‘Is it true?’ he asked. ‘Have you married Remy Caffarelli?’
It was probably perverse of her, but she felt a strange sense of satisfaction at having done something so shocking and outrageously disappointing to her father. He looked like he was having a conniption. ‘News certainly travels fast in this city,’ she said lightly. ‘How did you find out?’
He gave her a poisonous glare. ‘Do you have any idea of the utter fool you’ve made of me? I was at my club when one of my colleagues informed me. He read a tweet about it. There was a photo of you in a wedding outfit that looked like something out of The Arabian Nights. How could you do this to me? You couldn’t have thought of a worse punishment, you silly little cow. Have you no brain in that stupid, big, fat ugly head of yours?’
‘Apologise to my wife or I’ll flatten you.’
Angelique spun around to see Remy standing there. He had a grim look on his face and his fists were clenching as if he was already rehearsing his first punch. ‘Don’t.’ She put her hand on his arm. ‘It’s not worth it.’
He gently but firmly unpeeled her fingers from his wrist and faced her father. He spoke in French and it wasn’t pretty. Angelique watched as her father’s face went from puce to bright crimson and then back to puce. Even the tips of his ears were bright red, as if he was going to explode on the spot.
‘She is my daughter,’ Henri said through tight lips. ‘I’ll speak to her any way I like.’
Remy suddenly seemed so incredibly tall as he stared down her father. ‘She is my wife and no one gets to speak to her like that.’ His tone was commanding, authoritative. Intractable. ‘Apologise now or suffer the consequences.’
Her father huffed and puffed but finally he muttered what one could only very loosely describe as an apology before he sloped off back into his cab like a chastened dog being sent to its kennel.
Remy put a protective arm around Angelique’s waist. ‘Does he normally speak to you like that?’
She pressed her lips together as she watched the lights of the cab fade into the distance. She felt a sudden desire to cry and had to blink a few times to get control. No one had ever come to her defence before. Her mother had been too weak; the household staff too scared of losing their jobs.
‘Ma petite?’
Angelique looked up at him. Had he ever looked more handsome, more dashing and gorgeous than right now? How could she ever have thought she hated him? She quickly shielded her gaze. ‘We don’t have the best relationship. His short fuse and my smart mouth aren’t a good combination for familial harmony.’
He brushed her cheek with a light-as-air glide of his finger. ‘Has he ever laid a hand on you?’
‘No. But he uses words just as lethally. He did it to my mother. I’m sure it caused her breakdown. She just couldn’t take it any more.’
His expression flashed with disgust. ‘Why didn’t you say something earlier? I would have sorted him out years ago.’
Angelique gave a weary sigh. ‘I wanted to plenty of times but who would’ve believed me? It would blot his copybook too much to be seen as anything but a devoted father. The fact that he bawled me out like that in such a public place is a testament to how much he hates you. He would normally never speak to me like that if there was an audience.’
Remy took her hands and gave them a light squeeze. ‘Promise me something.’
‘What?’
‘Don’t ever be alone with him. Ever. Do you understand? N
ever.’
Right at this very moment, Angelique would have promised him anything. ‘I promise.’
‘Good girl.’ He brought her hands up to his mouth and kissed both of them in turn, his eyes still holding hers. ‘So, tell me about this new contract. You didn’t get round to telling what it was about.’
She gave her eyes a little roll. ‘You’re not going to believe what they want me to do.’
His brows snapped together. ‘Not a naked shoot?’
Angelique laughed at his fierce expression. ‘No, nothing like that. I’m to be the new poster girl for designer bridal wear.’
‘Bridal wear?’
‘Yes. How ironic is that? I never even wanted to be a bride and now I’m going to be wearing frothy wedding dresses and voluminous veils every day of the week, and earning millions for the privilege.’
His dark gaze searched hers for a moment. ‘And you’re pleased?’
Angelique pasted on her brightest smile. ‘But of course. For one thing, I won’t have to diet so stringently. Just think of the multitude of sins I can hide under a hoop skirt.’