And so she found herself making miles of mental notes about who was doing what with whom-and what they were wearing while they were doing it. Twice, she slipped away to ostensibly use the bathroom only to spend the time hiding in a corner and talking into her recorder as fast as she could.
Not that she was talking to these people under false pretenses-everyone Nic introduced her to was told she worked for the Los Angeles Times and was covering the party for their society pages. But the thing was, no one seemed to care. At least that she could tell, no one acted any differently toward her at all.
At least until she met Marc Durand.
From the moment she locked eyes with Nic's brother, she knew she was in trouble. And she couldn't even say that she didn't deserve it, because she totally did. He was the CEO of Bijoux, the man she had almost accused in print of lying, cheating, stealing and helping to fund the most egregious human rights violations. Was it any wonder he was looking at her as if he wanted to take her apart tiny piece by tiny piece? And then feed those tiny pieces to one of the sharks swimming in the tanks just beyond the pavilion?
Marc saw her and she saw Marc before Nic had a clue that anything was amiss. She tried to slip away before the eldest Durand could make a scene, but the moment she moved an inch farther away than Nic deemed acceptable, he turned to her with a frown. "Everything okay?" he asked.
She, who always had a snappy comeback, had no idea what she was supposed to say to that. And so she just shook her head, letting her eyes find Marc and his date, as they were trying to extricate themselves from the clutches of San Diego's mayor.
Nic followed her gaze, and sudden understanding flashed across his face. Then he pulled her in close, bending his head to whisper in her ear, "Everything's fine. Don't worry."
Don't worry? Easy for him to say.
He flashed Marc a grin, but Nic's older brother continued to glare at her. Which was fine, she told herself as she braced for the impending storm. She owed the man a serious apology-now was as good a time as any to get it over with. She just wished it didn't have to be in front of all these people. The humiliation of making the mistake was bad enough, but having all these people witness the fallout-people she had to work around regularly-was more than a little daunting.
Nic must not have figured that out, though, because after excusing them from a group of movie execs, he put a hand on her lower back and propelled her straight toward the center of the ballroom. Straight toward Marc.
"Hey, bro," Nic said when they reached the other couple. He clapped Marc on the back before turning to Marc's date, a gorgeous redhead with kind eyes and stunning bone structure. "Isa, you look gorgeous tonight as always." Nic leaned down to kiss her cheek.
"I do what I can," she responded, hugging him warmly. "Keeping up with the Durand brothers isn't always easy."
"I think you've got that backward," Nic told her with a laugh. "You've certainly kept Marc on his toes through the years."
"Yeah, well, someone had to." She cast a teasing glance at the man in question, then slipped her hand into his and squeezed.
"Isn't that the truth?" He kept his hand on Desi's back as he turned to her. "Desi, this is my future sister-in-law, Isa. Isa, this is Desi." He said her name with a kind of reverence it didn't deserve, his voice soft and warm and open as he pulled her even closer into his side. It was the first clue she had-or, at least, the first one she paid attention to-that said his feelings might be as strong as hers. Panic raced through her at the thought, mingled with the discomfort she already felt upon meeting Marc. For a moment all she wanted was to find a place to hide.
But that wasn't fair-to Nic or to Marc and Isa. Desi had screwed up royally and it was time to finish paying the piper. Which was why, when Nic turned to introduce her to his brother, she made sure to meet Marc's eyes, though it was the last thing she wanted to do. He was as handsome as his brother, but in a much colder, more standoffish way. How did Isa avoid getting frostbite? Desi wondered as she held her hand out to him.
"It's nice to finally put a face with the name," Marc said, his blue eyes coolly assessing her as he shook her hand. "Nic's been talking about his Desi for months."
The words should have warmed her-God knew, she'd spent much of the past five months thinking about Nic, too-but there was something in the way Marc said them that made the words sound like a condemnation instead of a simple observation.
Then again, in his mind, she'd seduced his brother, gotten pregnant, then disappeared only to write an exposé full of lies about his company. The surprise wasn't that he was insulting to her. The surprise was that he was speaking to her at all.
With that thought in mind, she took a deep breath and willed herself not to screw up what she was going to say next. Which was probably easier said than done, considering how nervous she was. And how badly she'd already messed up.
"Actually, I'm really glad we're getting this chance to meet," she told him.
"Are you, now?" He lifted a brow-it was obviously a family talent, one designed to make these two men even more devastatingly attractive. And infinitely more intimidating. "And why's that?"
His tone was polite, insouciant even, but-unlike his brother-he had a tell. It was a small one, but the way his lips tightened just a little when he looked at her told her how angry he was. Which was … fair enough.
"I want to apologize for all the trouble my article caused you," she told him. Beside her, she felt Nic stiffen, then move as if he wanted to say something. Without breaking eye contact with Marc, she put a restraining hand on Nic's hip, telling him without words that she was a big girl and needed to take care of this herself.
He didn't relax at all, but at least he didn't butt in, so she counted it as a win.
"I know that's not enough," she continued, keeping her voice steady despite Marc's laser-like gaze. "Just like I know how much damage it would have done if that article had actually gone to print. I made a lot of mistakes when I was writing that article-including avoiding speaking with Nic early on because of what had happened between us-and I'm really sorry for what I put you both through."
"It's fine, Desi." Nic wrapped a protective arm around her shoulder. "Marc understands." This last was accompanied by a hard look at his brother, one that basically told Marc he'd better accept her apology or there would be hell to pay later.
She hated so much that she was a point of contention between the two brothers. They were close-she'd read that while she'd been researching her article and now, seeing them together, she knew it was true. And the fact that they were bristling at each other right now, because of her, made her a little sick.
"On the plus side," Isa said, trying to break the very obvious tension, "if you hadn't written that article, Marc and I probably wouldn't be together now. And neither would you and Nic. So, that's two good things that came out of it, right?"
"Absolutely," Nic said, and from the look on his face he actually meant it. Which seemed crazy to her after everything she'd put him through. But when he'd said clean slate, he'd really meant it. Which-again-made him a much better person than she'd ever imagined.
"That is a good point," Marc said, and he sounded friendlier than he had just a few moments before. But the tell was still there, the tightening of his lips, even when he was smiling, and she knew things weren't nearly as over as Nic wanted them to be.
Fourteen
It took only two hours for the situation to come to a head. In that time, she'd danced with Nic, recorded copious notes and even managed to make the rounds of the aquariums to see the ones she'd missed. She'd also let Nic talk her into bidding on a homemade wooden cradle for the baby, donated to the silent auction by a San Diego artisan.
It would fit really well in Nic's house, a traitorous little voice in the back of her head said. Not that she was seriously thinking of moving in with him or anything. Because she wasn't. Not yet and probably not ever. But the cradle was pretty and she would love to put her baby in it, so who cared where it went as long as it kept their son safe and happy.
"Would you like more water?" Nic asked as they finished a dance and he escorted her off the dance floor.
"Actually, I was hoping to cut in," Marc said smoothly as he appeared from nowhere. "May I have this dance?" he asked her.
She knew she should say no, knew she should make some kind of excuse and get out of it. But there was a predatory light in his eyes that told her escape wouldn't be possible-not unless she wanted to cause more trouble between Nic and Marc, which was the absolute last thing she wanted.