His eyes dropped to her hand, nervously tracing the grain of the table, and the smile was congealed.
‘Yes, that’s right, you do, don’t you. Even to the extent of bank-rolling your fiancé’s grand property schemes. I suppose you could say he gained a sleeping partner in more than one sense of the word…’
As she gasped in outrage, he lunged forward and trapped her left hand flat on the table-top, his palm pressing the winking diamond ring painfully into her finger.
‘You’ve been working for him since you left school, haven’t you? What took him so long to realise you were the woman of his dreams? It was around about the time you got that little windfall, wasn’t it? Did he make it a condition of his proposal that you invest your inheritance in his business, or did you do it all for love?’
‘How dare you imply it had anything to do with money?’ she said fiercely, fighting the sudden urge to burst into pathetic tears and throw herself on his mercy. ‘Peter asked me to marry him before he ever knew about the trust!’ The release, on her twenty-third birthday, of funds from a trust set up by her natural parents had been a surprise to everyone, including her adoptive parents, who had refused to accept a cent of it. It was for Vivian to use how she wished, they had said—so she had.
‘The wedding’s this Saturday isn’t it? Your twenty-fifth birthday?’
Her eyes lowered, her hand curling into a white-knuckled fist as she pulled i
t violently from under his and thrust it down into her lap. His investigations must have been appallingly extensive. How much more did he know? Please God, not enough!
‘Yes.’
Her curt response didn’t stop his probing as he leaned back again in his chair. ‘You must be looking forward to it after such a very long engagement? And only four days to until death do you part. No wonder you look slightly…emotionally ragged. It’s going to be a big church wedding, I understand. I’m amazed you could spare the time to dash down here…or was this a welcome distraction from the bridal jitters?’
Vivian lifted her chin and gave him a look of blazing dislike. At the same time she lifted her champagne glass and took a defiant sip.
He watched her with a thin smile, and suddenly she had had enough of his subtle tormenting. Any moment now she was going to lose her temper and give the game away. Thinking, In for a penny, in for a pound, she closed her eyes and recklessly quaffed the whole lot. It really was glorious, like drinking sunshine, she decided, drenched in a fizzy warmth that seemed to invade every body-cell.
She was still feeling dazzled inside when she reopened her eyes and found him regarding her with serious consternation.
‘You shouldn’t knock Dom Perignon back like water!’
Well, she had certainly succeeded in changing the subject! She gave him a smile that was almost as blinding as her hair. ‘I thought that was the way you were supposed to drink champagne. It gives such a delicious rush! I think I’ll have some more.’ She held out her glass.
His jaw tightened. ‘One glass is more than sufficient for someone who claims not to drink very much.’
‘But I like it. I want another one,’ she insisted imperiously. ‘A few minutes ago you were trying to ply me with wine, and now you’re sitting there like an outraged vicar. More champagne, garçon!’ she carolled, waving the glass above her head, suddenly feeling marvellously irresponsible. She might as well get thoroughly drunk before she met her fate.
‘Vivian, put the glass down before you break it!’ he ordered sharply.
‘Only if you promise to fill it,’ she bargained, crinkling her eyes with delight at her own cunning.
He looked at her silently for a moment, during which her body began to take on a slow lean in the chair. ‘All right.’
She chuckled at him. ‘You promise?’
‘I promise.’
‘Cross your heart and hope to die?’
‘Vivian—’
‘Stick a needle in your eye—!’ She broke off the childish chant, putting her free hand to her open mouth, her face blanching under the freckles. ‘Oh, God, Nicholas, I’m sorry.’
‘The glass, Vivian—’
She was too shocked at her thoughtlessness to register anything but her own remorse. ‘Oh, Nicholas, I didn’t mean it, I was just being silly. You mustn’t think I meant—’
‘I know what you didn’t mean, Vivian,’ he ground out, as she regarded him owlishly from behind her spectacles.
‘I would never tease you about your eye,’ she whispered wretchedly.
‘I know,’ he said grimly, lunging to his feet and reaching for her glass just as her limp fingers let it go. It slid past his hand and shattered on the stone-flagged floor into hundreds of glittering shards.