Night Of Shame - Miranda Lee

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looks were similar to her brother’s, but where he could be described as tall and lean Margaret was skinny and shapeless. Raymond was able to carry off a long face and large nose with distinction. On his sister, they looked horsy. The down-turn of a sour mouth didn’t improve things, either.

      ‘How naughty of you to be late, Raymond, love,’ she said brushing her brother’s cheek with a kiss before flicking cold eyes over Judith. ‘My, that’s a daring little dress you’re wearing tonight, Judith.’

      ‘She has the figure to wear it,’ Raymond retorted, surprising Judith with his defence of her. In the past, Margaret’s snide remarks had seemed to go right over his head. She smiled her gratitude at him but he didn’t smile back, his eyebrows bunching together as he scowled down at her cleavage.

      Judith’s heart leapt when the front doorbell rang behind her, but it wasn’t Alexander who was ushered in. It was a couple she didn’t recognise. Frankly, she didn’t recognise any of the people who arrived over the next hour, other than Raymond’s secretary, who came on her own. A widow in her early forties, Joyce was a pleasant but rather plain woman who had worked for Raymond for eons and was devoted to him.

      Judith found herself introduced to distant relatives of Raymond’s she’d never met before, then half a dozen business associates and their wives, plus several sophisticated couples who were part of Margaret and Mario’s social set.

      They all gave Judith a thorough once-over, and once again Judith got the impression she was found wanting as a bride-to-be. Too young for Raymond, their eyes seemed to say. And far too flashy.

      But Judith was beyond caring what any of them thought. She stood by Raymond’s side near the marble fireplace, smiling plastic smiles and sipping champagne while her whole attention was riveted on the doorway which led back to the front hall. She was watching and waiting for Alexander to arrive, dreading it, yet desperate for it at the same time. There was nothing worse than waiting for something awful to happen. Far better to get it over and done with.

      But Alexander didn’t arrive. Nine o’clock came and went. The introductions dried up and the party settled into full swing. More champagne flowed. Finger food was served from circling trays. The tone of the background music changed to a dancing beat.

      The more sedate guests found chairs and sofas while the young at heart spilled from the main living room into the large family room beyond, where they could dance on the polished wooden floor. Raymond and Judith settled in a corner of the lounge room, along with Margaret and Joyce, while Mario was off dancing and flirting as usual.

      Judith wasn’t sure if she felt relieved or not by Alexander’s non-appearance. There was a tight pain in her chest from holding herself in anticipation of seeing him again which was not at all relaxing. When the sound of the doorbell came again—at least fifteen minutes after the last arrival—she suddenly felt faint. This was him. She just knew it.

      ‘Perhaps that’s our errant Mr Fairchild,’ Raymond whispered in her ear as Margaret rose and went to answer the door. ‘I sincerely hope so.’

      Judith felt Joyce’s eyes on her as she waited in stiff silence for Margaret’s return. Why was Raymond’s secretary staring at her like that? she wondered. Did she look as pale as she felt? And as petrified?

      Please, God, don’t let me still feel what I once felt for him, she prayed as she waited. I couldn’t bear it.

      She stared blankly down into her half-empty glass of champagne, flinching when Raymond abruptly got to his feet.

      ‘Alexander!’ he boomed in a hearty greeting. ‘You made it. I was beginning to think you weren’t coming.’

      ‘I had a business dinner I couldn’t get out of,’ came the deeply timbred reply. ‘I came as soon as I could get away.’

      A shudder ran through Judith at the sound of that voice. So utterly male. So impressively mature. It hadn’t changed one bit.

      Her eyes slowly lifted, following the length of his tall frame, which was casually yet elegantly encased in a beige woollen suit and a black crew-necked sweater. Shock rippled through her when her gaze reached his face, for there he had changed.

      Never a classically handsome man, the years had etched a brutal harshness on his already sharp features, and he looked every one of his thirty-two years. His once longish, wavy black hair was cut very short on top, the sides slicked ruthlessly back. His skin was weathered and deeply tanned. There were deep lines around his mouth, crow’s-feet around his eyes and a smattering of grey at his temples. He looked tough as teak, and every inch the ruthless bastard she’d always believed him to be.

      Hard black eyes suddenly met hers, and for a moment he stared at her in total astonishment.

      ‘Judith?’ he said, his voice a shocked rasp.

      Judith was speechless as she gazed up at him. Nothing had changed, she realised with a sinking heart and a rapidly escalating dread. Nothing...

      ‘You know Judith?’ Margaret said, her thin eyebrows arching in surprise.

      ‘Mr Fairchild’s an old friend of Judith’s,’ Raymond supplied into the decidedly thickening atmosphere. ‘They haven’t seen each other in years. No doubt you’re somewhat surprised to find you already know my fiancée, Alexander. I know Judith was a bit taken aback when I dropped your name this evening, weren’t you, darling?’

      ‘Indeed I was,’ came her amazingly calm reply. It showed Judith she was far more capable of handling the situation than she would ever have expected. Inside she was a mess, but it didn’t show on the outside, she realised with enormous relief.

      ‘How are you, Alex?’ she asked with cool composure, a light smile playing on her lips. ‘You’re looking fit and well. Raymond tells me you’ve gone into real estate.’

      ‘That’s right.’

      Judith gained some satisfaction from seeing that her adversary was far more rattled than she appeared to be. His nostrils had flared wide at the revelation that she was Raymond’s fiancée. Now he was frowning as though he could hardly credit his misfortune in meeting up with her again.

      ‘How did you and Judith come to be friends?’ Margaret insisted on knowing. ‘Goodness, I hope you’re not some long-lost love come to claim Raymond’s fiancée at the last moment,’ she added, with a dry little laugh.

      Judith felt sick at this ironic remark. Love had never come into it. Not even on her side. She could see that now. Her feelings for Alexander were exactly the same as they’d been seven years ago. It was lust, not love. One look, and her body still snapped to attention, craving the chemistry only he could evoke. Yet she loathed the man. How perverse could one get?

      ‘Hardly,’ Alexander drawled. ‘Judith was once engaged to my best friend.’

      ‘Really?’ Margaret was all ears. ‘I had no idea you were engaged before, Judith. Did you know she was engaged before, Raymond?’

      ‘Yes, of course I did,’ he snapped. For once, he was looking at his sister with irritation. ‘Judith doesn’t like to talk about it. Her fiancé was tragically killed in a road accident a couple of days before the wedding.’

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