‘Er—’ he frowned. ‘Yes.’
‘Marry the woman you love and forget everyone else.’
He sighed. ‘It isn’t that easy.’
‘Believe me,’ she squeezed his arm, ‘it is.’
‘Good evening, Donald—Caroline.’ Logan’s voice cooled over the last. ‘I had a feeling you would be here.’
It took all her willpower to turn and look at him, her barriers momentarily down. He looked superb in a dark dinner suit, the snowy white shirt emphasising his tan, his eyes a cold metallic grey.
Callie drew a steadying breath, and answered with all the confidence she could. ‘In that case I’m surprised you came.’
For a moment he didn’t answer her, his gaze insolently stripping the rust-coloured dress from her body, lingering on the creamy expanse of skin left exposed by the single-shoulder fastening. And that was how he made her feel—exposed.
‘This is a family party, Miss Day,’ he told her abruptly. ‘And I don’t think you merit being called that—yet.’ He waited for the barb to hit home before turning to the woman at his side. ‘You both know Audrey, of course.’
Audrey Harris! Callie hardly recognised Logan’s secretary in the body-hugging gold dress, her long black hair secured over one shoulder, her make-up vividly striking.
Donald frowned at the other woman. ‘No, I—’
‘It’s Logan’s secretary, darling,’ Callie drawled, allowing the hand she had resting on his arm to move possessively against the fabric of his jacket, feeling a thrill of elation as Logan’s eyes narrowed over the gesture. ‘How nice to see you again, Miss Harris,’ she said with false sweetness.
Violet-blue eyes narrowed speculatively. ‘Miss Day,’ Audrey drawled. ‘Do let’s go and meet someone interesting, Logan,’ she added pointedly. ‘You told me I’d have a good time, and so far it’s been deadly dull.’ Those violet-blue eyes returned challengingly to Callie.
Callie couldn’t pretend she wasn’t surprised to see Logan here with his secretary, especially after the derogatory remarks he had made about her, and yet in a way this encounter was amusing.
‘I have a feeling I’ve played this scene before,’ she mumbled.
‘Not quite,’ Logan mocked.
No, of course not. This time she was the discarded girl-friend. Well, she couldn’t say she hadn’t been warned!
‘Could we go for a walk in the conservatory?’ she asked Donald. ‘The air is a little—stale, in here.’
Logan’s mouth tightened at the jibe, his eyes snapping with anger. ‘Come on, Audrey, let’s find some of those interesting people I promised would be here.’ They walked away, a very attractive couple, both tall, attracting much attention.
‘The conservatory, Donald,’ Callie reminded him jerkily as he still seemed awed by his impressive cousin.
‘Oh, of course,’ he agreed absently, walking towards the back of the house where his mother nurtured her beloved roses. ‘I don’t know how Logan dare bring his secretary here,’ he frowned. ‘Mother will be furious when she finds out who she is. She can’t stand the models he usually brings, let alone… Well, she isn’t going to like it.’
Callie doubted whether it would bother Logan in the least what his aunt’s opinion was on his bringing Audrey here, and she personally was weary of the bitchiness, the snobbery. She wished she had never agreed to come here, wished—
‘Your mother wants you, Donald.’
She turned with a start at the sound of Logan’s voice, her eyes widening as she saw he was alone. He was watching her with brooding eyes, making it impossible to tell what he was thinking.
‘Mother does?’ Donald frowned.
‘Yes.’ Logan looked coldly at his cousin. ‘I should run along if I were you.’
‘She wants me now?’
‘Five minutes ago, I would say,’ Logan taunted.
‘Oh dear,’ Donald looked hounded. ‘Caroline—’
‘I’ll be fine, Donald,’ she assured him.