow of the champagne. “Unfortunately, the line of questioning the press took was disconcerting. Although I’m sure that when Lucas arrived with Lilah any misconceptions were cleared up.”

      Sienna’s expression clouded. “Don’t tell me they’re trying to resurrect that old story about you and Lucas?”

      Carla controlled her wince reflex at the use of the word resurrect. “I guess it’s predictable that now that you and Constantine have your happy ending, the media are looking to generate something out of nothing.”

      Sienna lifted a brow. “So, do they need a medic down at the gates?”

      “Not this time.” Lucas frowned as Carla took another long swallow of champagne. “Don’t forget I was the original target two years ago, not the media.”

      And suddenly the past was alive between them, vibrating with hurtful accusations and misunderstandings she thought they had dealt with long ago. The first night of unplanned and irresistible passion they’d shared, followed by the revelation of the financial deal her father had leveraged on the basis of Sienna’s engagement to Constantine. Lucas’s accusation that Carla was more interested in publicity and her career than she had been in him.

      Carla forced herself to loosen her grip on the stem of her glass. “But then the media are so very fascinated by your private life, aren’t they?”

      A muscle pulsed along the side of his jaw. “Only when someone decides to feed them information.”

      The flat statement, correct as it was, stung. Two years ago, hurt by his comments, she had reacted by publicly stating that she had absolutely no interest in being pursued by Lucas. The story had sparked weeks of uncomfortable conjecture for them both.

      Sienna left them to greet more arrivals. Her anger under control, Carla examined the elegant proportions of the reception room, the exquisite marble floors and rich, Italianate decor. “And does that thought keep you awake at night?”

      Lucas’s gaze flared at her deliberate reference to the restless passion for her that he had once claimed kept him awake at nights. “I’m well used to dealing with the media.”

      “A shame there isn’t a story. It could have benefited Ambrosi’s upcoming product launch.” She forced a brilliant smile. “You know what they say, any publicity is good publicity. Although in this case, I’m sure the story wouldn’t be worth the effort, especially when it would involve dragging my private life through the mud.”

      Lucas’s expression shuttered, the fire abruptly gone. “Then I suggest you sleep easy. I don’t kiss and tell.”

      The sense of disorientation she had felt the past few minutes evaporated in a rush of anger. “Or commit to relationships.”

      “You were the one who set the ground rules.”

      Suddenly Lucas seemed a lot closer. “You know I had no other option.”

      His expression was grim. “The truth is always an option.”

      Her chin jerked up. “I was protecting Sienna and my family. What was I supposed to do? Turn up with you at Mom and Dad’s house for Sunday dinner and admit that I was—”

      “Sleeping with me?”

      The soft register of his voice made her heart pound. Every nerve in her body jangled at his closeness, the knowledge that he was just as aware of her as she was of him. “I was about to say dating an Atraeus.”

      Sienna returned from her hostess duties to step neatly between them. “Time out, children.”

      Lucas lifted a brow, his mouth quirking in the wry half smile that regularly made women go weak at the knees. “My apologies.”

      As Constantine joined them, Lucas drew Lilah into the circle. “I know I don’t need to introduce Lilah.”

      There was a moment of polite acknowledgment and brief handshakes as Lilah was accepted unconditionally into the Atraeus fold. The process of meeting Maria Therese was more formal and underlined a salient and well-publicized fact. Atraeus men didn’t take their women home to meet their families on a casual basis. To her best knowledge, until now, Lucas had never taken a girlfriend home to meet his mother.

      Lucas’s girlfriend.

      Lilah was smiling, her expression contained but lit with an unmistakable glow.

      A second salient fact made Carla stiffen. A few months ago, while stuck overnight together at a sales expo in Europe, she and Lilah had discussed the subject of relationships. At age twenty-nine, despite possessing the kind of sensual dark-haired, white-skinned beauty that riveted male attention, Lilah was determinedly single.

      She had told Carla a little of her background, which included a single mother, a solo grandmother and ongoing financial hardship. Born illegitimate, Lilah had early on given herself a rule. No sex before marriage. There was no way she was going to be left holding a baby.

      While Carla had stressed about finding Mr. Right, Lilah was calmly focused on marrying him, her approach methodical and systematic. She had moved on a step from Carla’s idea of a spreadsheet and had developed a list of qualifying attributes as precise and unwavering as an employment contract. Also, unlike Carla, Lilah had saved herself for marriage. She was that twenty-first century paragon: a virgin.

      The simple fact that she was on Medinos with Lucas, thousands of miles from her Sydney apartment and rigorous work schedule, spoke volumes.

      Lilah did not date. Carla knew that she occasionally accompanied a gay neighbor to his professional dinners and had him escort her to charity functions she supported. But their relationship was purely friendship, which suited them both. That was all.

      Carla took another gulp of champagne. Her stomach clenched because the situation was suddenly blindingly obvious.

      Lilah was dating Lucas because she had chosen him. He was her intended husband.

      Anger churned in Carla’s stomach and stiffened her spine. She and Lucas had conducted their relationship based on a set of rules that was the complete opposite of everything that Lilah was holding out for: no strings, strictly casual and, because of the family feud, in secrecy.

      An enticing, convenient arrangement for a man who clearly had never had any intention of offering her marriage.

      Waiters served more chilled champagne and trays of tiny, exquisite canapés.