Donald thanked everyone too, especially his beautiful wife. ‘I’d like to thank Zahid for all his help and for travelling so far to be here.’ Donald smiled a loaded smile. ‘You’ve been an excellent best man and I hope to return the favour when it is your turn to marry next year.’
Zahid’s jaw clamped down as Donald rambled on and he glanced over at Trinity. Her cheeks were red, an angry red, and she was dribbling salt on her sorbet.
He hadn’t wanted her to hear his news like that.
As Donald proposed a toast to the bridesmaids, Zahid watched as Trinity raised her glass...
But to a passing waiter.
Oh, Trinity.
He wanted to go over and halt her, to whisk her away, to explain that she had misunderstood.
It was the truth, though.
And this early in the evening the truth hurt them both.
Zahid duly stood and thanked the groom for his words on behalf of the bridesmaids, though privately he’d have liked to knock him out. Then he thanked everyone else that he had to and said all the things that a best man should, but then it came to the part where Donald should star, where this future king should demure and ensure that the groom shone.
‘Donald and I...’ Zahid glanced at his notes and then faltered, and Trinity looked up at the brief hesitation as Zahid silently recalled a teenage incident and saw it now through the eyes of a man.
They were your drugs.
He could see it so clearly now and yet here he stood, all these years later, paying the price for Donald’s supposed valour.
Well, no more.
‘Donald and I...’ Zahid resumed his speech but he was not looking at his notes now ‘...attended the same school and later were students at the same university.’ Trinity heard her father’s cough in an attempt to prompt Zahid, and she looked at her brother’s expectant face, but the glory never came. Zahid went on to recall a few antidotes and all in all it was a very nice speech—he just forgot to paint Donald as the hero in Zahid’s life.
False duty had been more than repaid.
And so to the dancing.
Zahid stood over Trinity, waiting for her to join him on the floor, but it was a touch more complicated than standing for Trinity, because her already tight shoes refused to go back on, but finally she forced her feet into them. ‘The things I do for my family,’ Trinity said, as he led her to the floor. ‘Not that they appreciate it.’
‘I am appreciative...’ Zahid said, as he loosely held her and they started to dance and she waited for him to finish his sentence.
He didn’t.
‘Of what?’ Trinity prompted. ‘You are appreciative of what?’
‘That you are here,’ Zahid said. ‘That we see each other again after all this time.’
They both knew it was running out for them and there was no tail wind to help them catch up, no buttons to push that could change things.
Except he pushed the right ones.
Zahid was the only man who did.
‘I loved your speech,’ Trinity said, her words a little stilted, for she was cross with Zahid for flirting when he was about to be wed. Yet she was cross only from the neck up. Her body had seemed to overlook the fact he would soon be marrying the very second that she was in his arms.
‘You’re the only one who liked it. Your father looks as if he wants to kill me.’
‘It’s me he’s shooting daggers at!’ Trinity looked to the right and smiled sweetly at her father. ‘I was late, you know?’
‘You were.’
‘And not looking out for my brother.’
Zahid looked down to those blue eyes again and wondered how much she knew, for he was sure that Donald was high. ‘Is it nice to see your brother happy?’
‘Donald wouldn’t know what happy was if it was hand delivered and he had to sign for it.’ She looked over at Donald, who was smiling and laughing to his bride. ‘He’s loaded,’ Trinity said. ‘Nothing changes.’
‘You?’ Zahid said.
‘I don’t go near anything like that.’
‘I meant,’ Zahid corrected himself, ‘are you happy?’
‘Not today,’ Trinity said, then it was she who corrected herself. ‘Actually, right now I am.’
‘Because?’
‘Because,’ Trinity said, because in his arms she actually was and, no, she should not be flirting, she had been called a tease so very many times when she was unable to follow through, but she just needed one lovely thing to focus on, just the teeniest bit of help to get through the night and, for good or bad, Zahid was it.
‘Because?’ he said into her ear, and it was then that she succumbed.
‘Because my brother has excellent taste in groomsmen.’
‘His bride has terrible taste in dresses.’
‘She does,’ Trinity sighed. ‘Though in fairness my mother would have lied about my measurements. She prefers me with an eating disorder, it makes her a more visible martyr...’
Trinity was, Zahid decided, rather wise.
‘I’m supposed to be singing later,’ Trinity said, and her hands moved up and linked behind his neck and, yes, they were back in the woods again. ‘As I said to my mother, my name isn’t Trinity Von Trapp.’ She went to explain, because he probably had no idea what she was talking about, but then she remembered a long-ago Christmas and Dianne forcing them to watch the Sound of Music and Trinity giggling at Zahid’s somewhat bemused expression.
More than that, though, somehow he got her—she did not have to explain everything to Zahid.
‘Rolfe might join you,’ he said into her ear, and though Zahid would no more sing than fly to the moon a smile played on her lips as she pulled her head back, just enough that her back arched in just a little and Zahid’s tongue rolled to his cheek as something else stirred to her words.
‘I prefer the captain.’
It was a tiny dirty dance, but with words. The heat from his palms was surely searing her dress and the way he simply let her be had her breathing freely for the first time since she could remember. With Zahid her body seemed to know how to work. He induced only pleasure and made it safe to be a touch wanton.
Then she remembered she was cross with him.
As the music ended, instead of sinking in for another dance, she pulled back.
‘I’d better go and see how Yvette is.’
‘I will check on the groom.’ He gave a small nod. ‘Perhaps later we dance...’
Trinity gave a tight smile as she walked off but she felt conflicted. No doubt Zahid thought her a party girl, no doubt he assumed where the night was leading.
He could never guess that she felt ill at the very thought of sex.
Only she didn’t feel ill in his arms.
Trinity wanted to get back to him, only Yvette was teary and she either had raging cystitis or her bladder was the size of a thimble or more likely she really was pregnant, because she wanted to go to the loo on the hour every hour and Trinity had to help with the dress.
‘Your brother...’ Yvette was trying to tame her angry cheeks with Trinity’s foundation. ‘I just got a call from the hotel—he hasn’t paid the reservation