“Thank you, Tam. Can I first just say how devastated we all are over the loss of Harvey. It should never have happened.”
My jaw tightened. “No, it shouldn’t have.”
And it wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t been in the fucking church that day.
“I’m sure you’re anxious to meet Hallie properly.”
No matter what I thought of this marriage, I had a begrudging respect for Marlon Wynter. The man ran a tight ship, and even though our families had clashed on many occasions, he’d never resorted to anything underhand.
Hallie Wynter unfolded herself from the Range Rover. My tongue flicked across my lower lip as I regarded her. Impossibly long legs covered in tight-fitting light-blue jeans emerged from the car, and then she straightened. Her red curls were loose today, falling down her back, and the scoop-neck black top exposed a good amount of cleavage. Silently, I approved. Small waist, decent sized tits, and a face that looked like it should belong on an angel. Maybe I could have fun with this.
She lifted her gaze to mine but didn’t smile. Was that a bruise across her left cheekbone? She’d tried to hide it with makeup but hadn’t succeeded. Had she sustained that the day my brother had died, or was it more recent? Something made me hesitate. Was she thinner than she’d been a week ago? Was such a thing even possible? Dark smudges of tiredness beneath her eyes had also been poorly hidden beneath the makeup. The clothes and attitude shouted ‘confident young woman’, but underneath it all seeped the air of someone who wanted to climb under the bedcovers and pretend the rest of the world didn’t exist.
I plastered a smile across my face, though it felt ridiculously fake. The smile was for her father’s benefit, not hers. She’d discover soon enough that I wasn’t one for much smiling.
“Welcome to my home, Hallie. Well, I suppose it’ll be our home soon.”
She gave me a nervous smile in return. “Umm...right.”
The driver went to the back of the vehicle and opened the boot to retrieve Hallie’s bags.
“Where should I take these?” he asked.
I motioned to the house. “Just leave them at the bottom of the stairs. I’ll carry them up later.”
He nodded and went to do as he’d been instructed.
“Why don’t you both come in,” I invited. “I’ll get us all something to drink.”
But Marlon put up his hand. “No need. I ought to get going. I’ve got work I need to get on with. I just wanted to make sure my daughter got here in one piece.”
He hadn’t trusted her not to run. Interesting to know that she seemed to be as against this marriage as I was. I wondered if that was something I could use. I didn’t think it would be too hard to send her crawling home to daddy if she didn’t even want to be here in the first place. Why was she here then? I assumed it was down to family loyalty. Neither of us wanted to be the person who let their side down.
Marlon leaned in and said something in her ear and then kissed her cheek. “I hope the two of you are very happy together,” he said. “I expect to have another wedding to go to in one month’s time.”
One where the groom isn’t murdered,I wanted to add but didn’t.
He stepped away and then shook my hand again. “I’ll leave her in your good care.”
“Don’t worry, Mr Wynter,” I said. “I’ll watch out for her.”
Marlon gave his daughter one final, tight smile before heading back to the car. The driver returned, his hands free of bags, and opened the back door for Hallie’s father. Hallie stood, frozen to the spot, watching as her father climbed back in. A moment later, the doors slammed shut and the large black vehicle did a three-point turn at speed and drove out through the gates.
I didn’t say another word to Hallie but turned and walked back up towards the house.
“Come inside,” I called back to the girl without bothering to check what she was doing.
Feet crunched on the gravel behind me. I stepped through the front doors and hit the buzzer to close the front gates again. Hallie’s bags were at the bottom of the stairs, where I’d told the driver to leave them. Hallie went and stood next to them like they were some kind of security blanket.
Her gaze flitted around the large entrance hall, taking in the high ceilings, wooden floor and curved staircase. Hallie was a Cornell and was no stranger to wealth. I highly doubted my house, worth seven figures, impressed her at all. Not that I needed to impress her.
“I’m sorry about what happened to Harvey,” she said.
I stiffened in response. “So you should be.”
“What happened wasn’t my fault.”
“He wouldn’t have been in the church that day if it wasn’t for you.”