Page 9 of Kyle
He had chosen the restaurant because of its intimacy and the fact that a friend owned it. They could eat in peace, and he could tell her the unwelcome news.
He had arrived early to try and settle himself and somehow find the right words.
His hands fisted on the checkered tablecloth as he fought to control his temper and anguish. The trap was closing in and that woman was going on as if it was business as usual. Apparently she had accepted the terms. Ingrid Ryder was determined to keep her position in the company, even if it meant shackling herself with a man who had only contempt for her.
Pushing back his chair, he rose and did not have to force a smile as Carly glided into the dimly lit room. She was wearing a purple wool dress that clung to her delicate curves. The maitre d', obviously besotted, took her jacket, blushing a vivid red when she turned her trademark smile on the hapless man.
"I see you're still turning the male population inside out." Taking her hands, he lifted them to his lips, blue eyes twinkling. Her heady scent wafted around them, and her smile warmed his troubled heart. He liked to believe he was in love with her.
"It's what I do." She leaned in to kiss him on the lips before gracefully sliding into her place. "Love the ambience." She murmured, staring at him beneath lowered lashes.
"I wanted privacy. What are you having?" He signaled to the hovering waiter.
"Everything. I recommend the lobster Lorraine."
"Then that's what we'll have." Picking up her glass of water, she studied his handsome face and felt her heart quickening. He was good for her, she mused. She knew of his reputation as a womanizer, but that did not bother her. After all, she had had her fair share of men and was ready to take the plunge. She was a little concerned that his exalted family would not approve of her, but she had ways around it. "How have you been?"
"I've been better." He picked up his utensils, his movements restless. They had not seen each other in a week because she had had to fly to Antigua for a photoshoot.
"What's wrong?"
This time the smile was forced. "I would like us to have the meal before I commence. Tell me about Antigua."
Following his lead, she dove into an interesting and witty monologue about her trip. Within minutes, she had him laughing at the antics of some of the natives. Their meals had arrived, and they lapsed into silence as they enjoyed it.
Declining the rich chocolate parfait, they settled for coffee instead. "I received a proposal of marriage."
His heart bumped against his ribs at the mention of the subject he was about to broach.
"Oh?" Taking a sip of his coffee, he gazed at her. "Anyone I know?"
"A wealthy Antiguan gentleman." Her eyes laughed at him. "I told him I was spoken for. Am I spoken for darling?"
Now was the time to come clean. He had just opened his mouth to spill when someone across the room caught his attention. He must be seeing things, he thought viciously as he stared at the familiar face. The man with her whispered something in her ear and had her laughing. Even from where he was seated, he could see the dimples winking in her cheeks.
Her thick heavy coil of hair fell around her shoulders and the dress she had on clung to her generous curves. She appeared to be enjoying herself. Ingrid Ryder did not look like a woman who was feeling the pinch of the arrangement that had been forced on them.
He started to rise and march over there to have it out with her, when he remembered he had his own companion and the nasty bit of news to relate to her. He could not help but wonder if the man leaning across the table was her lover.
It didn't matter. He did not give a damn about her.
"Darling?" Carly's sultry voice drew him back from his troubled and angry thoughts. She was also tracking where his eyes had been. "Isn't that an associate of yours?"
Very soon, she's going to be my wife, he thought bitterly. It was time, he realized wearily. He had to tell her now.
Reaching for her delicate hands, he studied the elegant fingers and automatically massaged her knuckles. He knew she loved jewelry, and her favorite stones were diamonds and lapis lazuli. She always said they matched her eyes. She was wearing two exquisitely cut stones on her right hand and three more on the left.
"I'm sorry." He began.
A slight frown touched her brow. "About?"
"I'm getting married." It was said baldly. He wanted it out, because it felt as if the words were choking him.
"I'm sorry, what?" Her fingers jerked in his as she stared at him. "I don't understand."
He gripped her fingers and wished he was anywhere else. "My family." He cleared his throat. "My grandfather made an arrangement." He swallowed the lump in his throat. "I'm to be married in two weeks, on Thanksgiving Day."
She stared at him and for a minute thought if he was joking, if this was something to make her jealous, but he looked deadly serious. And miserable. She would appreciate that later on, but for now, what she felt was anger and despair. Her dream of becoming Mrs. Kyle McCreary going up in smoke.
