Baby for the Billionaire - By Maxine Sullivan Page 0,107
a place while we’re on honeymoon. Michael just felt he needed a few days to get over the shock of losing his woman, his home and his business in one shot.”
Victoria steeled herself against a sneaky twinge of sympathy. However hard a time he’d had, it was no reason to attack Suzy. “I’m sure he’ll recover.”
“Please be nice to him, Tory.” Suzy stretched her blue eyes wide. “I don’t want the wedding photos ruined because the maid of honor and best man have a fistfight.”
No sane woman could live with a jerk like him.
Telling himself that the dislike was mutual didn’t stop the maid of honor’s words from rankling as Connor marched across the car park tucked away behind the church hall. He came to a stop where Michael Mason rummaged in the trunk of a modest Toyota parked in the dark shade of two tall pines.
“That woman is a menace.” Connor dropped the basket filled with hymn books into the trunk next to the black rollaway bag.
The groom’s head came up, and the brown eyes of a man Connor met twice weekly for a killer game of squash grew cool as Michael said with deceptive mildness, “Suzy is going to be my wife, Connor. Watch what you say.”
Connor did a double take. “Wow. You’ve got it bad.” His mouth slanted as Michael tensed. “Steady on, I was talking about the maid of honor.”
“Victoria?” Michael slammed the trunk shut. “She’s been friends with Suzy for decades. In fact—”
The sudden gleam in Michael’s eyes had Connor bringing his hands up in front of him to ward off the inevitable. “Don’t go there—she’s not my type.”
The woman was way too opinionated.
Michael ignored the warning. “Maybe you need a change from blonds. In fact, Suzy and I thought she might be the perfect antidote to Dana.”
Fresh annoyance surged through Connor at the memory of overhearing Suzy telling her friend that he’d been dumped by his girlfriend. And the sympathy in her eyes when she’d said she understood why he was upset.
Upset? Hell, he wasn’t upset. He was damned mad.
Mad at Dana. Mad at Paul Harper. Mad at Michael for divulging a confidence. And mad at the irritating, interfering witch who’d forced an apology out of him.
Breathing deeply, he said, “I gather you told Suzy all about Dana?”
Michael extracted a set of car keys from his pants pocket and activated the remote to unlock the doors. “How could I not? She would’ve found out anyway.”
“My business partner and my girlfriend … and I was the last to know.” Connor tried to laugh as he went around to the passenger side. “Soap opera stuff, huh?”
The raw hurt and betrayal that two days earlier had scorched all the way to his soul resurfaced. He hated the thought of people picking over the details of his devastated life.
“What Paul did was unforgivable.” Michael’s mouth was firm as he settled in the seat beside Connor. “And Dana was more than your girlfriend. The woman’s been living with you for nearly two years. Hell, you even made her a director of Harper-North.”
How Connor regretted Wednesday’s drunken bout of self-pity. He’d been away, laying the groundwork to open Harper-North’s first Australian office. On his return from Sydney, Dana had hit him with the news that their relationship was over. She had a new lover—the man he’d gone to university with, the man he’d founded a business with. His best friend. His former best friend.
Connor had gone to Michael’s house, gotten drunk, and blurted it all out. Dumb.
“The whole world shifted on its axis in the three weeks I was gone.” Connor raked his hands through his hair. It needed a cut. The mundane thought steadied him. “Came back to find my life in uproar and you planning marriage.” He shook his head. “Crazy.”
“Not that crazy. I’ve know Suzy a while, even though we only started dating about a month ago.”
“A month?” Connor raised his brows. “After two years I didn’t know what kind of treachery Dana was capable of. You should’ve taken more time.”
“A month. A year. Two years. It’s not going to make a difference to how I feel about Suzy.”
“So what makes you so sure Suzy isn’t after a lifelong meal ticket?”
A chuckle filled the car. “Mate, I’m not the billionaire here. I don’t wear thousand-dollar suits—” Michael gave Connor’s Armani a mocking inspection “—drive a Maserati, or live in a marble mansion.”
“I don’t live there anymore.”
This week’s showdown came back to haunt Connor. Paul had already moved