The dress she was wearing—one of only a few dresses she’d not sold yesterday—was a pale green, empire-line, halter-necked number with a low-cut draped bodice and a swishy skirt which finished just above her knee. More of a party dress than the kind of thing one wore to a snooty wedding. But she’d always liked it.
She hadn’t been going to wear jewellery, despite having not sold any yet. But Kara had talked her into donning the emerald and diamond set Alistair had presented her with on her twenty-first, which consisted of a pendant and two drop earrings.
‘This is a society wedding, sweetie,’ Kara had said somewhat impatiently. ‘If you’re not going to wear a more formal dress, then you have to at least wear some serious bling, not to mention decent shoes.’
The handmade Italian shoes Kara had produced for her to wear were extremely glamorous, a slender crisscross of exquisitely beaded straps somehow managing to anchor her feet to their very high heels. Stockings had been out of the question, so Nicole had sprayed her legs with some fake tan to match the natural tan she had acquired on her upper half in Thailand.
‘No sitting in a corner tonight,’ Kara said during the drive to the yacht club. ‘I want to see you up and dancing and having some fun.’
‘In these shoes?’
‘Shoes never stopped you in the past. And if a certain someone asks you to dance then you must promise me you won’t say no.’
‘You can be terribly bossy, do you know that?’
‘I do,’ Leyton interjected—though not unhappily.
‘Promise?’ Kara insisted.
Nicole didn’t have to promise any such thing. Because if Russell McClain asked her to dance, she knew she would not be able to say no. All she could hope was that he wouldn’t ask her.
Because there was something about the man which she didn’t trust—and she’d had enough of untrustworthy men.
‘OK,’ she said. ‘I promise.’
CHAPTER SEVEN
RUSSELL’S frustrated gaze was scanning the guest tables in search of feminine prey when his eyes landed on the very female who’d put him in this appalling state in the first place.
His heart lurched at the sight of her. So did something else.
Blast! What on earth was Nicole Power doing at James’s wedding?
His gaze shifted to the rest of the people at her table, but he didn’t recognise any of them. There again, he didn’t recognise most of the guests. Despite his wealth, he wasn’t a social animal. Not like James, or Hugh; they enjoyed entertaining and being entertained. Russell had had had other priorities up till now.
His need for revenge had consumed him.
Now something else was consuming him.
The more he stared at her, sitting there looking absolutely delicious in the sexiest green dress, the more he wanted her.
Had she seen him yet? he wondered.
She must have. He was in the main wedding party. Strange that he hadn’t spotted her before this. Perhaps she was deliberately avoiding him? He could well understand why: he’d been pretty obnoxious the other day.
Hugh suddenly leant over from the chair next to him.
‘I see you’re eyeing that hot-looking blonde over there,’ he said. ‘Presumably, you haven’t recognised her. That’s Nicole Power, your enemy’s daughter.’
‘Yes, I know.’
‘You know?’
‘Indeed I do.’
Hugh frowned. ‘Russ, you’re not going to take this revenge of yours too far, are you? I mean, she’s not to blame for what her father did.’
Up till this moment, Russell hadn’t thought of his attraction for Nicole Power as anything more than extremely annoying. The thought of using his unexpected and, up till now, unwanted passion as a weapon against his enemy had never occurred to him.
But, suddenly, the vengeful words he’d thrown at Alistair Power all those years ago took on an added meaning: he’d vowed to take everything his enemy held dear …
Clearly, Power held his daughter dear …
It was a wickedly tempting idea …
‘What do you know about her?’ Russell asked Hugh abruptly.
‘If you think I’m going to help you seduce that poor girl, then you have another think coming.’
‘She’s far from being poor, Hugh. I’ll warrant those are real diamonds and emeralds she’s wearing. And that dress has designer label written all over it. She might not be personally responsible for what her father did, but she’s never minded living off the proceeds.’
‘You don’t know that.’
‘Yeah, Hugh, I do. Now, tell me what you know about her.’
Hugh sighed. ‘She was briefly engaged to David Porter earlier this year.’
‘The stockbroker?’
‘Yep.’
‘What happened? Wasn’t he rich enough?’
Hugh shrugged, clearly not happy with giving him any information at all. ‘I have no idea. Porter’s not in my immediate social circle. But I’ve heard he’s a ladies’ man. Maybe she found out she wasn’t going to be his one and only.’
‘I doubt that.’ Russell could not conceive of any man being unfaithful to Nicole Power. If she were his, he wouldn’t let her out of his sight … he’d keep her chained to his bed.
‘When does the dancing begin?’ came his abrupt question.
‘Not for a while. First come the speeches, then the cutting of the cake, followed by the bridal waltz. After which, other people can join in.’
Russell’s smile was wry. ‘Sounds like you’ve been to a lot of weddings.’
‘My family and friends don’t seem to learn from experience. This is the second one for James as you will recall. Dear old Dad has had four more wives since my mother.’
‘Presumably I won’t ever have to go to yours, then.’
‘Not unless some alien takes possession of my body and forces me into it.’
‘What about this woman who won’t go to bed with you? You might be reduced to marrying her, just to get her in the sack.’
Hugh looked appalled. ‘Marry just for sex? You have to be joking. No man’s that desperate these days.’
Russell’s eyes went back to the object of his own desire.
He was a man and he wanted Nicole Power, quite desperately.
But Hugh was right. You didn’t marry a girl just for sex. But what about revenge? Did you marry a girl for that?
His conscience rebelled at the idea. But his dark side didn’t. It revelled in the thought of having his cake and eating it, too.
His eyes narrowed as they raked over the sheer perfection of her face, which was even more beautiful today. Of course, she was wearing make-up and her upswept hairdo had obviously been done by a professional. All in all, she was the epitome of feminine beauty: a fair-haired siren with a breathtaking allure which would tempt any man.
Russell was more than tempted.
His