The Frenchman's Love-Child - Page 39

The party took off like an express train and the best champagne flowed like a river in flood. Jake got a little over-excited at all the attention he was receiving and had to be reprimanded once or twice. Christien’s relatives were generally very much in the older age group and Tabby found them old-fashioned and formal but kindly and inclined to treat her son like a little prince in waiting. Christien had invited only a handful of close friends to the engagement celebration because it was being staged so close to the wedding. Tabby had only contrived to invite one guest of her own: Sean Wendell. Her aunt and her boyfriend were flying in just for the wedding before they travelled on to Australia but unfortunately Tabby’s friend, Pippa, was unable to leave her father to manage on his own.

Veronique Giraud staged her entrance when the party was in full swing. Tabby noticed the sudden silence that fell and she glanced up. She was dismayed by the other woman’s arrival for she had had no idea that the brunette had been invited. Sporting a stunning black and white evening gown, Veronique headed direct for Christien. As she crossed the floor she performed a couple of fluid teasing steps to the music and extended her hand to Christien. Striding to meet her, he accepted her invitation.

Tabby knew how to jive but had never learned how to do anything else. She had ignored Christien’s effort to persuade her that she could easily learn the steps because she had not wanted to risk making a fool of herself at their engagement party. The sight of Veronique smiling while she gracefully circled the floor in Christien’s arms sent a shard of angry envy and hurt darting through Tabby.

Indeed, just watching Veronique Tabby could feel herself regressing to the intimidated teenager she had been almost four years earlier. On the day that she was to fly back home with her widowed stepmother, she had hurried up to the Laroche villa to make a desperate last ditch attempt to see Christien before she had to leave France. After all, he had not called her, nor had he been answering his phone.

Veronique had come to the door in the wake of the manservant. ‘What do you want?’ she demanded rudely.

Tabby was shocked for, up until that point, the brunette had always been pleasant. She found herself asking if she could see Christien as if she was asking for Veronique’s permission to do so.

‘It’s over. Isn’t it time you accepted that you’ve been dumped? He doesn’t want to see you.’ Veronique dealt Tabby’s white drawn face and shadowed eyes a scornful scrutiny and her lip curled. ‘He th

inks he may have to change his mobile number to shake you off!’

At that confirmation that her calls had been received and that the other woman was as aware of that fact as she was of Christien’s evident determination to ignore those same calls, Tabby died a thousand deaths inside herself. Already sick with grief over her father’s demise and the appalling suffering of her bereaved friends, she was torn apart by the pain of Christien’s rejection for she had never needed him more than she needed him then. She turned to leave at that point but Veronique was the kind of female who specialised in kicking her victims even harder when they were already down.

‘Surely you didn’t believe that Christien Laroche would get serious with a cheap little scrubber like you? Do you believe in Santa Claus as well?’ Veronique sneered.

Tabby dragged herself out of the past and back into the present and threw back her slim shoulders. She was not a teenager any longer and in a day and a half she would be Christien’s wife. In those circumstances she could afford to overlook the brunette’s spiteful nature and be gracious. After all, whether she liked it or not, it looked as though Veronique was still firmly entrenched in the ranks of Christien’s friends and would have to be tolerated.

Some of the older guests were leaving and, having bid them goodnight, Christien was hailed by a friend. Tabby left him to it and returned to the ballroom alone. Veronique was coming towards her and Tabby felt pride demanded that she stay still long enough to acknowledge the other woman with a polite smile.

‘Oh, do let me see the ring Christien gave you!’ Veronique exclaimed with mocking insincerity.

‘I’m sure you’re not really interested,’ Tabby said uncomfortably, feeling horribly small and squat when she had to tip her head back to look up at the tall brunette.

‘But naturally I’m dying to make a comparison.’ The brunette extended a hand on which a large solitaire diamond glittered on her middle finger.

‘Sorry…a comparison?’ Tabby stared at her in confusion.

‘This is the ring I wore when I was engaged to Christien. Look closely at it, expect to see it back on my engagement finger again, because when you screw up as a wife he’ll divorce you and I’ll comfort him,’ Veronique forecast.

Tabby was paralysed to the spot. ‘When were you engaged to Christien?’

‘Right up until a little scrubber came out of nowhere clutching her bastard brat!’ the brunette advanced nastily. ‘It pays well to be fertile, doesn’t it?’

CHAPTER TEN

A LL the colour in Tabby’s face had faded away. Giddy with the force of her disturbed emotions, she turned on her heel and walked away from Veronique.

Veronique was lying. Of course, Christien couldn’t have been engaged when Tabby had come back into his life. Christien would have said so. Christien was always such a stickler for honesty. There was no way he could have been Veronique’s fiancé, no way on earth! Dry-mouthed and trembling, Tabby lifted a glass of champagne off a waiter’s tray and downed it in one.

She espied Christien out in the entrance hall and sped out there at the speed of light to catch him on his own before anyone else could intercept him. ‘Veronique just showed me her engagement ring-’

Christien vented what sounded like a French swear word. ‘I was planning to tell you after the wedding, ma belle.’

Tabby studied him in sick disbelief and took a step back from him. ‘You mean…it’s true? You were engaged to her? When did you and her split up?’

‘We’ll discuss this later in private,’ Christien decreed, distrusting the overwrought wobble in Tabby’s voice and the furious look of hurt and condemnation in her green eyes.

‘When did you break it off with her?’ Tabby snapped.

His lean, strong face clenched. ‘What I had with Veronique is not relevant to what I have with you.’

‘She just called me a scrubber for the second time in my life…and this time, thanks to you, I deserve it!’ Tabby accused, but her voice was shaking because her heart felt as if it were breaking up inside her.

‘Veronique called you a…what?’ Christien growled in raging disbelief. ‘You must have misheard her-’

Tags: Lynne Graham Billionaire Romance
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