Sweet as Honey (The Seven Sisters) - By Caitlyn Robertson Page 0,22

whether she lived or died. In many ways, he knew it would have been easier for him if she had died, although the guilt would have been even worse then, probably bad enough to ruin any future relationships for him.

Now, though, she seemed calm, and when her gaze came back to him, her eyes danced with the playful humour that had kept him coming back to her so many times even though deep down he’d known she was bad news.

“So how’s it been?” she asked.

He stirred his coffee, which he hadn’t yet touched. “Good.” He lifted the cup, blew on the coffee, then returned it to the saucer untouched. It was no good—he couldn’t do this, acting like nothing had happened. “What are you doing here?”

“Visiting Laura,” she said.

He searched his brain—her cousin? “And while you’re here you thought you’d look me up?” He couldn’t remove the cynicism from his voice that she happened to be visiting the week before the wedding.

She tipped her head. “Is that so unlikely? I haven’t seen you for an awfully long time, Dexy. I know we didn’t end well. I just wanted to say hi.”

He shuddered at her nickname for him, remembering how she would whisper it in his ear while they had sex. He shook his head as if he could rattle the memory out of his head, but it lodged in there like a tick in a dog’s fur. “‘We didn’t end well’ is the understatement of the year,” he snapped. “You told me you were pregnant to get me to marry you.”

“I thought I was,” she mumbled.

He said nothing, knowing she was lying. Out of guilt, her friend had told him the day of the wedding that Cathryn had admitted to her that she’d faked the pregnancy to get him up the aisle. No doubt a few days after she had a ring on her finger, she’d have faked a miscarriage as well.

Nausea rose inside him. He didn’t want to think about it.

“I’m getting married,” he said.

She smiled. “I know. I’m pleased for you, sweetie.”

He didn’t believe that for one minute. “Oh really?”

She shrugged. “It’s been two years. I’ve moved on too, you know.”

He wondered who she’d got her claws into now. Some poor sap who had no idea what he was getting himself into. But for the first time some of the stiffness faded from his spine. Maybe she was telling the truth—maybe she really was just visiting the area.

“Who is she?” Cathryn asked.

Dex hesitated. He didn’t want to talk about Honey, not with his ex. He looked at his watch. “I really need to go.”

“Does she make you happy?” Cathryn whispered. “I know you never believed it, but that’s all I ever wanted.”

“Yes, she does make me happy.” His voice could have cut steel.

An impish look crossed her face. “Is she good in bed? Only I know how important that is to you.”

“We haven’t…” The words were out before he could stop them, and he bit his tongue, cursing himself inwardly, sure she would start laughing. But her face registered curiosity and interest rather than amusement.

“You haven’t slept together?”

He pushed the full coffee cup away. “We’re waiting until we’re married.”

Something crossed her face, gone too soon for him to catch. “How romantic.”

“I thought so.”

She leaned forward, resting her arms on the table. The movement pushed up her breasts, showing a generous amount of cleavage above the low cut top. Was she aware? Of course she was, he decided. Cathryn had been very conscious of body language and had always utilised it to her advantage.

He forced himself to keep his eyes on hers and not to glance down.

“How long have you been dating?” she asked.

“Just over six months,” he admitted reluctantly.

She studied him with something akin to pity. “So you haven’t had sex for six months?” That made her smile. “Good grief. I can’t imagine you going without sex for a week, let alone that long.”

“It’s surprising what you can do when you’re in love,” he said, meaning to sound noble, but to his ears it sounded childish.

“So you have no idea what she’s going to be like in bed.” Cathryn moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. Against his will, his gaze was drawn to them, painted in a deep red, his favourite colour. Honey never wore it, preferring a subtler pink gloss, and he’d never asked her to, but Cathryn had worn it all the time. Her lips curved a little as she noticed his eyes