Baby for the Billionaire - By Maxine Sullivan Page 0,110

right, either.

He was saved from the need to reply by Michael and Suzy’s emergence from the church, their faces alight with what even he could recognize was joy. Envy speared him. Then he suppressed it. He was done with love and romance … from now on his relationships would be based purely on sex. No emotion. No tenderness.

That way there would be no betrayal.

The bridal couple paused under the arched church door beneath a flurry of pink-and-white rose petals, and the photographer leapt into action.

The damn woman had been right.

Unbidden, his eyes landed on her. She was smiling, and Connor had to admit it transformed her face. At least she wasn’t gloating. His gaze lingered on her curved lips and he couldn’t help noticing that her mouth was very pretty when it wasn’t screwed up in disapproval.

“Connor, Victoria, over here!” called Suzy.

Victoria. Of course! “We’re being summoned.” He placed a hand under her elbow. Her skin was silky beneath his fingertips. Out of nowhere a totally unexpected surge of lust hit him. Perhaps the wedding reception wouldn’t be such an ordeal after all …

Suzy was beckoning impatiently. “Come on, we need a photo with the two of you.”

“I told you so,” muttered Victoria.

Connor shot her a look of dislike. Okay, so he’d been wrong on two counts. Firstly, the reception was going to be every bit as bad as he’d imagined and, secondly, she had been gloating. She’d simply concealed it under that sweetly deceptive smile.

All desire waned. It didn’t need Michael’s grin—nor the pointed look to Connor’s hand where it rested—for his hand to drop away from her arm.

The further he stayed away from Queen we-are-not-amused Victoria, the better.

On entering the ballroom, Connor discovered—much to his horror—that rather than the two of them flanking the bridal pair, he and Victoria had been seated beside each other.

“Give the two of you a chance to talk, seeing that all my attention will be on my bride,” Michael murmured sotto voce, holding a chair out for Suzy, who glanced up and gave Connor a little wave, her eyes glittering with mischief.

Irritation swarmed through Connor and he glared at the smug groom.

Connor survived the first round of speeches by ignoring Victoria completely, although if he’d been honest he’d have had to admit that the subtly seductive scent she wore didn’t make that easy. By the time he had to propose a toast to the bride and groom he’d downed three glasses of too-sweet wedding wine. When the first notes of the wedding waltz struck up he looked vainly around for a waiter to order a double whiskey.

“Come on,” an unwelcome voice beside him prompted. “We should join them.”

“I’m not dancing,” he said flatly, settling for another glass of sweet champagne with a grimace.

Her gaze landed on the glass and her straight eyebrows drew together in a frown. “Surely you’re not going to use Suzy and Michael’s wedding as an excuse to get drunk?”

Deliberately provocative, he raised the tulip-glass in a mocking toast. “I’m celebrating the love that you believe in.”

“Don’t be so flippant.” Her disapproval deepened. “This is the happiest day of Suzy and Michael’s life and you’re going to ruin it for them if you carry on. And all because you’re too busy feeling sorry for yourself.”

Connor blinked in disbelief. “What did you say?” He couldn’t have heard right. Everyone had been pussyfooting around the subject of Dana and Paul’s affair. Surely she wouldn’t dare …

Their eyes locked. Hers were more green than brown, flashing little flecks of gold. It wasn’t pity he read there but disdain.

He’d heard perfectly. And grew convinced this woman would dare anything.

Anger knotted in his chest.

“Snap out of it. Think of someone except yourself for a change. It’s only a couple more hours.” Her gaze dropped to the glass in front of him. “And I suggest you slow down on the alcohol.”

“I don’t know who you think you are—” he lowered his voice to a lethal rasp “—but you are way out of line.”

“I’m Victoria.” A grim smile accompanied the words. “In case you’ve forgotten, I’m the bride’s best friend—” she emphasized best “—but I don’t understand how Michael can call you a friend at all. I certainly haven’t seen you do anything to deserve it.”

Her words stung. He was on his feet before he could think. “I don’t have to listen to this!”

Startled dismay flitted across her face. She cast a quick glance to where the bride was nestled in the groom’s arms. Michael chose that