In Bed With the Enemy: Dating and Other Dangers / Dare She Kiss & Tell? / Double Dare. Natalie Anderson
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keep herself on track she focused on watching the little girl at the very front, the one all dressed up in a pretty pink confection and bouncing around as if she was on a sugar high.
‘That’s Isabella, Jess’s eldest.’ So Ethan was watching her too.
It seemed everyone else was watching them. As they stood circling the font during the service, she caught several people looking at her and at Ethan, and at the way he now held her hand tightly—not from affection, but so she couldn’t inch away from where he stood too close. Near the back of the group there was a gaggle of beautiful women in beautiful dresses, and they all had hungry features when they looked at Ethan. Even those women obviously in a couple glanced at them too often, curiosity bright in their eyes. Nadia felt more midget-like than ever, and dreaded the tea party to follow. She suspected she was in for some unsubtle grilling. And she was right.
‘Meet Nadia.’
Over and over again he introduced her, never once applying any description to her name—no my date, Nadia, no my friend, Nadia, no bitch queen, Nadia—and of course no one there was impolite enough to ask. Yes, he was a master at preserving the mystery. She met uncles, aunts, cousins, family friends, an endless stream of people involved in Ethan’s life. And she was too acutely aware of his presence at her side to be able to learn anything much.
‘I’ll get you another drink,’ he murmured, relieving her of her empty champagne glass. ‘We’ll switch to lemonade now, huh? Wouldn’t want you getting too hot from the wine.’
She ignored the wicked look he threw her, too nervous about being left alone to face questions to be able to rise to the banter. She turned towards the garden, hoping to avoid everyone, and followed a path between billowing roses, reaching out to touch some of the soft, perfect petals.
‘Beautiful, aren’t they?’
Nadia glanced up. From the other side of a crimson rose-laden bush, an older man held out a glass of champagne to her. To her surprise she recognised the smooth voice—but not his face. She took the glass he offered with a slight smile and rummaged round her useless mind. ‘Yes, they are.’
‘I like that one best—Grüss an Tepliz.’ He pointed to the red ones and added with a smile. ‘My name’s Matthew.’
Of course, she had it now—Matthew Rush. He was a veteran political correspondent. She’d heard him do hundreds of interviews on the radio in the morning, when her parents had been listening as they’d got ready for work. She’d been “shushed” so many times for talking during this guy’s reports. Matthew Rush—so in what way was he related to Ethan?
‘I’m Nadia.’ She smiled and took the tiniest sip from her glass. Ethan had actually been right in knowing she didn’t want more, but she wanted to be polite. ‘I like these.’
Matthew nodded. ‘Good choice. Souvenir de la Malmaison. Polly planted them for Jess a couple of years ago. She did a great job.’
‘Yes, they’re amazing.’ Nadia walked further into the display.
‘This one has an incredible scent.’ Matthew touched a bush smothered in milky blooms. ‘Madame Alfred Carrière.’
‘Nadia.’
Nadia turned at the sharp interruption. Ethan stood at the beginning of the grassy path. She could feel the waves of hostility from here. She snatched a quick glance at the man by her side. But Matthew Rush wasn’t giving anything away.
‘Ethan,’ he said calmly.
‘Dad.’ Ethan clipped the iciest answer back.
Nadia couldn’t have broken the huge, gaping silence even if she tried. Matthew Rush was Ethan’s dad?
Finally Ethan turned to her and spoke, his voice betraying a roughness that his father’s polished-for-radio tones never would. ‘I’ll show you the boathouse. Jess has just had it redecorated.’
‘Okay—great.’ She nodded and walked, sending Matthew a smile for farewell, completely confused as to why Ethan had suddenly turned into the ice man.
‘I didn’t know Matthew Rush is your father,’ she said, just for something to say.
He didn’t answer—just kept walking until they were both out of earshot and view of the other guests, until they were in front of the cute restored wooden boathouse. Only then did he turn and face her.
Nadia swallowed when she saw his expression—tight, pale, too controlled. He was angry. Angrier than the day he’d stormed in to see her at work and threatened to sue her. So angry she felt adrenalin surge into every cell, preparing her to fight. Except she didn’t know about what.
‘He’s pretty famous,’ she added, still confused. ‘I’ve heard so many of his reports.’ He’d written a book too, if she remembered right. And now the interviewer himself got interviewed.
‘Yeah, you and he would hit it off. You have a lot in common. The need to make yourself important. To be heard by a lot of people. To be recognised.’ Ethan almost snarled.
Okay, she knew she was missing something major, but he didn’t need to go off at her. ‘There’s a flaw in your analysis, Ethan.’ She wasn’t going to let him get away with insults just because he’d been hit by a freak bad mood. ‘Your father seeks fame under his own name. I’m anonymous. WomanBWarned isn’t about me—it’s about making a difference. I’m not taking advantage of my relationships to make a name for myself. In fact you’re the one who put our dates out there for everyone to read.’
He glared at her. She watched closely for the steam to start shooting from his ears.
‘Maybe you’re like your father,’ she said blandly. ‘Wanting to be popular.’
Colour flooded into his cheeks. ‘I’m nothing like him.’
‘Really?’ His vehemence intrigued her. ‘Why? What’s he like?’
‘Isn’t it obvious?’ he snapped. ‘Hell, how do you think it makes me feel to see him hitting on the girl I brought here?’
‘What?’ Nadia gaped. Then giggled. A lot. ‘Ethan, he wasn’t hitting on me. We were talking about the roses.’
But Ethan wasn’t seeing the funny side. Ethan was glowering all the more. ‘I’ve known the guy a whole lot longer than you. I’ve seen that look before.’
She shook her head—the idea was outlandish. ‘You’ve had too much champagne in the sun. You’re seeing things.’ But her humour died when he still didn’t lighten up. He really thought his own father had been flirting with her? That she’d go along with that? ‘You know, it’s completely insulting of you to think that I’d—’
‘I know you wouldn’t,’ he snapped. ‘But he would.’
Nadia thought about it. She hadn’t seen Matthew up at the front near Ethan’s mum during the christening. She hadn’t seen Ethan talk to him. There’d been some veiled comment from Polly when they’d arrived—about who’d been going to bring their mum, about whether “he” was here. And “him” being here alone had been major enough for Polly to point it out. She didn’t need a psychology degree to figure his parents had split—and that it wasn’t amicable. And that there’d probably been adultery issues. Yeah, now she thought about it, some would think Matthew was suave. She’d just thought he was old.
She nibbled the inside of her lip and tried not to stare at how uncomfortable Ethan looked. Fiercely defensive, but vulnerable, he turned away from her. She melted, and the desire to reassure him rose—she wished she understood what scar it was that had just been ripped open. ‘Ethan, your father was nothing but charming to me.’
‘Yeah, he’s always charming to women.’
Nadia half smiled and answered softly, ‘So are you.’
Sharply