‘Isn’t it a little early for that, Logan?’ his mother frowned at him.
‘A moment ago you were going to toast my engagement,’ he reminded her grimly.
‘But that was with champagne!’
‘And now I prefer whisky,’ he refilled the glass once again, seeming to feel nothing as he drank the fiery liquid straight down. ‘I thought you said you were going, Miss Day,’ he said rudely.
Callie flushed. ‘I am. I just wanted to thank your mother—’
‘Take it as said,’ he rasped.
‘Logan!’ his mother gasped. ‘I’ve never seen you behave like this before—’
‘I’d never met Caroline before,’ he scorned. ‘You have to hand it to her, Mother, she’s beautiful enough to drive a man to drink—or suicide.’ His eyes darkened. ‘I suppose Uncle Jeffrey’s death was an accident? You hadn’t found yourself a younger man, had you, Caroline?’
A red tide of anger passed over her eyes, and when it cleared four shocked faces and Logan’s furious one, the red marks where her fingers had made contact with his face showing up clearly against his otherwise pale skin.
‘You’ll regret you ever did that,’ he told her through gritted teeth.
‘I don’t think so,’ she said coldly, her hand stinging from the force of the slap. ‘Ready, Donald?’
‘Er—yes.’ He eyed his cousin warily.
Logan’s expression was contemptuous. ‘She’ll eat you for breakfast,’ he sneered.
‘Well, at least he might be asked to stay for breakfast!’ Callie had the satisfaction of seeing Logan pale even more, a pulse working erratically at his jaw. ‘I’ll be seeing you again soon, Logan.’
‘You certainly will,’ he acknowledged tautly.
She was shaking by the time Donald helped her into the passenger seat of the Jaguar, adjusting the seat-belt for her before moving round to get in behind the wheel.
She stared straight ahead for most of the journey, too sickened by what had happened to want to talk to anyone, least of all the insipid Donald. For once he seemed to know how she felt, and wisely remained silent—although it couldn’t last for long.
‘I do think it was very bad of Logan,’ he said when he finally couldn’t contain himself any longer.
She looked at him with dull eyes, no joyous gold flecks in their depths. ‘What was?’
‘Well, tricking you in that way—’
‘Wasn’t it what you intended yourself?’
Donald flushed. ‘Certainly not!’
She sighed. ‘Too much has been said to lie now. You even admitted it earlier.’
‘Well—yes.’
‘Thank you. And in future I would prefer equal honesty.’ She rubbed her temples wearily. ‘There doesn’t seem to have been much of that lately.’
‘I say, Caroline,’ he turned to frown at her, ‘has Logan really hurt you?’
‘No, of course not.’ She straightened her shoulders. ‘It was just a game—a game we both lost.’
‘You don’t have to lose,’ he pointed out tentatively. ‘There’s still me.’
‘Is there?’ she said dully.
‘Oh yes,’ he nodded his eagerness.