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not. While the guests might be comfortable, I most certainly will not.” A muscle flexed in his jaw, and his eyes glinted with something that looked like pain.
Perhaps the memory of Fliss, of the happiness they’d shared that night, was too much? A terrible thought struck her. Had she been wrong all those years ago? Had Damon loved Fliss?
Madly?
Deeply?
Eternally?
And if he had, then he would never accept that she’d simply done what she’d had to the night before his wedding. What she’d believed was right.
“I think you’re right,” Rebecca conceded, hating the grey tinge that had crept in under his olive tan and hating herself for contributing to it. “It’s huge and may be too overwhelming for Demetra. She told me she doesn’t want anything too grand.”
“Then let’s get out of here,” Damon said tersely.
Rebecca’s second choice of venue was an old, established yacht club that fronted onto the Waitemata Harbour. It was far less imposing, the ballroom more intimate, the view of the water and Auckland’s famous Harbour Bridge simply stunning. As the club’s function manager guided them around, Damon unclenched his fisted hands and slowly started to relax.
He’d been appalled by the emotion that had smothered him at the San Lorenzo. His towering anger at Rebecca the night of his wedding had come blasting back, an unwelcome reminder of the friction that had existed between them.
Why?
Why had they fought all the time? Why had she insisted on challenging him? Telling him that he couldn’t marry Fliss? Provoking him by flaunting her body at him, demanding that he kiss her…and more? And why had he been unable to let the smallest challenge pass?
He could remember wishing Rebecca would behave like Felicity, shy and in awe of him. Felicity had made a lovely bride. But even that memory was tarnished. Somehow he’d failed Felicity. She’d chosen to desert him. Had she known he’d failed her? That he’d betrayed her the night before he spoke his wedding vows?
He’d expected Rebecca to put up a fight against his high-handed veto of the San Lorenzo. Or at least to argue. She’d clearly established a good business relationship with Andre in the past. Yet she’d given in to his demand with barely a murmur. He’d been grateful, silently grateful. How could he, Damon Asteriades, confess that he couldn’t bear the idea of celebrating his brother’s wedding on the site where his own disastrous marriage had been sealed? Of dancing amidst too many damned ghosts?
Damon told himself he was tagging along to make sure she was fulfilling his mother’s brief for the wedding. But he knew it was more than that.
The wanting, the dark desire, had him tied up in knots. And when he’d seen her struggling with the car, the opportunity had been too good to pass up. But he’d also been consumed by curiosity. He’d seen Rebecca the successful chocolate boutique owner, Rebecca the mother and Rebecca the kind friend to an ill older woman. He’d wanted to see more, to see all the facets that made up the enigmatic women who roused such strong responses in him.
As he followed in her wake, Damon had to admit Rebecca was good at what she’d once earned a living doing. Never would he have thought of asking a tenth of the questions listed on her clipboard. Once, she pulled out her cell phone, rang his mother to check whether any wheelchair facilities would be needed and conveyed the negative reply back to their guide. She questioned. She smiled. And each time she laughed, the heat inside Damon grew and he wanted to taste that lush, laughing mouth. His. He pushed the disturbing thought aside and watched her jot a note down on a pad. She was focused, professional and totally in charge.
The promise he’d made himself in the hospital car park reared up in his mind. He wanted her. All of her. And there was nothing to stop him having her.
Rebecca finished off, arranging to come back to meet the chef who handled the catering, and Damon reached in his pocket for his car keys. “Well, that’s all for now,” she told the function manager. “When I return, I will bring the bride to see if the venue fits with her plans.”
Rebecca was deep in thought when they returned to the Mercedes. Something bothered her about the yacht club. Something that she couldn’t quite put her finger on.
“Time for lunch, I think.” Damon’s voice interrupted her thoughts.
“Oh, I can’t keep you any longer.”
“We both need to eat. And there is something I’ve been wanting to discuss with you. You’ve been very hard to find, Rebecca, these past couple of days. I might almost think you’ve been avoiding me.”
“Avoiding you?” Her voice was high-pitched. “Why would I do that?”
“If I knew, I wouldn’t have had to tag along all morning to get a chance to see you alone.”
So he’d stayed because he had an agenda of his own. Rebecca’s pulse started to pound. “I don’t think—”
“Don’t.” He held up a hand. “Don’t think. Just come and share a meal with me. One of my favourite restaurants is not very far from here. I’ll talk. You can listen and savour the food.” He gave a slight smile that relieved his usually harsh features.
There’d be more to it than him talking, Rebecca suspected. A frisson slithered down her spine. Yet she was intrigued enough to want to see what kind of establishment he favoured. Even though she knew it was risky. Every minute she spent with him increased the attraction he held. Brought her closer to falling back into the dangerous quagmire of emotions she’d once before barely survived.
Slowly Rebecca nodded her assent.
Not far turned out to be a twenty-minute drive into the country, where Damon finally nosed the Mercedes into a long pohutukawa-lined avenue. The large hand-carved wooden letters against a schist wall announced simply Lakeland Lodge. Through the trees Rebecca caught a glimpse of a large country house and a vast silver sheet of water glittering beyond.
Her breath caught. “How lovely,” she breathed.
The lodge radiated serenity. Informal arrangements of country flowers decorated the foyer, and Rebecca paused at a large picture window at the sight of the colourful gardens leading down to the lake.
“What magnificent gardens,” she murmured.
Damon smiled. “I thought you’d like it here.”
After a moment she took the arm he offered and they made their way to the restaurant, where Damon was greeted with enthusiasm and shown to a table with a fine view of the gardens.
“How on earth did you discover this place?” Rebecca asked after they’d perused the menu and placed their orders.
“In the way one finds out about all best-kept secrets—by word of mouth. I came here to celebrate the silver wedding anniversary of a business acquaintance.”
“I never even knew it existed.”
“Then I have achieved something. I didn’t think there was an establishment in Auckland you didn’t know.” He gave her a narrow smile. Before Rebecca could retort, their smoked salmon starters arrived and a companionable silence fell between them.
“That was heavenly.” She laid her fork down. Taking a deep breath she decided to get whatever he’d brought her here to discuss out of the way. “There is something you wanted to talk about?”
His eyes became serious, intent. His mouth flattened into a grim line. Apprehension flooded Rebecca. She hoped it wasn’t what she’d been dreading. Did he suspect…?
Had he worked it out? No, he couldn’t have. He’d have given some sign surely. But the gravity of his expression worried her as the seconds dragged past and still he didn’t answer.
Just when her nerves reached breaking point,