Hidden Mistress, Public Wife(51)

A butler met them at the front door. They stepped into a grand foyer where a magnificent display of her red roses stood on a marble pedestal. It put a smile on Ivy’s face, her eyes twinkling at Jordan, who she knew had organised that, too. The butler ushered them into an incredibly fabulous ballroom: massive crystal chandeliers, mirrored walls, gorgeous sofas, chairs and ornamental tables ringing the dance floor, and doors opening out to a balcony at the end of it.

A live band was playing from a dais in one of the far corners. Most of the younger guests were kicking up their heels on the dance floor. Ivy spotted Heather and Graham amongst them. The rest of the crowd were sitting or standing around chatting, helping themselves to whatever was being offered on the trays of food and drinks being circulated by an army of waiters.

Nonie Powell rose from a chaise longue and came forward to greet them, her royal-blue satin evening dress adding to her queenly air. Sacha detached herself from a group of people, trailing eagerly after her, very much the colourful butterfly in a bright orange silk pantsuit with a long split jacket in shades of violet, blue and turquoise and printed with orange and red flowers. She wasn’t actually wearing bells but lots of gold necklaces and bangles were jingling.

The contrast between the mothers was huge.

Totally different backgrounds, Ivy thought, hoping it would never become a divisive issue. Congratulatory kisses were bestowed. Jordan’s mother drew them over to a seated group of her closest friends to introduce Ivy. They were all very gracious to her, amused that Jordan had finally been caught, saying Ivy must have many admirable qualities to make him drop his playboy mantle, and wanting to hear their plans for the future. The conversation was easy, fun, and Ivy began to relax and enjoy herself.

After they’d posed for the society photographer for a few happy snaps, Olivia dragged them away, declaring her friends were insisting on an audience with the newly engaged couple. Ivy instantly seized the opportunity to thank Jordan’s sister for her letter, saying she hoped they could be friends in the future, too.

‘Just don’t bring any poison into my brother’s life and you’ll have my respect forever,’ Olivia replied, bubbling over with high spirits.

Champagne was flowing and all the introductions were carried out with good humour. Jordan fed it with his charm, satisfying the curiosity about their relationship with amusing stories of how hard he’d had to work to win her. The women admired the ring. The men admired her as a woman. Ivy felt herself being scrutinised from head to foot by both genders but there was no real discomfort from it. The general flow of approval put her at ease.

‘The pair of you look fantastic together,’ Heather whispered to her in passing. ‘You’re slaying ‘em, Ivy. No worries.’

The only worry was in trying to remember the names of so many people. Jordan helped by repeating them throughout the conversations. On the whole, Ivy thought she was coping fairly well, but she was glad when Jordan insisted they be excused because he couldn’t wait any longer to dance with her.

It was a relief to be alone together for a little while, to simply sink into Jordan’s embrace and feel at one with him. The slow beat of the jazz waltz thumped through her heart, giving her a dreamy sense of contentment. This was her man and he was the best partner she could ever have to spend her life with.

‘Happy?’ he murmured, dropping a hot kiss on her hair.

She lifted her head up from his shoulder to shoot him a brilliant smile. ‘Very happy.’

He smiled back, the sexy simmer in his eyes giving her a buzz of pleasure. Making love tonight was going to be extra special. She wished they could leave now, but.

‘Please excuse me, Mr Powell. I have a message for Miss Thornton.’

It was the butler, startling them both with his intrusion on the dance floor. What message couldn’t wait a few more minutes until the music ended?

‘Some problem, Lloyd?’ Jordan asked, frowning at him.

‘Mrs Powell sent me to tell Miss Thornton her father has arrived.’

‘My father?’ Ivy cried in astonishment. ‘There must be some mistake. My father died over two years ago.’

The butler shook his head in dismayed confusion. ‘I have no knowledge of this. The man was not on the guest list but he showed identification and explained that he’d been in Melbourne on business and didn’t think he could make it to the party on such short notice. However, he’d managed to get an evening flight and didn’t want to miss such a special occasion for his daughter. It seemed reasonable …’

‘He’s an imposter,’ Ivy insisted, appalled that anyone would try such an offensive stunt.