It was the only conclusion Casey had come to during the last twenty hours of her thoughts going round and round in circles and always coming back to that one point: maybe Brad Henderson could be made to see how unreasonably he was behaving, that it was grief at his daughter’s death that was governing his actions rather than a real belief on his part that Lauren would be better off with him? If the older man could be made to see that then Xander would have no need to think about marrying anyone—least of all Casey.
How was that for shooting herself in the foot?
‘Are you serious, Casey?’ Xander exclaimed. ‘The mood Brad was in the last time we spoke, he would eat you for dinner!’
‘Dinner was exactly what I had in mind,’ she replied, trying not to feel too concerned. ‘In fact, I’ve already asked for tomorrow evening off work in anticipation of the arrangement. Do you think, if you asked him, he would agree to come? Not here, of course,’ she added hastily.
‘You’re lacking a dining room table, for one thing,’ Xander snarled. ‘Sorry,’ he muttered at her reproving silence, then, ‘I can ask him,’ he conceded. ‘But you had better be prepared for the worst if he agrees,’ he warned.
‘I think I can cope,’ Casey assured him dryly; after dealing with the shock of this man’s proposal last night, she was sure she could cope with anything Brad Henderson had to throw at her. ‘I think it’s the right thing to do—er—Xander.’
‘There—that wasn’t so hard, now, was it?’ he taunted, before adding with a sigh, ‘You’re pretty insistent on doing what you think is right, aren’t you, Casey?’
‘I would hate for you to find yourself married to me and then discover you needn’t have bothered, after all!’ she came back tartly.
He laughed appreciatively, with a husky softness that seemed to move teasingly across Casey’s sensitised skin and sent a shiver of awareness down the length of her spine.
‘You may not find it so funny if that were to be the case!’ she snapped, uncomfortable with the fact that she could be so aware of him just talking to him on the telephone.
This woman was something else, Xander acknowledged wryly. Not only was she hesitating about accepting a marriage proposal from a man who was rich enough to ensure that she never needed to worry about money ever again, but she was also concerned that he should never have cause to regret the marriage!
Incredible.
‘I think I would cope, Casey.’ He mockingly echoed her earlier assurance to him. ‘I’ll give Brad a call, and then give you a ring back—okay?’ he added briskly, abruptly ending the call. He was not sure what to make of her at all.
It was fine for him to actually like the woman he was intending to marry—it would be hell for all of them if he didn’t—and it was okay that he found Casey’s delicate beauty desirable, too; after all, she might want to change the terms of their marriage some time in the future. But he certainly didn’t need to feel anything else for her!
Not even the grudging admiration he now felt after that surprising telephone conversation…
‘He hasn’t arrived yet, so you can stop looking so apprehensive,’ Xander told her the following evening, after the butler had shown Casey into the sitting room.
How could she help but feel anxious when she wasn’t even comfortable in Xander’s company, let alone in that of his angry ex-father-in-law—who was arriving at any moment?
‘You look—wonderful,’ Xander said with slow appreciation.
Casey quirked her brows mischievously. ‘I don’t always look as if I’ve been dragged through a kitchen backwards!’
‘I didn’t mean—You’re teasing me,’ he realised in surprise.
She nodded. ‘I thought we had already agreed that I have a sense of humour?’ And she was probably going to need it, too!
But at least she knew she did look okay. She had spent a leisurely hour or so in the bathroom before getting ready to come out: blow-drying her hair into silky wisps, keeping her make-up light—a touch of lipstick and blusher, a little mascara emphasising the length of her lashes. The black knee-length sheath of a dress she wore was several years old, but of good quality nonetheless, and the fact that she knew it suited her slender curves gave an added boost to her confidence.
Hannah—suitably chastened after her behaviour the other evening—had readily agreed to babysit while Casey went out for the evening, and had arrived promptly at seven o’clock, assuring Casey that she had no need to hurry back, that she was quite happy to stay for as long as she wanted to be out.
The daughter of a neighbour three doors down, Hannah was probably bursting with curiosity about this unusual evening out for Casey. But it was a curiosity Casey hadn’t felt in the least inclined to satisfy. Time enough, if Casey’s marriage to Xander Fraser did go ahead after all, for her neighbours’ speculation.
Xander had completely misread her emotion when she’d been shown into the sitting room of his beautiful home—she wasn’t feeling apprehensive at all, but slightly in awe of the Fraser home. Electric gates had opened slowly at the end of a long driveway after she had given her name over the intercom, and long rolling lawns had edged that driveway as she drove the half-mile or so to the main house. It was a magnificent house of mellow stone, floodlit from the outside, with lights inside gleaming a welcome from crystal chandeliers.
A magnificent house that she might become mistress of…
It also didn’t help that, having been shown into this gold and cream sitting room, with its genuine Regency furnishings and a fire burning in the huge Adam fireplace, she felt slightly overwhelmed by how wonderful Xander looked in his black evening suit, with a black bow tie knotted meticulously at the throat of his white silk shirt.
He crossed the room in easy strides to stand just in front of her, his gaze intent as he looked down at her. ‘You really do look very beautiful this evening,’ he told her huskily.
As a widow with a young son, she was surely too old to blush, Casey told herself, even as she felt the warmth enter her cheeks as Xander repeated his compliment.
‘I like the fact that you do this,’ Xander murmured, even as his hand moved and his fingers brushed lightly against that blush in her cheeks.
Casey stared up at him, her gaze caught and held by his, her lips slightly parted and her breathing becoming shallow.
The squareness of his jaw looked freshly shaved, his aftershave was alluringly musky, and those sculptured lips curved slightly into a smile as he looked down at her with those dark blue eyes. Eyes that seemed fathomless as Casey suddenly felt herself unable to look away…
‘Mr Henderson, sir,’ the butler announced haughtily, before what Casey could only describe as a whirlwind swept into the room.
‘Xander!’ a harsh American voice rasped. ‘Who the hell is this?’ Brad Henderson demanded as he saw Casey standing at Xander’s side. ‘You didn’t tell me we would have company this evening!’ he barked at the younger man accusingly.
‘That will be all, Hilton.’ Xander calmly dismissed the manservant even as he snaked his hand out to firmly clasp Casey’s arm before she would have stepped away from him.
Casey was too stunned at the older man’s verbal attack to do anything other than remain in Xander’s grasp as she continued to stare across the room at the aggressive American. Whatever she had been expecting—an elderly man bowed down by grief at his daughter’s death, perhaps?—it certainly wasn’t this tall, loose-limbed, energetically vital man in black evening clothes, his still attractive features defying his sixty-something years.
It was obvious, looking at Brad Henderson, where Chloe had got her looks from. His dark hair was showing signs of grey at the temples, but his blue eyes had the same narrowed shrewdness his daughter’s had had.
Even on such brief acquaintance Casey knew Xander was right to fear this man’s determination to claim his granddaughter!
It was what she had wanted to know, after all—just not quite so forcefully. Or quite so soon…
Well, she couldn’t say Xander hadn’t tried to warn her!
‘Good evening, Mr Henderson,’ she greeted him smoothly, stepping forward to hold her hand out politely.
A hand the older man completely ignored as the hardness of his gaze remained fixed on Xander. ‘Who is she, Xander?’ he demanded scathingly. ‘Some woman you’ve brought in for the evening in the hope of distracting my attention from the real reason I’m here? The only reason I’m here,’ he added harshly.
Casey’s breath caught in her throat at the double insult this man had just thrown out so casually. To imply that Xander would stoop to such behaviour was bad enough, but the slight he’d directed at her was incredibly insulting, considering they hadn’t even been introduced to each other.
‘I can assure you, Mr Henderson, that—’
‘I wasn’t talking to you, honey. Well, Xander? Are you going to say anything, or just stand there like a dummy all evening?’ he challenged.
Xander could clearly feel Casey’s tension as he maintained his grasp on her arm. A perfectly understandable tension, considering Brad was excelling himself with his rudeness this evening.