Fyre & Revenge (9 page)

But, and here
was the rub, did he want to? There was just something about Zette
that had him fascinated and, if she was in love with him… He
squashed the guilt that had been plaguing him most of the evening
again. She’d left him, all those years ago. He’d thought he’d loved
her, he’d worried about her, and she’d left him. She deserved
everything she got.

He finished his
drink and shook his head. “No, keep them. I’ll need them,” he said
firmly.

Logan just
shrugged, “Pity, she’s a pretty little thing. I might have a go
when you’re done.”

JJ didn’t move.
Couldn’t move for the rage that surged through him. Hot and
immediate it set his heart pounding, galvanizing his whole body.
The thought of someone else touching her, even a man he considered
as close as a brother, made his blood boil. She was
his,
no one else’s.

“Try it and
you’re a dead man,” he promised on a low growl, his teeth gritted
to restrain the urge to swing at his friend.

Logan chuckled,
“Green-eyed monster raising its ugly head there? You might want to
think on those papers again my friend. I’m off to circulate, that
cute blonde’s been giving me the eye all evening. Going to see if I
can’t get a little action of my own tonight. Later.”

* * *

“Thank you, I’m
sure we’ll be very happy together. If you’ll excuse me, I need to
catch someone before they leave…” Diplomatically, Zette extracted
herself from the group of guests who had somehow managed to corner
her between two tables, cooing over how nice the ceremony was.
Before long the subject had turned to how long she and JJ had known
each other and how short notice the wedding was. Which then lead to
meaningful glances at her stomach.

At that point
Zette had decided to make a swift exit, smiling graciously and
making a vague comment about them deciding not to wait anymore. She
didn’t want to let the cat out of the bag before she had a chance
to tell JJ.

Telling a man
you were carrying his baby, well that moment should be special. A
private moment between lovers. Just for the two of them as they
celebrated the wonderful news. It wasn’t something she wanted to
share.

She beat a
hasty retreat across the room, skirting the dance floor as she
headed for the door to the ladies. It was hot in the main hall with
so many people packed in and in her dress, which had seemed so
light early in the day was now starting to feel a little heavy and
cumbersome.

She sighed as
she reached the sanctuary of the ladies ‘powder room.’ Like most
establishments as big and luxurious as this, it was less a room and
more a whole suite of them. The toilets were tucked away out of
sight at the back of a large sitting room, as though their presence
wasn’t the primary reason for the room in the first place. Large
couches were scattered around the room, as well as chairs next to
the vanity counters so the guests wouldn’t have to, horror of
horrors, actually stand to sort out their makeup.

Zette shook her
head. When she’d started off in the music game, she’d often had to
change in the cramped confines of a toilet cubicle, very often the
men’s, performing contortions to hold the door shut as she
struggled into costume.

These cubicles
though, she was pleased to note, were a sight larger than those
years ago. Which was a good thing as she wasn’t sure she’d fit in
anything that small, not with this skirt on. As it was, she had to
sweep it all to one side and hold it in place as she shut the door.
Throwing the latch, she put the lid on the toilet down, sinking to
sit for a moment, fanning herself with her hand. It was just so
hot, possibly something to do with her pregnancy. She’d never been
this sensitive to the heat before.

“Of course, I
only give it a year…”

The door into
the powder room opened. There was a brief explosion of sound from
the reception before it closed and a voice, obviously
mid-conversation, layered over it.

“Lisa!! You
can’t say that! That’s awful, and at their wedding too!”

Out of sight in
the cubicle next door, Zette could practically hear the speaker
shrug as she closed the door, sliding the bolt home. “Why not? It’s
true. I saw the file in Logan Fyre’s office. They’ve already drawn
up the divorce papers.”

Zette went
cold, barely hearing the other woman’s gasp. “You’re kidding!
That’s awful! Oh my God, does she know?”

There was a
harsh laugh, the reply scathing. “I would think so, this is
probably all an elaborate publicity stunt. They’ll sell the story
to a magazine for millions, proclaim themselves madly in love and
in six months or so they’ll have an equally messy divorce. Celebs
like her do it all the time.”

Zette didn’t
hear the rest of the conversation, sat numbly in the locked
cubicle. Ice formed in her chest, spreading out through her limbs
and making movement impossible. Even if someone had yelled ‘fire’
at this point she’d have just sat there staring at the door in
front of her.

Her eyes
followed the grain of the wood absently, noticed the slight splodge
of paint where it had run when it was being painted. Her eyes
followed it; a tiny imperfection in the otherwise perfect paint job
which suddenly seemed more important to study than anything else in
the world.

JJ was
divorcing her. Not even married a day and he’d already planned to
divorce her. She drew a shuddering breath, feeling the hot prickle
of tears at the back of her eyes. Ruthlessly, she squashed them.
She would not break down, not yet and not here.

She knew better
than to play the denial game. It had been too good to be true,
everything had told her that but, like an idiot, she’d wanted to
believe it. She’d wanted to believe she could have her Prince
Charming. Her voice was bitter as she muttered, “Happy ever afters
are for fairy tales, always have been, always will be.”

The blonde had
abandoned him after one dance, returning to the side of a boyfriend
Logan hadn’t seen before. Not that a boyfriend bothered him overly
much, especially not this one. Small and skinny he had the ‘office
geek’ look about him. If he’d wanted to, Logan could easily have
taken the blonde off him. She’d been giving him the eye all
evening, covert little glances of interest. Obviously casting about
for something better than she had.

He wasn’t vain
about his appearance but he knew he looked good. Knew he was
attractive to the female sex and even some men. He suppressed a
shudder. That was all fine and dandy if you were that way inclined
but not for him thanks. He liked women,
really
liked
women, in all their infinite sizes and shapes.

Although he
could, he couldn’t be bothered to winkle the blonde from her
boyfriend.

What would it
get him other than another night’s meaningless sex? Perhaps great
sex but still. He was fed up with one night stands and…well, it
just
being sex. It was most guys’ dream but Logan was
getting tired of it, finding he needed something more. Something
more fulfilling.

He took another
deep swallow from the heavy whiskey tumbler, leaning against the
wall. He’d come out to the front of the hotel for some peace and
quiet and to think on the slippery slope JJ was on.

“Fucking
idiot,” he murmured into the still air, leaning his head back
against the rough stone as he thought. The plan was doomed to
failure of course. Zette would find out, women always did in the
end, and then JJ would be up shit creek not only without a paddle
but without a damn boat either. Even if JJ didn’t realise it, Logan
recognised the signs of a man in love. He was still in denial but
he had it bad. And he was heading into trouble with this plan.

Logan sighed,
and studied the stars. It was a clear summer night, so they were
out in force. Actually he’d not been joking when he’d said he’d
have a crack at Zette if and when JJ was done with her. She was
gorgeous and, from what he’d already seen of her, she had a
wonderful personality. He chuckled to himself. Who was he kidding?
The one woman he found interesting only had eyes for his best mate.
Bastard.

He watched idly
as a taxi pulled up to the front of the hotel, one of a steady
stream of vehicles that had been coming and going since he’d been
standing outside. The day guests were long gone now but the evening
guests were still arriving, even though the reception was in full
swing inside. The main door opened, a brief splash of sound from
inside intruding on the solitude of the night until it swung
shut.

Logan lifted
his head as a feminine step crunched over the gravel toward the
waiting taxi. He was a student of human nature, a ‘people watcher’
so to speak. There was a lot a person’s body language could tell
you and he believed in using any weapon he could get his hands on.
Even the sound of a person walking could tell you a lot about them.
Currently this set of footsteps was telling him the owner was
fairly small, female and pissed off. His eyes widened a little in
surprise as they settled on the owner of the footsteps.

Zette.

Worse, it was a
Zette devoid of the wedding dress and other bridal accessories and
getting into a taxi, looking very much like she was leaving her own
wedding reception. Minus the groom. He watched silently as she got
into the taxi, her pale face half covered by her hair as the door
closed and the vehicle moved away into the darkness.

But the glimpse
he got of her expression, the tortured look in her eyes, rocked
him. She really loved that insensitive bastard, it was written all
over her face. He watched as the tail lights of the taxi
disappeared off down the half mile drive and sighed. He pushed off
the wall. It was time to go and break the news.

* * *

JJ had already
noticed Zette’s absence by the time Logan appeared at his side,
trying to spot her through the crowds in the hall.

“Oh hey man.
Have you seen my wife anywhere?” he asked, feeling an absurd swell
of pride as he said that. Zette, his wife.

“Strange as it
might seem when she’s wearing a dress that size but I seem to have
lost her. No doubt she’s been cornered by a couple of these
piranhas someplace and needs rescuing,” he joked, indicating a
couple of the ‘showbiz’ guests they’d been forced to add to the
guest list.

The wedding
planner had warned them it was that or risk having them try and
sneak in anyway. So they’d been invited and frisked for both
recording devices and cameras, including camera phones, before
they’d been allowed past the door. So far they were pretty much
behaving themselves, although a few of the agents were eyeing both
JJ and Logan with a speculative eye as they stood together. JJ gave
them a hard stare, one that plainly said ‘don’t even think about
it’.

When Logan
didn’t reply he turned, a frown forming between his brows. One look
at the serious expression on the lawyer’s face brought him up
sharply, a cold knot forming in the middle of his broad chest. Deep
down, in that forgotten place where his heart was.

“What’s
happened?”

“You might want
to take this somewhere else,” Logan warned in a low voice, nodding
toward the door beside the bar. Beyond it was the corridor that led
to the hotel accommodation.

JJ didn’t
reply, just headed that way, his determined stride and expression
making the guests part in front of him. In his mind he ran over all
the deals they had in the works at the moment, wondering which one
of them had gone belly up this time. Christ, if it was the Sharm
el-Sheikh deal then he’d need to leave tonight to try and rescue
it. And Zette wasn’t going to like that, not at all. He ran his
hand through his hair as they stepped into the corridor, Logan
closing the door behind him carefully and shutting out the
noise.

“It’s the Sharm
deal isn’t it? What’s that pillock Reynolds gone and done now?” he
demanded. “I
knew
we should have sent someone else! He
just doesn’t have the balls for this type of work. How soon do we
leave?”

“It’s not the
Sharm deal,” Logan’s voice was low, his eyes unreadable.

“Then what is
it?” JJ’s voice echoed with confusion. What else could be so
important that Logan would drag him out of his own wedding
reception?

“It’s Zette.
She’s gone.”

“Gone? What do
you mean gone?”

“Gone as in
done a bunk, done a moonlight flit, buggared off…
Left
. I
just saw her getting in a taxi and, believe me, she didn’t look
like she was nipping out for more wine.” Logan said, his voice
colder than JJ had ever heard it.

He focused on
the other man, his heart lurching in his chest. A leap of panic
from an organ he thought long dead as fevered chills ran over his
skin.

“Left?” he
croaked, as though he couldn’t comprehend the word itself. But he
could, only too clearly. The reason he couldn’t spot Zette in the
hall became clear.
She
hadn’t
been
there.

“No, no. You’re
wrong. She wouldn’t have left…” He trailed off, already turning. He
shouldered the door to the stairs open, not wanting to waste time
waiting for the lift, and thundered the couple of flights up the
stairs heading for the bridal suite. His heart pounded as he all
but sprinted along the corridor, the keycard only just in the door
before he crashed through it.

Her wedding
dress was in a heap on the floor.

“No…” Pain
lanced through him. Sharp, immediate. Debilitating.

Barely aware of
what he was doing, he entered the room, picking up the discarded
gown and smoothing the crumpled fabric before draping it across the
chair. He’d known their marriage wasn’t forever, it wasn’t planned
to be forever. So why did it hurt so much?

He stood in the
middle of the room, running his hand through his hair in
distraction. He looked around, for once not sure what to do next
and floundering. JJ always had a plan, he was the decisive one, the
one who knew what he wanted and went all out to get it. But his
plans had never included what to do if your wife of less than
twelve hours walked out on you.