"Come with me and we'll get you checked in and get your keys. Then you can take Celia up to the room."
Evan looked a little reluctant to leave her. She could well imagine why.
It was then that she remembered her finger. He'd put something on her finger.
She looked down. Holy cow! He'd slipped a huge diamond engagement ring on her finger while he'd held her hand. Fury simmered in her veins. She mentally counted to ten just so she didn't explode on the spot. The bastard had planned this all along. No one carried around a rock like this for the hell of it.
"You two go on ahead and be seated. Order our drinks. Marshall and I will be along in just a moment. I want the chance to speak to Celia for a moment."
Celia regarded Evan's mom warily as she shooed Mitchell and Bettina on toward the hotel restaurant.
When they'd disappeared, only after Bettina had glared enough holes in Celia to rival a hunk of Swiss cheese, Evan's mom seized Celia's hands and squeezed affectionately.
"Oh, my dear, I'm so thrilled to meet you. I can't tell you how fantastic your news is. I was so worried about Evan. He didn't take Bettina's defection very well, but look at you! Even more gorgeous than Bettina. I can see why Evan was so taken with you."
Celia opened her mouth and halted. What on earth could she say? With every word that poured out of the other woman's mouth, the more furious Celia became and the more sickened she was by Evan's deception.
This was some huge soap opera. Things like this didn't happen in real life. Even in really wealthy people's lives, surely.
"By the way, I don't think I introduced myself … well, other than as Evan's mother. I'm Lucy. Please do call me Lucy. Mrs. Reese just sounds so formal and we're going to be family after all."
Celia's heart sank. Lucy obviously was a really wonderful lady and super kindhearted, which only made her angrier that Evan had just lied to her. What the hell had he been thinking?
But then Lucy's other statement came back to her. The part about Bettina's defection, and suddenly it all made sense.
"Bettina and Evan were involved?" Celia asked.
Lucy colored slightly and looked abashed. "Oh, heavens, I've said too much. I always do have a problem with just prattling on. Do forgive me."
Celia smiled. "It's all right. Truly. It is one of those things women like to know. Men are so thick when it comes to these things, but if any awkwardness can be avoided, I would like to know."
And she could go straight to hell for lying, too. She'd just make sure Evan got there first for his role in this debacle.
"It's all in the past. Rest assured."
"Naturally," Celia said drily.
"Evan and Bettina were engaged. It was a long engagement. The truth of the matter is, I'm just not sure how much of Evan's affections were engaged. Bettina and Mitchell fell in love, and well, it's obvious to anyone that those two were meant for each other. Evan didn't take it well, though, and if I hadn't begged him to come to the wedding, I have no doubt he wouldn't be here."
Lucy smiled and reached out to touch Celia's arm. "Bettina led me to believe that Evan was just going on about being involved because he wasn't over her yet and didn't want to worry me, but I can see that isn't the case. You're even more beautiful than Bettina. I can tell by the way he looks at you that he's besotted. He never looked at Bettina that way."
You are such a sucker, Celia. There should be a law about being so stupid when it came to men. But then she'd spend a lot of time behind bars if that were the case.
She felt Evan's approach. It was hard to miss all that tension. Celia glanced up and met his gaze, and she didn't at all try to disguise her fury. Let him stew. He was damn lucky she liked his mom so much or she would have denounced him in front of the entire hotel lobby.
The poor woman didn't deserve to be humiliated just because her son was a first-rate ass.
Evan regarded her warily even as he turned to his mom. "We'll catch up tomorrow, Mom, okay? Celia and I have had a long day and we'd like to go up and have dinner in the room."
Lucy patted Evan on the cheek and then leaned up on tiptoe to kiss him. "Of course, dear. I'll see you both tomorrow for rehearsal."
She reached back and squeezed Celia's hand. "It was so nice meeting you, Celia."
She walked toward Evan's father and the two went in the direction of the restaurant, leaving Celia and Evan standing in the middle of the lobby.
"We're on the top level," Evan said evenly. He gestured toward the elevator and Celia strode in that direction.
They rode up in silence, the tension so thick Celia felt like the entire elevator would explode before it stopped. It was all she could not to tap her foot in agitation as she waited for the doors to open.
When they finally did, Celia stepped out, glanced down the hall and then back at Evan.
"My key," she said pointedly. "What room am I in?"
Evan sighed and pointed at the end. "We're in the two-bedroom suite on the end."
Her mouth fell open. She reached forward and snatched the key card from his grasp. Then she spun on her heel and stalked down the hall. The hell she'd share a room with him. He could go find other accommodations or he could bunk with his brother. They'd probably have a lot to talk about. Maybe they could compare notes on Bettina.
She jammed the card into the lock, listened for the snick and then shoved it open. She stepped inside and slammed the door in Evan's face.
Her feet were killing her, she was angry as hell and she was hungry. And she needed to figure out how to get off this damn island.
She kicked off her shoes and then sat on the edge of the couch next to the table with the hotel directory and a telephone. Surely the front desk could make arrangements for her departure.
The sound of the door opening had her on her feet again, and she glared indignantly as Evan walked in and shut the door behind him. He held up another key card in explanation.
He looked tired and resigned.
"Look, I know you're angry."
She held up a hand. "Don't you dare patronize me. You have no idea how furious I am. Angry doesn't even begin to cover it."
He blew out his breath and ran a hand through his hair. He tossed his suit coat onto the arm of the couch.
She pointed to the door with a shaking finger. "Out. I won't share a suite with you. I don't care how many bedrooms it has."
"I need a drink," Evan muttered.
The man wouldn't even fight with her, and by God she wanted a fight.
"You never had any intention of listening to my ideas, did you?"
He stopped on his way over to the liquor cabinet and turned back around to stare at her. He had the audacity to look puzzled.
"I've been such an idiot. I can't believe I fell for this crap. How this was the only time you could fit me in. Blah, blah, blah. How naive does that make me? How stupid does it make me?"
He held up a hand and took a step in her direction. "Celia … "
"Don't Celia me," she whispered furiously. It galled her that she could feel the prick of tears. He would not make her cry. She was through letting men make her cry.
She needed to pull it together and be professional. A really nasty, vivid curse word, one that she'd learned from her brothers burst into her mind. It was certainly appropriate under the circumstances.
Screw professional.
"I have had it with men who manipulate me because of my looks. Here's a clue. I can't help the way I look and it doesn't give you the license to use me or make assumptions about my character. And it damn sure doesn't give you the right to use me to lie to your mother because your fiancée humiliated you by dumping you for your brother. Here's another clue. Crap happens. It happens all the time. Get over it."
Evan's hands closed over her shoulders. She tried to flinch away, but he held tight. There was honest regret in his eyes, but there was also determination. Stubborn determination.
"Sit down, Celia," he ordered in a low voice.
She gaped at him.
"Please."
It was the please that did it. Or maybe it was how tired and resigned he sounded. Or maybe it was the bleak light that entered his eyes. Or maybe she was just a flaming idiot who deserved everything she got for being sucked into this in the first place.
She sank onto the sofa, her entire body trembling as he took a seat beside her.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I don't expect you to believe I didn't do this maliciously or to hurt you. I swear, I didn't."
She cast a sideways glance at him.
He sighed. "Someone really did a number on you, didn't they?"
She turned away, refusing to give him confirmation.
"Celia, look at me."
He waited, and she stared ahead. Still, he waited. Finally, she gave in and turned to look at him.
"I completely and utterly messed this up. I freely admit it. I expected to have time to discuss this with you before we ran into my family."
She struggled to control her temper. He obviously wanted a reasonable discussion when she was feeling anything but reasonable. What she really wanted was to crack his skull on the coffee table and leave, but then she'd be without a room, and if anyone was sleeping in the hallway, it wasn't going to be her.