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Wolfe chuckled. He’d enjoyed Astrid’s company for five busy nights while he was working in Vienna a month ago, and she had enjoyed his. When he’d tried to say goodbye she’d kicked up a stink. Accused him of using her. Wolfe’s anger had surfaced then. He knew he had a name for being a heartless womaniser but he was simply honest. He didn’t see the point in beating around the bush and pretending to feel things he didn’t. And nor did he sleep with as many women as his reputation would suggest. He wouldn’t have any time left over for work if he did.
‘What can I say? She was one of the smart ones.’
Wolfe waited for his friend to start up another good-natured lecture about settling down. Anne, it seemed, had reformed the once bad-boy Marquis to the point where Wolfe now almost preferred her company to his.
‘Well, that works out well for me.’
‘It does?’
Gilles chuckled. ‘Don’t look so relieved. I wasn’t about to try and reform the unreformable.’
‘Thank God.’
‘But I do need a favour.’
Favours Wolfe could do.
‘Sure.’
‘There’s a girl I need you to keep your eye on tonight at the reception.’
Wolfe didn’t exactly look at the sky, but he came close. ‘Friend of Anne’s, by chance?’
‘Yes, actually. But, no, I’m not trying to set you up, you suspicious clod. She’s the woman my father wanted me to marry.’
Gilles’s words sparked a distant memory of a late-night chat from years back that Wolfe had completely forgotten about. He took another pull of his drink and wished it was beer in an icy bottle instead of champagne in a tepid glass. ‘I’m listening.’
‘Years ago my father and hers came to the decision that we would forge a strong union if we married when we came of age.’
‘I think you “came of age” about ten years ago, my friend, and isn’t that a little last century?’
Gilles’s mouth twisted into an ironic smile. ‘You’ve met my father. Hers is worse. Anyway, the media have done a good job beating some life into the old story this past week, playing up the whole jilted fiancée thing, and Anne said it’s been a bit rough on her.’
Wolfe knew what it felt like to be talked about behind his back. Even if the people in the small town he’d grown up in had been doing so out of sympathy rather than slander. At least for him and his brother, at any rate. ‘What’s wrong with her?’ he asked suspiciously.
Gilles scoffed. ‘Nothing. But I don’t want you to sleep with her. Actually, I’d be downright angry if you did. She’s gorgeous, and way too good for you. I just want you to keep an eye on her. Make sure she’s having a good time.’
‘Who is she?’ he asked, premonition snaking down his spine.
‘See the woman talking to Anne now?’
Wolfe didn’t have to look to know it was the Princess from the wall and he nearly groaned. Anyone but her. But at least now it made sense why she had been so familiar with the estate. They were family friends.
Wolfe turned his back on the woman he was intent on avoiding for the rest of his life. ‘I’m sure she can take care of herself.’
Gilles gave him a quizzical look and Wolfe cursed his curt tone. He had nothing against the Princess, really. Except for the fact that she’d occupied his mind all afternoon and made him want to push her sweet skirt up around her waist and take her up against the nearest hundred-year-old oak. He definitely didn’t want to find out that Gilles had once been with her. Had they been lovers? The thought left a sour taste in his mouth.
‘I’m sure she will, too, but as she’s attending the wedding alone I thought you could keep your eye on her for me. You know—ask her to dance, make sure she has a drink.’
Today he’d been mistaken for a rescue service, a gardener and now…‘You’ve got waiters for that, and I’m not a damned babysitter.’
Gilles’s eyebrows shot up, but before he could say anything his new wife stepped around Wolfe and curled her arm through Gilles’s. ‘Babysitting who?’
Her green eyes met Wolfe’s speculatively and Wolfe saw Gilles’s eyes fall guiltily on someone behind him.
‘I hope you do not mean me, Gilles?’ Ava’s tone was as lyrical and as superior as Wolfe remembered it.
Gilles stepped forward and kissed both her cheeks. ‘Ava, you look as beautiful as ever.’
‘I can see that you do mean me,’ she berated lightly. ‘And I can assure you I do not need babysitting.’
Her eyes briefly cut to Wolfe’s with such aloof disdain it made him want to smile. He remembered her hands splayed over the ridges of his abdominal muscles as she’d clung to him on the horse. She might not like him very much, but he knew dislike wasn’t the only emotion she felt.
‘Of course you don’t, ma petite.’ Gilles humoured her. ‘Now, let me introduce you to Wolfe, a good friend of mine.’
Unable to prevent himself from ruffling her regal feathers, Wolfe tilted his head. ‘We’ve met. How’s the head?’ His eyes drifted to the wide-brimmed hat, tilted to one side to conceal the bruise on her forehead. The pale pink exactly matched a flirty two-piece suit that followed the line of her curves all the way to her perfectly shaped calves and slender ankles.
Exceptional legs, he thought, his gaze trekking slowly back up to her face.
She arched a brow that told him she hadn’t taken kindly to his once-over, or to the implied intimacy in his tone.
‘You know each other?’ Gilles regarded Ava in surprise.
‘No.’
‘Oh?’ Gilles cut his curious gaze back to Wolfe.
‘Shall I tell him, or do you want to?’ Wolfe drawled.
After briefly glaring all sorts of retribution his way, she turned a serene smile on Gilles and Anne. ‘It was nothing. I had a small problem with my car and your friend kindly provided me with a lift to the château.’
‘A small problem with your car?’ Gilles frowned.
Wolfe held her gaze as he felt the others turn to him and told himself to leave well enough alone. Ruffling her glorious feathers was not on his agenda, even if his body was demanding that he forge a new one—preferably starting with her naked on top of a set of silk sheets. ‘What Her Highness means is that she had a car accident, climbed your outer wall and got captured by my men—’
‘And stole your horse because you were being incredibly rude!’ she provided, cutting Gilles’s blustering in half.
Wolfe shifted his weight and stuck one hand into his pocket. ‘And here I was thinking you stole him because you wanted to go for a ride.’ He rubbed his hand across his abdomen, unable to stop himself from teasing her a little.
‘I did think about it,’ she murmured huskily, the quick dart of her pink tongue caressing her lower lip and sending a bolt of lust straight to his groin. ‘But since he wasn’t up to my usual standard I thought why bother?’
Wolfe laughed at her bald-faced put-down. Gilles was fortunately too worried about her accident to pick up on the subtext, but Anne’s interested glances told him that she wasn’t quite as obtuse.
‘You weren’t hurt?’ Anne queried, concern lacing her words.
‘A bump on the head,’ Ava dismissed casually. ‘Really, the whole thing was incredibly insignificant.’
Wolfe’s lips quirked. ‘You know, I wouldn’t have described it that way myself.’
‘No?’ Ava held his gaze. ‘Maybe you need to get out more.’
‘Maybe I do,’ he agreed, noting the line of pink that highlighted her lovely cheekbones. Maybe he needed to get out with her. No. He’d already decided not to go there. But, damn, he was enjoying sparring with her.
‘But what were you doing on the wall?’ Gilles interrupted with a frown.
‘Well, trying to get down, obviously,’ Ava returned pithily. ‘Which would have been a lot easier if you hadn’t removed that lovely old chestnut tree.’
Gilles gave a typically Gallic shrug. ‘I had no choice. It was a security risk.’
Wolfe laughed right up until the moment she shared a warm smile with Gilles. Again he wondered at their history. Had she been in love with his friend? Was she still? Was that why Gilles had asked him to watch out for her? Was it possible she would cause trouble if he didn’t? Questions, questions, questions. And there was really only one he wanted answered.
How responsive would she be in his bed?
His name suited him, Ava mused absently, nursing a flute of champagne as she willed the evening reception to finish.
Predatory.
Intense.
Arrogant.
And utterly transfixing when he turned those molten toffee-coloured eyes on her. Not to mention aloof and emotionally unavailable if the evening gossip was to be believed.
‘They call him Ice, and apparently he has a heart as hard to find as a pink diamond,’ one woman had said, giggling as she’d gazed longingly across the room at him.
Ava had rolled her eyes. She knew many women saw an unattainable man—especially a wealthy alpha male like Wolfe—as a personal challenge to go forth and rehabilitate, but she wasn’t one of them. She was only interested in a man who was caring and considerate and who respected a woman as more than just a trophy to be admired and trotted out when it suited him. A gentle, sophisticated man, who was looking for love and companionship more than short affairs with a variety of women.
That thought reminded her of the luncheon she’d had with Anne last month. ‘Hot’ and ‘divine’ were words that had been bandied around when she’d talked about a friend of Gilles’s called Wolfe. As had ‘confirmed bachelor’. Ava remembered zoning out at that point, telling her friend she wasn’t at all interested in commitment-phobes like her ex. Which put Gilles’s ‘hot’ friend with the beautiful eyes and corrugated abdominal muscles firmly off her Christmas list.
Even if he did looked incredible in a custom-made tuxedo.
Oh, stop, she scolded herself. Lots of men looked incredible in tuxedos; they were the equivalent of a corset for women.
Of course lots of men hadn’t made her burn just by looking at her, or made her want to touch them all over, but that was just bad luck. Or maybe it was more to do with how uncomfortable she felt tonight. Maybe she was just looking for a distraction from all the polite smiles and curious stares from many of the other guests.
Those who were friends knew that she’d never seriously been involved with Gilles, but they were intent on having a good time and she felt curiously lonely in the large crowd.
Her mind was intent on remembering the way Wolfe had held her in his arms that morning, with such breathless ease she hadn’t been able to stop herself from imagining what it would be like to kiss him. Embarrassingly, she had even held herself perfectly still as if in anticipation of that kiss!
Pah!
She was just feeling a little strained after having to put on a brave face all day. And, okay, she was also a little intrigued by Wolfe. It had been a long time since a man had caught her attention. A long time since she had wondered about his kiss. A long time since she had felt the warmth of a man’s loving embrace. Not that Wolfe’s would be loving—but it would be warm…
Ava pulled a wry face at herself. Before today she wouldn’t have said she had missed a man’s embrace at all. But right now, watching this one they called Ice nonchalantly circle the room but not quite participate in the frivolities made her ache for it.
And don’t try using that sexy little body to garner any favours, Princess.
Ava’s lips tightened.
Arrogant.
Rude.
Unsophisticated.
Uncultured.
So why had she surreptitiously touched his body at the first opportunity?
Ava shivered and raised her champagne glass to her lips.
Empty. Drat.
The doctor Wolfe had sent to see her—an unexpectedly nice gesture she still had to thank him for—had told her it would be best if she didn’t drink tonight. Her position as ‘jilted fiancée’ in a room full of her peers told her it would be best if she did.
Taking another glass of Gilles’s best from a passing waiter, she took a fortifying sip. It didn’t surprise her that Wolfe had a reputation with women. A man who could lift a fully grown woman off a horse and lower her slowly to the ground with one hand held a certain earthy appeal.
For some, she reminded herself firmly. Not for her.
‘My dance, I believe?’
For a minute Ava imagined the deep voice behind her was Wolfe, but it lacked a certain velvety-rough tenor and hadn’t sent any delicious tingles down her spine so she knew it wasn’t. Turning, she smiled at a nice English Lord who had been hounding her all night.
She didn’t feel like dancing with him, but nor did she feel like triggering more gossip by refusing every man who approached her. Smiling with a polite reserve she hoped he read as, Lovely, but be assured I’m not interested in furthering our acquaintance, she stepped into his arms. Which was when she caught sight of Wolfe, watching her yet again from across the room. Her eyes immediately ran over the woman at his side, who looked young, happy and relaxed. By contrast Ava felt old, surly and uptight. Which was partly Wolfe’s fault, she thought churlishly, because she couldn’t seem to stop thinking about him.
And the fact that he had a beautiful woman at his side while he held his eyes on her only confirmed that the talk about him playing the field was true. Unless he had been watching her all night because of Gilles’s silly request that he ‘babysit’ her. For some reason the latter thought aggravated Ava more than the former.
Five minutes later, feeling as graceful as a goose under Wolfe’s constant regard, she sent her dance partner to fetch her a glass of water so she could find out. She didn’t need an audience when she told Wolfe that his attention was not only supremely annoying but totally unnecessary.
Orientating herself in the vast room, she located him lazily propping up a wall in a dimly lit section of the ballroom, feeling ridiculously elated when she found the bubbly blonde was no longer running her fingernails up and down his powerful forearm.
He didn’t say anything when she stopped in front of him, just looked down at her through a screen of thick dark lashes that made his mood impossible to gauge. Not that it mattered. She was here about her feelings, not his.
‘You are eyeing me off because Gilles asked you, too, no?’ She knew she’d mixed up her words—her English was always clumsy when she was agitated.
‘I think the term you’re looking for is watching over you.’
Amusement laced his tone and her spine stiffened in annoyance.
‘I don’t need watching.’
‘I thought all women liked to be watched. Isn’t that why you wrap yourselves up in those slinky dresses?’ His drink swayed as he made an up-and-down motion with his hand.
Ava glanced down at her strapless jade-green gown, which was fitted to the waist and then fell to the floor in silky waves. ‘My dress is elegant, not slinky.’
‘Why don’t we agree on elegantly slinky, for argument’s sake?’
He was smooth, this handsome Australian, very smooth. ‘I do not need babysitting,’ Ava said, reminding herself that she had not approached him to flirt with him.
