Girl Behind the Scandalous Reputation (15 page)

‘Why?’

‘Because I’m not ready to get married, and even if I was Lily is not one of us. Now, if you don’t mind, I have to start my day.’

Jordana didn’t move from where she’d stood in front of him. ‘That’s very snobbish of you.’

‘You can look at it any way you want, but I have responsibilities to uphold—and if there’s one thing I’ve learned from our parents it’s that love fades. You might want to believe in for ever after but believe me that’s the exception, not the rule. I have no intention of falling into Father’s trap and marrying a woman who might or might not be looking for an entrance into our society. One who will run away when she finds out there’s a lot more to the title of Duchess than champagne and shopping.’

‘Lily’s not like that,’ Jordana protested.

Yeah, he knew that. But he needed to tell his sister something to get her off his back, and if he told her that what he felt for Lily scared the life out of him she’d want to wrap her arms around him and kiss him better.

Anyway, he enjoyed his freedom. He liked having sex with a variety of women and he liked his life the way it was. Didn’t he?

Tristan shook away the disquieting question. ‘I don’t care. I don’t need love and I don’t love Lily Wild. She’s special to you—not to me. Personally, I can’t wait until this damn drug case is over and I can get on with my life again. And the sooner you get that through your head the happier I’ll be. Here.’ The tea tray clattered as he shoved it at Jordana’s chest. ‘Take this to her, will you? And tell her—tell her…’ He shook his head. ‘Tell her whatever you like.’

‘Can I tell her I think you’re afraid and letting the mistakes of our parents get in the way of your own happiness?’ she asked softly.

Tristan cut her a withering glance and stalked out of the room.

His sister had always been a child with stars in her eyes.

It was why he and his father had protected her so much after their mother had died. She was too dreamy and too easily led. He remembered how he and his father had thought Lily would lead her astray.

Only she hadn’t. Lily had actually tried to protect her.

He gritted his teeth. Lily hadn’t turned out to be at all what he had expected.

He marched out of the kitchen and took the stairs two at a time as he sought refuge in his own suite of rooms.

Lily wasn’t trouble waiting to happen. She was beautiful inside and out. He should never have slept with her again last night. It had been hard enough getting her out of his head six years ago, after one innocent kiss, and he doubted he’d be able to get her out of his mind as quickly this time when she left the Abbey.

Left the Abbey? He braced his hands against the sink in his bathroom and stared at his dishevelled reflection, wondering why that thought filled him with dread.

Because he wasn’t finished with her, that was why. And by the look in her eyes this morning she wasn’t finished with him either. They had started something last night—nothing permanent, but something definitely worth pursuing for as long as it lasted.

Jo had just panicked him before. Made him think this was more than it really was. But Lily herself wasn’t interested in relationships and for ever after. Hadn’t she said as much at Élan the other night? So what was he so het-up about? He didn’t have to end things so abruptly; he could just let them run their natural course.

Lily pressed herself back against the hallway wall as Tristan stormed out of the kitchen, her hands against her chest as if that would make her thin enough to be invisible.

But he didn’t see her anyway. He was in too much of a rage.

She let her head gently fall back against the wall.

It wasn’t a cliché that eavesdroppers rarely heard anything
good about themselves, and Lily was still trying to register exactly what she
had
heard. Something about her not being special. Not being one of them. That he didn’t love her and couldn’t wait for her case to be over so he could get his life back.

Jordana had said something after that, but her softer tones hadn’t carried quite so clearly.

Lily felt the methodical beat of her heart as her thoughts coalesced.

She supposed she now wasn’t left in any doubt as to how he had felt this morning. That frown had been real and the kiss he’d given her had not. What had it been, then? Pity?

Lily reeled sideways and then righted herself. She wished she could go back ten minutes and reverse her decision to come downstairs looking for him.

Or did she? Wasn’t she better off knowing how he really felt? Better off knowing that if she’d jumped into his arms as she’d wanted to do she would have just embarrassed them both? Wasn’t this part of facing her fears?

A shiver of misery snaked down her spine and she blinked to clear her vision. She heard a rattling sound from the kitchen, and then voices, and quickly turned to sprint up the staircase before Jordana headed out to deliver her tea.

She made it to her room unseen and leaned back against the door, her breathing laboured and her stomach churning. Tristan’s angry words were parroting through her brain like a DVD on repeat mode. He didn’t love her. Didn’t want to love her and never would love her. And, worst of all, she wasn’t good enough for him.

She blinked. The shower. She would jump in the shower so that Jordana didn’t see how upset she was.

In all honesty she hadn’t expected that Tristan would wake up in love with her, but did he seriously think she was interested in his
title
?

Right now she’d like to tell him where he could stick it—only then she’d have to admit she’d overheard his conversation
with Jo and she couldn’t go there. Not without breaking down altogether.

Like her mother used to do over Johnny. Her mother had always turned to alcohol when Johnny had turned to his groupies, and where once Lily had looked back in anger at her mother she now looked back in pity. Because finally she truly understood what it felt like to fall in love with a man who didn’t love you in return.

Lily felt as if she had a claw stuck in her throat as she let the hot water beat down over her face. As much as she might understand her mother a little better now, she also realised that she truly wasn’t anything like her. She was her own person, and she wouldn’t cling to Tristan, or rant or beg. She’d hold her head up high, tell him it had been great, and walk away.

Oh, Lord. She sucked in a deep breath and felt tears form behind her eyes. She remembered the moment she’d found her parents had died, the moment her uncle had said he couldn’t take her, the moment her mother’s best friend said she couldn’t take her, the moment Frank had sent her to boarding school because she didn’t want to appear on his TV show any more, and the moment six years ago when Tristan had sent her away.

But none of that had felt anywhere near as painful as hearing Tristan say he didn’t love her, and it was only Jordana calling her name from the other room that prevented her from sliding to the floor and dissolving into a puddle of misery.

W
HERE
the hell was she?

Tristan scowled as he leaned against one of the ornate oak sideboards in the main drawing room, sipping an aperitif and talking with one of Oliver’s cousins while awaiting the remaining guests for the rehearsal dinner.

A waiter discreetly circulated amongst those already present, and Tristan glanced through the open double doors to where a lavish dining setting, resplendent with antique crystalware, awaited twenty-four of Jordana and Oliver’s close friends and family for the rehearsal dinner.

From what he could tell the room was empty of everyone other than waiting staff. Which meant that Lily wasn’t down yet.

Tristan knew he should have been in a better mood, given that his baby sister was marrying one of his oldest friends the following day, but he wasn’t. After his run in with Jordana this morning his day had gone from bad to worse.

He’d been off his game during polo from the start, and then Oliver had informed him that Jordana’s ‘surprise’ for Lily was to set her up with all three of his single cousins!

Tristan had left the field immediately after that and discreetly cornered Jordana, telling her in no uncertain terms to rearrange the evening’s place settings so that Lily sat beside him. Only she’d floored him by telling him that Lily had already asked that the place settings remain as they were.

Then she’d apologised for her earlier behaviour. ‘Lily set me
straight this morning,’ she’d said. ‘She told me she was just taking my advice and “cutting loose” by having a harmless fling with you, and that it was now well and truly finished.’ Which had been news to him. ‘I was just a bit carried away by the excitement of my wedding. I’m truly sorry to have teased you the way I did.’

Tristan had reassured her it was fine, but really he hadn’t heard much after ‘harmless fling’ and ‘cutting loose’. His memories of last night certainly did not fit under either one of those banners! And as for things being finished…

Did that mean Lily actually
wanted
to be set up with one of Oliver’s cousins? This mountain of a man he was currently attempting to converse with, perhaps? Tristan hoped not, because objectively speaking he was an attractive devil. If Lily went for brawny males—and she had certainly been admiring his own muscles last night—then Hamish Blackstone would be right up her alley.

He scoured the room again for Lily and tried to clear the scowl off his face. Where was she? Avoiding him?

He’d deliberately stayed away from her all day to give her a chance to do girlie stuff with Jordana, convincing himself that the last thing either woman wanted was a male hanging around. But really, if he was honest, he’d been upset to find Lily constantly in his thoughts, and after their unbelievable lovemaking last night he’d needed time to think.

And what he’d thought was that there was no way she was getting it on with one of Oliver’s cousins this weekend. Or the next, for that matter, and…Where on earth
was
she?

He was just about to go in search of her when the hair stood up on the back of his neck and he knew she’d arrived.

He turned to see her poised to enter the room from the single side door leading in from the south corridor and his heart stopped. For maybe a minute.

Not enough time to kill him, but long enough that it had to beat triple time to oxygenate his brain again.

George Bernard Shaw was meant to have said, ‘Beauty is
all very well at first sight; but who ever looks at it when it has been in the house three days?’ Tristan could safely answer that he did! If anything, as he looked at her standing in the doorway wearing a powder-blue Grecian-style gown that left her arms and décolletage bare, with her glorious hair upswept, he didn’t think he’d ever seen a more divine creature. And by the intake of breath of his drinking companion
he
hadn’t either.

‘That’s Lily Wild,’ Hamish Blackstone announced under his breath.

Tristan grunted and waited for Lily to make eye contact with him. But she didn’t. Instead she stepped straight up to a group of women that included the bridesmaids and Oliver’s mother, looking relaxed and composed and every inch the movie star that she was.

‘She’s taken,’ he found himself telling Hamish.

‘You’re joshing me?’ the Scot spluttered. ‘Jordana said she was single. Who’s the lucky guy? I’ll deck him.’

Tristan looked him up and down and thought he just might with those tree trunk arms. ‘Excuse me. I need to mingle.’

He needed to talk to her, that was what he needed to do, and he didn’t care who knew it. She couldn’t just ignore him after last night.

‘Cutting loose’ be damned!

Lily smiled politely and answered questions about acting and America and everything else in between.

When she had first walked into the drawing room she’d sensed Tristan’s presence and deliberately hadn’t looked for him. She didn’t want to see him. She had her pride, and she’d decided earlier that she wasn’t going to collapse as she had wanted to do in the shower. That had been shock, and she’d had all day to steel herself against seeing him again.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so hard.

He hadn’t tried to see her once throughout the day, and since Jordana had set up a mini-beauty salon upstairs in her wing of
the house she hadn’t had time to see him either. Not that she’d wanted to.

What she was secretly hoping was that he would be glad she was keeping her distance and not make a big deal of it. He might even be happy about it. The last thing a man like Tristan Garrett wanted was a woman to go all starry-eyed over him. Or, even worse, over his precious title!

Which reminded her of how Jordana had said that Tristan was to be partnered with Lady Amanda Sutton at the wedding. A woman Lily had met at lunch earlier that day, who was charming, titled, and completely enamoured of Jordana’s brother. Something Tristan hadn’t told her about last night while he’d been making love to
her
!

‘What was that, dear?’

‘Nothing.’ Lily smiled pleasantly at Oliver’s mother from behind her champagne flute.

Lily let her anger at Tristan’s subterfuge course through her. Maybe it was illogical, and maybe even a little unfair seeing as how he wasn’t actually dating Amanda Sutton but Lily didn’t care. She didn’t feel logical right now. Or fair. She felt hurt and stupid and…empty.

Tristan had been magnificent last night. Strong, gentle, masterful, funny—every woman’s ideal man come to life. Only he wasn’t…or at least he wasn’t
her
ideal man. Not that her body seemed to be getting that message. Even now it yearned for her to turn, seek him out, as if he was truly hers to touch and talk with. To laugh with and…

Oh, stop mooning, Lily!

It was time to smile and behave like the perfect maid of honour during the evening’s festivities, and to do that she’d clearly have to make sure that any interactions she had with Tristan were later rather than sooner.

Which, okay, wasn’t exactly facing her fears head-on—but one step at a time. Come Sunday she’d fly home and lick her wounds. Regroup. Forget Tristan Garrett.

‘Lady Grove, Sarah, Talia.’ Tristan’s deep voice resonated
directly behind her. ‘Do you mind if I borrow the maid of honour for a moment?’

‘Of course not,’ Lady Grove murmured. ‘I’m sure you both have final touches to go over before tomorrow.’

‘Absolutely.’ Tristan smiled. ‘Lily?’

Okay, so sooner was probably a good thing. It would mean she could relax for the rest of the night. Or not, she thought as she turned towards Tristan and saw him dressed in a black tuxedo.

Oh, Lord, but he was sublime. And he’d had his hair cut. The mid-length layers framed his masculine features to perfection.

Lily couldn’t suppress a shiver of awareness as he took her arm and led her across the polished marble floor to a far corner of the room. Fixing a pleasant smile on her face, she subtly broke free of his hold.

At least this was one scenario she’d had time to plan for.
No tears, no tantrums
, she reminded herself. No matter how much she felt as if she was falling apart inside.

She lifted her glass to her lips and glanced around the room at the other guests, as if she didn’t have a care in the world. But Tristan squared off in front of her, his broad shoulders effectively blocking her view and giving her nowhere else to look but directly at him.

‘If you think you’re sitting next to Hamish Blackstone tonight you’ve got another thing coming,’ he ground out between clenched teeth.

Lily blinked, wide-eyed at his fervent tone. She had no idea what he was talking about.

Tristan knew he had surprised Lily with the dark vehemence in his voice. Hell, he’d shocked himself.

He’d known as soon as he’d laid eyes on her that she was miffed, and he planned to find out what was bothering her and fix it.

He’d thought maybe she was upset that he hadn’t brought her
tea up this morning. Or hadn’t sought her out during the day. Both theories he’d have put money on, but now he knew she’d taken umbrage at his tone as well, and logically he couldn’t blame her.

‘Excuse me?’ she said with icy disdain.

Yep, she was definitely annoyed with him.

‘You heard.’ No way was he backing down now. She had to know she wasn’t sitting next to anyone but him tonight.

‘But maybe
you
didn’t,’ she said stiffly. ‘I’m no longer under your protective custody any more. You’re free to get on with your own life. Get on with Lady Sutton.’

Tristan’s eyes narrowed. ‘What does Amanda have to do with this?’

‘She’s your guest at the wedding.’

Tristan shoved his hands in his pockets and relaxed back on his heels. She was jealous. Hell, he hadn’t even come up with that one. He’d quite forgotten he’d agreed to partner Amanda at the wedding.

‘She’s no threat to you. She’s just a family friend, and she isn’t really my guest.’

Lily gave a derisive laugh. ‘I’m not threatened.’ She tilted her champagne flute towards the light and watched the bubbles fizz. ‘But the local grapevine says she wants to be a lot
more
than just a family friend, and she does have the correct
lineage
.’

Tristan frowned. As if he cared about Amanda’s lineage…‘Forget Amanda. She’s irrelevant.’

‘She’d no doubt be upset to hear you say that.’

Tristan frowned. This conversation was not going at all as he’d planned. He declined a glass of champagne as a passing waiter stopped, and determinedly turned his back on an Italian count he’d befriended at Harvard.

‘I’d like to thank you for your help in solving my case,’ she said politely.

‘It was nothing.’ Tristan waved away her gratitude.

‘Still, I’d like to pay you for your services and—’

‘
Pay
me!’ Tristan thundered, halting her mid-sentence. ‘Don’t be absurd, Lily.’

She didn’t seem pleased with his response, but no way was she paying him for something he’d wanted to do for her—had
needed
to do for her.

His narrowed eyes lingered on her face. ‘Is this because I didn’t bring you your tea this morning?’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘Don’t play games, Lily. You know what I’m talking about.’

She raked him with her gaze and he felt as if she’d actually touched him.

‘Or are you upset because I didn’t try to see you today?’

‘Didn’t you? I didn’t notice.’ She smiled, her wide kohl-rimmed eyes staring at him as if she’d like to slice him in half, her glossy peach-coloured lips clamped together tightly.

He wondered incongruously how the gloss tasted and felt an overpowering need to prise those lips apart and sweep his tongue inside the warm haven of her mouth. At least then they’d be communicating a little better than they were now.

‘Look, I’m sorry. I would have but I thought you’d be—Damn, did I mark you?’ His eyes had drifted down over her neck to where a slight shadow marred her golden skin.

‘Er…no.’ She automatically lifted her hand to the exact spot he had been talking about. ‘I…scratched myself with the hairbrush.’

He didn’t even try to curb the grin that spread across his face.
Hairbrush, my foot
.

‘What’s wrong?’ he murmured softly, deciding it was time to cut to the chase.

She shrugged and glanced over his shoulder at the nearby guests. ‘Wrong? What could be wrong?’

‘I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking. But I’m not going to keep at it all night.’

That brought her eyes back to his. ‘Is that supposed to be a threat?’

Why couldn’t she just be happy he was willing to ask about
her feelings? He knew plenty of his friends who wouldn’t have been. Hell,
he
would never have even considered having this type of conversation before Lily. He would have moved on long ago.

So what’s different this time?

He couldn’t answer his own question and so pushed it aside.

He ran a hand through his hair and shifted the weight on his feet. ‘Lily, we had wild, uninhibited sex last night and now you can barely look at me. What’s wrong?’

She smoothed at an invisible smudge on her cheek. ‘I hardly think this is the place for that type of discussion.’

Tristan let out a frustrated breath. ‘I couldn’t agree more.’ He grabbed hold of her elbow and all but frog-marched her across the room, smiling pleasantly at the familiar faces milling around but avoiding all eye contact.

He reached the side door and drew Lily out into the family’s private corridor. She hadn’t made a fuss, but then he’d been counting on the fact that she wouldn’t.

He stopped beside a spindly hall table that was probably a thousand years old and turned, hands on hips, legs apart. ‘Now talk.’

Lily folded her arms across her chest. ‘Is this your usual approach after a night with a woman?’

‘Don’t push me, Lily.’

‘Ah—your favourite expression comes out to say hello.’

Tristan’s patience was wearing thin, and he knew she knew it. ‘What. Is. Wrong?’

‘What’s wrong? You’re behaving like an ape is what’s wrong. We had sex. What do you want—a reference?’

‘It wasn’t just sex,’ he denied.