Not that any of that uncertainty showed in her expression as she sat down and turned back to the mirror to start removing the heavy make-up she had needed for the show, looking at his reflection enquiringly. ‘What did you think of this evening?’
He grimaced, making no move to come further into the room. ‘I have little experience of these things, but it looked okay to me.’ He shrugged dismissively.
She couldn’t help but smile at the predictability of his reply. ‘How have you been, Brice?’ she prompted lightly, dressed in her own clothes now, casual fitted denims and a bright red tee shirt, her hair loosely curling down the length of her spine.
‘How have I—?’ He broke off abruptly, taking a deep, controlling breath. ‘I’m sure you didn’t invite me back here to indulge in pleasantries,’ he rasped.
Sabina calmly continued the ritual of removing her make-up, hoping that Brice wouldn’t see the tell-tale shake of her hand just the sight of him produced. ‘And I’m equally sure you didn’t come here this evening to watch a fashion show,’ she returned as scathingly.
‘Oh? Then why am I here?’ he returned unhelpfully.
Sabina shrugged. ‘At a guess, I would say you wanted to see me to make certain that I will be at your grandfather’s dinner party next weekend,’ she drawled knowingly.
‘And will you?’ he challenged.
She swallowed down her disappointment as she realised she had been right about Brice’s reason for being here this evening. Part of her had hoped—
She should have known better. It had all been a game to Brice, the kisses, the flirtation. A dangerous game admittedly, but a game, nonetheless.
Her eyes flashed angrily as she looked at his reflection in the mirror. ‘I’m not sure I particularly like the fact that you believe I could ever hurt my mother by not being there,’ she bit out tautly.
He raised dark brows. ‘Does that mean you are going?’
She glared at him in the mirror. ‘Not that it’s any of your business—but, yes, I will be there,’ she told him dismissively. ‘Was that all?’ she challenged, more angry than she cared to admit at his lack of faith in her.
More disappointed than she cared to admit that this was his only reason for wanting to see her.
But what had she expected? That Brice would have missed her as much as she had him the last three weeks? That he had also hungered just for the sight and sound of her? As she had hungered for him…
‘No, it is not all!’ Brice rasped from behind her.
Very close behind her, she acknowledged a little shakily, Brice having moved swiftly across the room, now standing so close Sabina could feel the heat emanating from his body.
He looked about them impatiently, the room in complete chaos from her hurried changes in the second half of the fashion show. ‘Have you finished here now?’ he asked. ‘Or are you going on to the inevitable party that always seems to follow one of these things?’ he added scornfully.
‘Parties that I, invariably, choose not to attend,’ she reminded dryly.
He nodded abruptly. ‘Where’s the attentive Clive this evening?’ he rasped.
Truthfully, she had no idea. But she wasn’t about to tell Brice that… ‘Night off,’ she dismissed lightly.
‘Latham?’ he rasped harshly.
‘Still in Australia.’ As far as she knew.
He gave a mocking inclination of his head. ‘In that case, shall we go and have coffee together somewhere?’ he suggested huskily.
She looked at him with narrowed eyes. ‘What about Chloe?’
Brice shrugged. ‘She already left.’
Should she have coffee with him? Her life had changed dramatically during the last three weeks, although Brice could know nothing of that. No one knew. Not even her mother. And, for the moment, Sabina wanted it to remain that way.
But there was no reason, just because she and Brice had coffee together, that he should guess just how different her life was from the last time she had seen him. No reason whatsoever.
‘I know what happened to you last November, Sabina.’
The words, for all that they were softly spoken, sliced through the atmosphere like a knife, Sabina turning sharply to look up at Brice. Yes, she could see by the compassion in that emerald-green gaze that he did know.
The last thing she wanted from Brice was his pity—now, or ever!
‘So what?’ She shrugged dismissively. ‘My mother told you, I suppose?’ she added disgustedly.
‘Only because I asked her,’ Brice defended.
‘And that makes it okay, does it?’ Sabina stood up abruptly, moving sharply away from him, shaking her head disgustedly as she did so.
He shrugged. ‘Your mother is a very honest and straightforward woman.’
‘And I’m not?’ She raised challenging brows.
‘I didn’t say that—’
‘What happened isn’t something I ever wanted to become public knowledge,’ she snapped impatiently. In fact she had gone to great pains to ensure that it didn’t.
‘And I’m not the public!’ Brice came back harshly. ‘In a few weeks’ time we’ll all be part of the same family!’
Sabina faced him tensely. ‘My mother marrying your grandfather does not make us “family”,’ she scorned dismissively.
His mouth tightened ominously. ‘It does in my book.’
‘That’s your prerogative,’ she returned heatedly.
She didn’t want to be related to this man. She loved him, ached to be with him all the time. The thought of them occasionally meeting at ‘family’ get-togethers sounded painful in the extreme. Especially as one day Brice was sure to arrive at one of those get-togethers with the woman he intended marrying!
‘Damn it, Sabina, I didn’t come here this evening to get into an argument with you in this hell-hole!’ Brice rasped, obviously at the end of his own patience too.
This ‘hell-hole’ was pure luxury compared to some of the conditions the other models had worked in this evening. Although she knew what Brice meant; it was an airless, windowless room, of very small proportions.
She gave the ghost of a smile. ‘Where did you intend getting into an argument with me, then?’ she returned mockingly. It was what they inevitably seemed to do whenever they met!
Brice didn’t return her smile, a nerve pulsing in the rigid line of his jaw. ‘Are you going to have coffee with me or not?’ he pushed forcefully.
‘I—’ She broke off her angry refusal. If she said no, the next time she saw Brice would be at the first of those family get-togethers next weekend. ‘I am,’ she stated firmly instead, having applied a lip gloss as her only make-up now, picking up her jacket in preparation for leaving.
Brice gave an impatient sigh. ‘Why couldn’t you have just said that in the first place?’ He reached out to take a light hold of her arm, as if he expected her to take flight in the other direction as soon as they were out of the room.
Sabina gave him a mocking smile. ‘I couldn’t make it that easy for you, Brice,’ she taunted.
He gave a disgusted shake of his head. ‘Believe me, I’ve never found anything about being around you easy, Sabina,’ he bit out grimly.
She gave him a searching look, wondering exactly what he meant by that remark. Or maybe she was just looking for something that wasn’t there. Wishful thinking.
‘Come on, then, Brice.’ She walked out into the hallway as he held the door open for her. ‘I have my car outside.’
He raised dark brows as they strolled towards the exit. ‘That’s new, isn’t it?’
‘Not at all, I’ve been driving for years,’ she told him off-handedly.
‘That isn’t exactly what I mean,’ Brice rasped impatiently.
Sabina had known exactly what he’d meant, knew he was referring to the fact that she was now driving herself again rather than being driven around by other people.
It was the least of the changes that had taken place in her life in the last three weeks…
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
‘THERE’S something different about you tonight,’ Brice murmured slowly as the two of them sat in the lounge of a leading London hotel, the tray of coffee they had ordered having already been placed on the table in front of Sabina.
Was that a wariness in her gaze as she looked up at him? Or was he imagining it? The look was so fleeting, before it was masked by a polite smile, that he really couldn’t be sure…
‘Is there?’ Sabina dismissed lightly, handing him the cup of black coffee he had asked for before sitting back in her chair to sip her own coffee. ‘I’m always a little hyper after a show, so perhaps that’s it?’ She shrugged.
‘Nice car,’ he commented lightly on the sporty powder-blue Mercedes she had driven here.
‘Thanks,’ she dismissed. ‘I’m actually enjoying driving in London again,’ she added happily.
She had changed, Brice mused frowningly as he registered that smile. That fear he had sensed in her from the first time he had seen her no longer seemed to be there. Although, of course, he now knew the reason it had been there in the first place…
‘Your mother really wasn’t breaking a confidence by talking to me, you know, Sabina,’ he sat forward to tell her huskily. ‘She believed—perhaps erroneously—that the two of us are friends,’ he added with a self-derisive grimace.