‘Darling.’ He ran a possessive hand up her arm in an intimate caress. ‘You’re a huge success. I’m so proud of you. Now you must come and be introduced to the Cabots. They’re eager to meet the future Mrs. Anthony Gould—’
‘Tony, the Whitneys just told me that you—’
‘Lower your voice, darling.’ A shadow of displeasure flickered over her fiancé’s patrician features. ‘Paula Whitney’s looking this way.’ Grasping her arm, with smoothly murmured apologies he wove a path through the crowd and out into the deserted hallway. This was the first party he’d put on at his penthouse condo since he’d had it redecorated, and Stephanie knew he wanted nothing to mar the occasion.
‘Now, darling—’ his lips were curved in a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes ‘—what exactly is the problem?’
Stephanie placed her champagne glass on the Louis XVI table by her side and took in a deep breath.
‘The Whitneys,’ she said, ‘have just told me they’re delighted we’ve accepted their invitation to spend Christmas week with them at Aspen.’
‘You’ve never been to the Whitneys’ ski lodge, darling. It’s old-world bijou—you’ll love it—’
‘Tony, we agreed weeks ago that we’d drive to Rockfield and spend the holidays with my folks. The Redford clan always get together for Christmas—it’s a family tradition.’
Tony took her left hand and held it, palm down, by her fingertips. He let his gaze linger for a long thoughtful moment on her lustrous sapphire ring before he responded.
‘Stephanie, rm going to be marrying you soon. You’ll be a Gould, and we’ll be making our own traditions. You’ll be moving in a different circle. My circle. My friends all like you, darling—the Laskers, the Gibsons, the Loebs...’
Stephanie drew her fingers free. Although Tony’s condo was electronically kept at a very comfortable temperature, the air seemed suddenly chilly. ‘You promised, Tony. My parents are looking forward to meeting you—’
‘Darling.’ Tony’s eyes had a coaxing glint. ‘I believed the Whitneys were planning to go abroad this year, and they were... but their arrangements fell through, so they’ve organized this ski party and it’s going to be a blast—’
‘I don’t want to go to Aspen.’ Stephanie met his gaze steadily. ‘I want to go home.’
The tension that had been sputtering between them exploded with an intensity that rocked her. Tony obviously felt it, too. His eyes became wary, a nerve ticked in his neck, directly above his bow tie...
And then, with an unexpectedness that totally threw her, he grinned. Cocking a teasing brow, he drew her into his arms. ‘Darling,’ he said ruefully, ‘are we having our first fight?’ Without giving her a chance to reply, he pulled her hard against him and kissed her.
After a brief moment of resistance, Stephanie exhaled a sigh and yielded. She did love him so, and the comfort and pressure of his body, along with the expert thoroughness of his kiss, swiftly dissipated her tension. Tony loved her, just as she loved him, and he’d sworn, when he proposed to her, that he’d devote his life to making her happy. He wouldn’t let her down. Not on this. It was too important.
She pulled back, and looked up at him with a tender smile. ‘We’ll go, then,’ she said softly, ‘to Rockfield?’
He released her abruptly. ‘Stephanie.’ Irritation emanated from his every pore. ‘Have you not been listening to what I’ve been saying? We’re going to Aspen. You know how important the Whitneys are to me. They were my first clients when I set up my law practice, and they are still my biggest clients—’
‘You’re missing the point.’ Stephanie threaded a shaky hand through the heavy mass of chocolate brown hair that tumbled around her shoulders. ‘A promise is a promise. You just have to tell the Whitneys we’d already made plans. They seem like nice people... they’ll understand.’
‘I’m going to Aspen, Stephanie, let me make that quite clear. You have a choice. You can spend Christmas in Vermont with your family, or you can spend it in Colorado with me.’
Stephanie stared at him disbelievingly. ‘A choice... or an ultimatum?’
Her fiancé lifted his shoulders in a deliberate shrug. ‘If that’s how you want to look at it.’
What other way could she look at it? Tony believed he was giving her a choice, but he was wrong. She had promised her parents she’d be home for the holidays.
Her fingers trembled as she slipped off her engagement ring. She held it out, in the palm of her hand, and the sapphire had never looked more beautiful. Tony stared at it, didn’t take it. He was obviously taken aback. It was probably the first time in his life, Stephanie reflected as she struggled to control her welling unhappiness, that anyone had ever said no to Anthony Howard Gould III.
Gold tinkled against wood as she dropped the ring on the side table. ‘I’ll go and gather up my things, then.’
‘You’re making a mistake, Stephanie. Don’t do this to me.’ For the first time, there was urgency in Tony’s voice. ‘What am I to tell the Whitneys? What am I to—’
Stephanie brushed past him, and made for his bedroom. She was thankful she was managing to control her tears; they would wait, she prayed, till she could get to her van.
Her blue canvas bag was lying half open on the burgundy duvet draped over Tony’s bed. In it she could see a fold of her black lace negligee...the filmy, outrageously expensive negligee she’d been planning to wear later tonight, when she and Tony, for the very first time—
Fiercely she rasped the bag’s zipper closed.
She shrugged on her calf-length red coat, tucked her evening purse into one of the pockets, slung the canvas bag’s strap over her shoulder and hurried out to the hallway again. Once there she paused, and then, hesitantly, looked back. Her heart gave a painful lurch when she saw that Tony was standing where she had left him. His face was as devoid of color as the snow blanketing the world outside. For a moment, she wavered—but just for a moment. She tightened her lips and pulled her coat around her, as if it were a shield. If Tony didn’t believe in keeping promises, they had no future together.
Tonight, he had revealed a side of himself she hadn’t known existed. A side she didn’t like. It must always have been there, though...only she had been too blinded by love to see it; blinded by love and—yes, she admitted with raw honesty—bedazzled by the wonder and sheer exhilaration of being courted by one of Boston’s most eligible bachelors. She should have known better, she thought with an unfamiliar feeling of bitterness, than to get mixed up with someone from the so-called ‘upper crust.’ She shook her head grimly. That was one mistake she would never make again.
Her high-heeled shoes made no sound on the plush carpet as she crossed the hall toward the private elevator; the only sound she could hear was the leaden thud-thud-thud of her heartbeat against her breastbone.
She stepped into the elevator, and didn’t look around till the door began to close. Then it took only a glance to tell her that Tony was no longer standing in the hallway. It was once again deserted.
He hadn’t even waited till she was gone, she realized sorrowfully, before going back to join the party.
‘Tony Gould is a jerk.’ Janey Martin flopped down on Stephanie’s bed and watched as her flatmate rammed gaily wrapped stuffed animals into an enormous orange plastic bag. ‘Aspen indeed! I just hope he breaks a leg skiing.’
Stephanie chose not to respond to her friend’s uncharitable remarks. Instead she muttered a triumphant ‘Gotcha!’ as she finally succeeded in tucking in the neck of a two-foot-high giraffe.
‘He’s not only a jerk—’ Janey’s speckled