‘Okay,’ Zavier relented. ‘But only Aiden. I mean it, Tabitha, no one else can know. Not your best friend, not your hairdresser, not even your parents.’
Tabitha’s hands tightened around her glass. ‘My parents are both dead.’
If she had expected sympathy she didn’t get it. ‘Well, at least you won’t have to lie to them.’
Shocked at his callousness, she opened her mouth to protest. But Zavier was in full swing. ‘No wonder you and Aiden are friends. You’re exactly like him.’
‘We’re nothing alike,’ Tabitha protested.
‘Oh, yes, you are. Neither of you have ever had to worry about meeting a mortgage payment—no doubt you inherited your house?’
‘What on earth has that got to do with anything?’
‘Well, it goes some way to explaining why you have such a reckless attitude to money, why you’ve spent your life to date indulging your fantasies. It must be pretty easy to call yourself a dancer when you don’t have to worry about mortgage payments—worry about keeping a roof over your head.’
‘You’re so bitter,’ Tabitha snapped, but Zavier merely shrugged.
‘I’m a realist.’
‘A bitter realist.’
‘Perhaps.’ Leaning forward, he lowered his voice. ‘We met at the wedding, we fell head over heels in love, we’re as stunned as we are delighted.’ Tapping his fingers, he reeled off the platitudes then leant back in his chair. ‘That’s the story we’ll tell everyone. No wavering, no deviation—not without discussing it with each other first.’
‘Won’t your parents find it strange?’ Tabitha chewed her lower lip, simply refusing to believe it was all that simple.
Zavier shrugged. ‘Why would they? Aiden only ever passed you off as a close friend; it was all innuendo. Just remember: we met at the wedding…’
‘…fell head over heels in love…’ Tabitha continued as Zavier raised his glass to hers.
‘…and are as stunned as we’re delighted,’ he finished as their glasses chinked. ‘Good girl—you’re getting the idea.’
Strange that any praise from Zavier made her blush.
‘Look, Tabitha, as long as we keep pretending they’ll believe us.’
‘I’m just nervous, that’s all. I can’t quite believe it myself; I guess that makes it harder to believe that everyone will fall for it.’
‘Why wouldn’t they?’
‘Does anyone fall in love so quickly?’
For once Zavier was off the mineral water, and he took a long sip of his Scotch before answering. ‘Who said anything about love? The fact I’m getting married will be enough for my parents.’
‘Speaking of your parents, how are we going to tell them?’ Tabitha ventured, but her words trailed off as a beaming, smiling man appeared#p#分页标题#e#
‘Is everything to your satisfaction Monsieur Chambers?’ The owner, obviously thrilled at his clientele, appeared at the table.
‘Actually, now you mention it, Pierre, no! Everything is not to my satisfaction.’ His haughty upper-class tones filled the restaurant and Tabitha slid down in her chair as every face turned to the impromptu cabaret.
Pierre clicked his fingers and a multitude of anxious waiters appeared. ‘What is the problem, monsieur? Tell me now and I fix it this instant.’
Zavier’s face broke into a smile, and Tabitha’s blush only deepened as he reached across the table. Taking her hand, he kissed it deeply, and the coolness of his tongue instantly replaced her embarrassment. In a flash her audience was forgotten as the liquid silk of his eyes met hers, the velvet of his lips slowly working its way over her palm.
‘My problem is…’ Zavier drawled between kisses, his eyes never once leaving hers.
‘Oui?’ Pierre answered, desperate to please.
‘That there’s no champagne. Tell me, Pierre, what’s a wedding proposal without your best French champagne?’
It was all clicking fingers, corks popping, bubbles fizzing and congratulations being offered as Zavier dug in his suit, producing a tiny black velvet box.
‘I haven’t said yes yet,’ she whispered furiously across the table, but her indignation at his brazen presumption was brushed aside as he took her hand and closed her fingers around the box, his voice a low drawl and for her ears only.
‘You can dump me tomorrow.’
The surprise on Tabitha’s face when she fiddled with the tiny gold clasp and the box finally opened was genuine. As the ring caught the candlelight and glittered mockingly in her face she found herself staring at the darkest, largest ruby—beautiful in its simplicity, perfect, even. Everything this relationship wasn’t.