it to you, if that’s all right. Thank you very much.’
‘It’s just a token,’ Sev said dismissively, coiling back into the corner.
Amy patted the necklace uncomfortably and dropped her hand uneasily again. A...token? A diamond necklace? She would’ve preferred to take it off again but there was a cool light in those stunning dark golden eyes of his and it made her wary. She would wear it for the evening and return it afterwards, she told herself. Sev was in the strangest mood, she acknowledged worriedly, wondering if he had had a bad day, a bad week, whatever, but she was reassured by the near sizzle that lit the air when their eyes collided. As the limo drew up at the airport, she froze in surprise.
‘We’re using a helicopter to get to the party,’ Sev explained as she looked at him in bewilderment. ‘I don’t like long drives and it would be an even longer drive home.’
‘Oh...’ she mumbled, climbing out into what felt like a phalanx of overprotective men as Sev’s security team converged to escort them into and through the airport at speed.
‘Where’s the party being held?’ she asked, breathlessly trying to keep up with Sev’s long, fluid stride. He was so tall as well, and looked even taller in the tailored black dinner jacket and long tailored trousers he wore.
‘A country house in Norfolk. Our hosts are Oliver and Cecily Lawson. He’s a businessman,’ Sev imparted almost curtly as a door into the VIP lounge was held wide for their entrance. ‘It’s a fancy-dress party but I don’t do fancy dress.’
‘Fancy dress?’ she repeated with a frown. ‘But why don’t you do it?’
‘My mother is also very fond of costume parties,’ Sev revealed with a biting edge to his dark drawl as they stood in the almost empty VIP room. ‘She dressed me up as a cartoon character when I was eight and I was groped by a pervert at one of her parties. So, I don’t do fancy dress any more.’
Amy stared up at him aghast, her attention locked to the carved perfect symmetry of his lean, darkly handsome features. ‘A pervert?’
‘A powerful politician...long dead now,’ he extended grudgingly between clenched teeth. ‘You look amazing, by the way, and there are very few, if any, women who could still look amazing under lights as bright as these.’
The abrupt change of subject startled her. ‘Thank you, but I’m more interested in what happened to the man after he—’
Sev elevated a cynical brow. ‘Nothing happened to him. My mother slapped my face and accused me of lying and I was sent back to school in disgrace.’
‘Oh, my goodness, Sev...what sort of a mother is she?’ she whispered in horror.
‘Not a caring one. Annabel is the only gold to be found in the dross of the Aiken clan,’ he told her grimly. ‘My father’s relatives are completely normal though.’
Only Amy remembered him telling her that he hadn’t got to know his father until he had grown up and all she could think then with pained compassion was that he must have been a very unhappy child. Her hand sought out his in a consoling squeeze that utterly took him aback, shocked dark eyes glittering down at her. ‘I’m so sorry you had to go through that experience without help...’
Sev saw actual tears of sympathy glistening in her extraordinary violet eyes and his lush black lashes fluttered down for a split second while he inwardly cursed his attack of oversharing and her extraordinary empathy. What the hell was the matter with him? Why did the barriers come down and the secrets come flooding out only with her? What was it about her? The way she looked at him? The softness of that breathy little voice or those incredible eyes? Why the hell had he told her about that frightening incident? Something that, after his mother’s reaction, he had never told to another living soul?
‘So, won’t we look odd not wearing fancy dress at the party?’ Amy prompted, considerate enough to recognise when a subject needed to be changed.
‘No, I’m rich enough to be forgiven for my idiosyncrasies and you could be dressed up as a fairy-tale princess in that gown. I did consider ordering a mask for you, but I didn’t want that beautiful face of yours hidden,’ Sev admitted, a little of the tension escaping his tall muscular frame.
He wanted the evening over, Oliver Lawson done and dusted and buried, staked like a vampire by his rich wife’s discovery