He didn’t want to be the cause of her pain. Had never wanted that. “Caro, when I met Megan...”
He knew how it looked. Knew he would probably never be able to make her understand.
“Did you fall in love with her?” The words snapped past her lips with a sort of biting accusation he never would have expected. But she was hurt, and the truth was he didn’t know her that well. Had never wanted to look beyond the social-elite exterior she’d shown him. “No. I’m guessing not. Just another handy assembly of qualifications falling into your lap a mere thirteen days after you suggested Bali for our honeymoon, is that about it? Too convenient to pass up. An opportunity not to be missed.
“I knew you were cold, Connor. But even for you... Does she have any idea? Probably not, considering how fast you married her. I’m guessing it won’t be too long, though, before she sees through the smile and charm, your attention, affection—sees how you can turn it on and off at the flick of a switch. Walk away without a backward glance. Or maybe she doesn’t care. Maybe it’s the pretty packaging and size of your checkbook that matters.”
Connor felt the burn of anger mingling with his guilt. He knew Caroline had been hurt, and he was truly sorry for it. If the barbs she was throwing had been directed at him alone, he would have taken them. But they weren’t.
“Caro,” he said, lowering his voice as he leaned closer to her. “Don’t do this. People are watching.”
She scanned the crowd around them, straightened her spine, and then met his eyes with bitter satisfaction shining in her own. “Yes. They are.”
And just like that, he knew.
Straightening away from the woman who might have been his wife, he found Megan standing stock-still at the edge of the crowd surrounding them. She appeared frozen in place. Caught midstep on her way toward him. One hand half-extended, her mouth hanging in a mockery of the gentle smile she always wore.
“Megan,” he said, taking a step toward her. “Let’s get our coats.”
Megan’s eyes followed his approach. One blink. Two.
From behind him, soothing words sounded as a number of women moved in to try to defuse the situation with Caroline—only, she wasn’t through yet.
Voice rising above the din, she called, “I was going to offer your new wife the advice I wish someone had given me—not to fall in love with you. But by the look on her face, it’s already too late.”
Damn it! “Enough, Caro.”
Megan’s lips parted on an intake of breath that may have been the precursor to a response or refutation...only, then they closed with a tiny shake of her head and a helpless smile.
His hand settled at the curve of her hip, his body moving in close enough to shield her from prying eyes. “We’ll talk at home.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
MEGAN WALKED THROUGH to the living room, her steps clipped and graceless, her mind a riot of fragmented thoughts, confusion and unwelcome emotion.
The door closed behind her.
The lock fell and Connor’s approach echoed through the marble entry.
Dropping her wrap over the back of the couch, she stared across at the wall of glass—and the black void of the Pacific beyond—wishing she were anywhere else but there.
“I know...” A muffled curse sounded as Connor’s hand ran over his mouth in the reflection. “I know you weren’t...prepared for that.”
Megan shook her head.
No. Not even a little bit.
“I feel like a fool,” she admitted, figuring one of them should offer up the whole truth.
Connor closed the distance between them, circling his arms around her belly and pulling her into the solid heat of him. “Don’t. If anyone was a fool tonight, it was me and Caroline. I still can’t believe— Hell, Megan, you have to understand I never expected this from her. If I had—”
“What?” she demanded, pulling free of his arms to face him. “Bothered to tell me the truth? Shared the more damning details...so I’d have a chance to be prepared if they ever came up?”