LITMIR.BIZ

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silence. Wasn’t she the one who was supposed to be on edge and tense? Her ex-fiancé was, after all, within a hair’s breadth of marrying another woman. To add insult to injury, she was bound to bump into people who’d taken his side after the split and whom she hadn’t seen or spoken to since. Yes, she was the one who should be trembling in trepidation. But, bizarrely, she felt fine. Amazingly calm and collected and ready to face whatever the afternoon held in store for her.

      Luke, however, who should be relaxed and looking forward to spending the afternoon drinking champagne at someone else’s expense, was radiating unease and sitting unnaturally still. He was staring into the distance, probably totally unaware of the quaint towns and swathes of fields zipping past.

      What on earth was the matter with him? Yesterday, for the most part, he’d been charming. Today he was decidedly unsociable and it was unsettling her. To hell with the eggshells. This silence was driving her nuts and the thought of another minute of it was unbearable.

      Emily swivelled round and studied his profile. ‘How were your meetings?’

      Luke barely blinked before replying. ‘Productive.’

      Hmm, not a promising start. She tried a different topic. ‘Where do you stay when you’re here?’

      ‘I have offices in Monaco.’

      ‘Handy. But that’s not what I asked.’

      ‘One of the rooms has been converted into a bedroom. It has an en-suite bathroom and a dressing room.’

      ‘You sleep in your office?’ Emily couldn’t keep the incredulity out of her voice.

      ‘It makes for an easy commute,’ said Luke, twisting round and shooting her a humourless smile.

      ‘You have a chauffeur. Commuting should be a cinch.’

      ‘He’s on loan for this evening. I have a feeling I’m going to need a drink.’ His face hardened and his jaw set as if in preparation for something unpleasant.

      She could sympathise. ‘I know what you mean.’

      ‘I doubt it,’ he said harshly.

      Emily frowned. ‘Don’t you like weddings?’

      ‘Not particularly.’

      ‘Not even the church part?’

      ‘Especially not the church part,’ he said, with a vehemence that made Emily flinch.

      ‘Why not?’

      ‘I just don’t.’

      Which was one way of saying mind your own business, she supposed. ‘When was the last time you were in a church?’

      ‘Three years ago.’

      ‘That’s a long time.’

      ‘Too long.’ His voice was bleak, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to know any more. Invisible barriers were springing up all around him, warning her to back off, not to pry any further.

      So she sat back and contemplated what might cause such a strong dislike of churches and weddings. According to one of her girlfriends, the mere mention of either had a tendency to cause most men to break into a sweat. It certainly had with Tom, even after he’d proposed. Although he’d managed to get over that particular fear with unflattering speed.

      Perhaps Luke Harrison was a commitment phobe. That might explain why he was still single when he was handsome, wealthy and intelligent.

      ‘How on earth did you slip through the net?’ she murmured, and then gasped in horror when she realised she’d said the words aloud.

      ‘What net?’

      There was no way she could pretend she didn’t understand what he was talking about. Not when his eyes had narrowed and were trained on her face.

      Emily gulped nervously. ‘The marriage net. I’d have thought someone would have snapped you up years ago.’ Why, oh, why hadn’t she kept quiet? Eggshells were beginning to shatter all over the place.

      A muscle started ticking in his jaw. ‘Marriage isn’t for me,’ he bit out.

      Something about his stillness, the flash of desolation in his eyes, made Emily yearn to find out why he was so against marriage. But she’d already gone way too far.

      Desperately seeking to lighten the atmosphere, she gave him what she hoped was a conspiratorial smile. ‘I agree. Commitment, responsibility, a relationship...’ She shuddered. ‘I can’t think of anything worse.’

      After several minutes of more thundering silence Luke rubbed a hand over his face, and when he looked at her again something seemed to have shifted inside him. The tension ebbed from his frame and his eyes cleared. ‘Talking of commitment, you’d better fill me in on this wedding we’re going to.’

      Emily swallowed and looked out of the window. ‘I know the groom. Tom’s a—er...a friend of mine.’ Quite why she was reluctant to reveal the nature of their relationship to Luke was a mystery. He’d find out soon enough. With any luck after she’d had a glass or two of champagne.

      ‘Why didn’t you want to go?’

      ‘Oh, well, I—er—haven’t seen him for a while. There didn’t seem much point.’

      ‘Why was Anna so keen for you to come?’

      Emily stifled a sigh of exasperation. Couldn’t he just let it go? ‘She thinks I need to get out more,’ she said firmly. And that was as much as she was willing to say on the matter.

      Luke acknowledged her determination to change the subject with a tiny nod. ‘Who’s he marrying?’

      ‘A woman called Marianne du Champs,’ she replied, adding ‘perceptive’ to the long list of his attributes. ‘I believe she may be a countess.’

      She leaned towards the window as Pierre pulled the car up opposite a huge looming church. Everywhere she looked guests were milling around, the women dressed up to the nines in the latest designer outfits, the men elegant in traditional wedding attire.

      ‘Ah, look,’ said Emily, ‘a nice, small, intimate wedding.’

      She spied two of Tom’s friends, who up until a year ago had been her friends too. A tremor shook through her and her confidence wobbled. She brushed her palms against her dress and fought back a sudden attack of nerves. Perhaps this was going to be more gruelling than she’d imagined.

      Luke climbed out of the car, walked round the bonnet and opened the door for her. Emily swung her knees round, put her hand in his, and in one fluid movement she was on her feet.

      ‘That was beautifully done,’ he said, offering her his arm.

      ‘Thank you,’ she replied, taking it. ‘If you’re trying to boost my confidence, you’re doing a good job.’

      ‘Does your confidence need boosting?’

      ‘Ask me in an hour.’

      Some people would gossip about her presence at the wedding of her ex-fiancé, and the grapevine would no doubt tremble violently. But she’d just stepped out of a chauffeur-driven car and was now on the arm of the sexiest, best-looking man on the face of the earth. As they crossed the road, Emily took a deep breath and rallied her strength.

      ‘Are you all right?’ asked Luke.

      ‘Absolutely fine,’ she said firmly. ‘You?’

      ‘Absolutely fine.’ But he wasn’t. The tension was back and he was staring up at the church, his eyes icy blue and his face frozen.

      ‘If it helps,’ she murmured, ‘there should be plenty of extraordinary headwear and stained glass to focus on.’

      A glimmer of a smile hovered over his mouth for a second before his lips tightened. ‘Do you want to wait out here or shall we go in?’

      Emily

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