‘I’m so sorry for your loss, my dear,’ she said without introducing herself.
‘Thank you,’ I said, feeling buzzed and hoping it didn’t show.
‘He was such a good man.’
‘Such a good man?’ I echoed.
To my horror a mad giggle escaped my lips. I covered my mouth. The woman’s eyes grew huge with speculation. There was no way to explain that if she thought that he was such a good man she couldn’t possibly have known him. He was a ruthless man. He told me so himself. A man has to decide whether he wants good friends or he wants to be rich. He cannot have both. I chose to be rich.
‘Can I have a word?’ a steely voice on my right asked.
I turned gratefully towards Ivan. His eyes were no longer molten silver but ice cold.
‘Of course,’ I said coolly.
The nameless woman excused herself and left.
‘Don’t make my job more difficult than it needs to be,’ he grated.
Anger flashed through me. Fuck him. How dare he judge me? Still, I did not let him see my irritation. I twirled the stem of the crystal flute between my fingers and looked up at him with cold disdain. ‘Do you really think I would encourage my stepson to assault me at my dead husband’s wake?’
Something shifted in his eyes. He ran his hand through his hair. ‘God,’ he said. For a moment he looked as if he felt that by taking me on he had bitten off more than he could chew.
‘Why did you have the reading of the will in that way? You must have known Rosalind would react badly. Did it please you to see her attack me?’
His jaw tightened. ‘Don’t be stupid. I needed to see all their reactions.’
‘And now that you know, what help is it to you?’
‘Time will tell,’ he said mysteriously.
‘Anyway, thank you for coming to my rescue just now.’
At that moment the woman he had come with slinked over and touched his arm. He stiffened, all expression leaching away from his eyes. Slowly, he moved his eyes away from me and looked down at her.
‘Have you met Tawny?’ he asked.
She raised one perfectly shaped eyebrow at the mention of my name and deliberately allowed her eyes to fill with condescending amusement. ‘Ah, your stepmother? No, I haven’t.’
Ivan seemed to wince when she referred to me as his stepmother. ‘Tawny, meet Chloe Somerset. Chloe, Tawny.’
‘How do you do?’ she said in an offhand way.
‘Good. Thank you for coming,’ I said in an equally careless voice.
‘I wouldn’t have missed it for the world,’ she said throatily and turned towards Ivan, her expression becoming playful. ‘Darling, we need to be getting back. I have an early start tomorrow.’
Ivan frowned. ‘I can’t leave just yet. Why don’t you let Paul drive you back?’
Chloe pouted at him. ‘How long will you be? You know how … restless I get when I’m in your bed.’
His voice was hard and impatient. ‘Then perhaps you should go back to yours?’
I cut in. ‘Look, you can go. I’m going upstairs soon, anyway. James will see the party out.’
‘We need to talk,’ he said sharply.
I nodded. ‘Yes, I know.’
‘I’m busy all day tomorrow. Are you free for dinner?’
Chloe took a quick intake of breath.
‘Yes,’ I said.
‘Good. I’ll pick you up at eight then.’
‘It might be better if we just have dinner here,’ I said quickly. I could not imagine anything more awkward than going out to dinner with him. Here at least I would be on my own turf.
‘See you at eight,’ he said and, turning away from me, left the wake. It gave a small jolt of secret pleasure to see Chloe run to keep up with his striding figure.
Chapter 8
Tawny Maxwell
I was in the Yellow Room having a dry Martini when James announced Ivan’s arrival.
My stomach contracted at the sight of him. He was like a force of nature. Even the air in the room changed. His hands hung languidly at his sides, but his entire body emitted the kind of tension of a prowling animal. From where I was I could make out the contours of his muscles under his shirt. Butterflies started fluttering in my belly. Suddenly the night ahead stretched as an uncomfortable, tense affair.
‘Hello, Ivan,’ I said nonchalantly from my seat. I had decided that I would be sophisticated and cool.
‘Hello, Tawny.’
‘Can I get you a drink?’ I asked civilly.
He turned towards James. ‘I’ll join Mrs. Maxwell in whatever she’s having.’
‘Very good, Sir,’ James said, and with a polite bow backed out of the room.
Ivan strolled towards the sofa next to mine, sat down, spread himself with his knees far apart, and fixed his silvery gaze on me.