"WHAT has made you so happy?" her aunt inquired, cocking her head assessingly as she watched Gina select precisely where to place a flamingo lily in the floral arrangement she was working on. "You sing, you hum, and your face is wreathed in smiles."
Gina grinned at her, brimming over with the wonderful pleasure of being desired by the man she desired. "Oh, I just feel life is looking up for me."
Her aunt arched an eyebrow. "Might it have something to do with Peter Owen?"
Gina sighed. "Has Mum been speculating with you?"
"Well, I know you're meeting with him this afternoon. And your brother, Danny, has just called to say he's on his way to pick up Marco."
"Danny's going to have a look at white-water rafting and he thought Marco would enjoy watching it, too," she quickly explained.
"Leaving you free..."
"It will be easier to talk business with Peter on my own. But that's all it is, Zia. Just talking."
"Ah..." She rolled her eyes expressively, "...who knows where it might lead. It's time you spread your wings, Gina."
Luckily, an incoming customer drew her aunt back to the showroom at the front of the shop, cutting short the personal conversation. Gina was discomforted by the obvious gossip sessions running hot within the family circle. Of course, Isabella Valeri King's interest in her had set the tongues wagging, then singing the duets with Peter Owen at the castle had added to the brew of speculation. Neither had anything to do with how she felt today... after last night with Alex.
Should this new involvement be mentioned now?
She still shied from giving out such a highly personal piece of information. Even though Alex's invitation for Sunday assured her he really did enjoy her company— beyond the bedroom—she wasn't sure how deeply the attraction went for him. What if she simply had a novelty value, given his disenchantment with false images? Was that phrase a pertinent link to his break-up with Michelle Banks?
The urge to keep this part of her life private remained strong. One afternoon and two nights of being together could hardly be a called a relationship, not in any decisive terms. Maybe after Sunday...
Danny arrived in his usual rush and cheerful hustle. He was so accustomed now to working with tourists, his professional manner overflowed into everything. He collected Marco from the backyard of the shop and carried him off on his shoulder, both of them whooping excitedly about going on an adventure.
For the rest of the morning a steady stream of customers kept Gina and her aunt busy. Orders came in for deliveries to the maternity ward at Calvary Hospital— Gina always liked doing those happy arrangements, giving new mothers pleasure—and she was occupied in the backroom choosing the flowers for them when her aunt came to the door with a shock announcement. "Alex King's fiancée wants you out front." Gina was stunned speechless.
"Michelle Banks, the fashion designer," her aunt prompted. "But..." She barely caught herself back from blurting out the
engagement was broken. Yet if Michelle was claiming... or maybe her aunt was assuming...
"Apparently Miss Banks attended the wedding at the castle on Saturday night," her aunt went on, "and wants to discuss songs with you for her own wedding over lunch." Her smile was lit with delight at her niece's sudden rise to fame. "Your voice is now in demand, Gina. Better get going."
"But..." she spluttered again, totally flummoxed by these further statements. Michelle's wedding was supposed to be off!
"Don't worry about the maternity deliveries. They can wait until you get back." Her aunt actually rounded her up, thrust her shoulder-bag into her hand, and gave her a push, urging, "You can't miss out on singing at a King wedding." Had Alex lied to her?
Her mind buzzing with heart-wrenching questions, Gina forced her legs to carry her towards a confrontation with the woman who shouldn't belong in Alex's life anymore, who shouldn't be calling herself his fiancée, nor planning a wedding with him.
Michelle Banks was idly glancing around the display arrangements designed to catch the eye of passers-by and hopefully draw them into the florist shop. Her highly polished beauty instantly put another knife into Gina's heart. She wore a silk slacksuit in a shimmering grey-green pattern that picked up the striking colour of her eyes, and her golden hair was piled on top of her head, drawing immediate attention to her long, swanlike neck and the classic bone structure of her face.
She bestowed a lofty, slightly patronising smile on Gina, making her feel lowly, despite her average height, and definitely common in her little lime green shift. "There you are!" she said, as though she'd had to go to tedious lengths to find her. She waved her left hand in an eloquent gesture of frustration as she added, "You disappeared from the ballroom before I could speak to you on Saturday night."
The glittering diamond engagement ring on her third finger was as mesmerising to Gina as the swaying head of a cobra. And just as deadly to the hopes she'd been nursing. Alex had taken her out of the ballroom. Alex had kissed her, made passionate love to her, had told her...but his ring was still on Michelle Banks' hand.
"Your employer informs me you're free to come to lunch and I'd very much like to discuss my wedding plans with you," Michelle went on, exuding supreme confidence in Gina's falling in with her wishes. "Shall we go?" She headed towards the door. "I understand there's quite a pleasant little coffee shop just along the street."
Michelle opened the door, pausing to give Gina a look of arrogant expectation. It made Gina want to dig her heels in and flout the other woman's preset plans, but the painful need to clear up the situation drove her forward. She caught a glittery satisfaction in Michelle's eyes as she stepped past her to the sidewalk outside and gritted her teeth against the surge of sickening hatred it evoked.
Alex couldn't love this woman, she argued fiercely.
False images.
Her frantic mind seized on the phrase he had spoken last night. Maybe he had let Michelle keep the ring when he'd broken the engagement.
Maybe...yet why had she come, talking about her wedding to him? Who was lying? For what purpose?
Michelle prattled on about the duets with Peter Owen as they walked along to the coffee shop. Gina barely heard a word, too consumed by turbulent emotions to concentrate on listening. Michelle selected a table in a corner and quickly commanded the attention of a waitress. She didn't bother looking at a menu, ordering a Caesar salad and black coffee for herself.
Gina found herself automatically ordering a cappuccino and a Foccacio melt—ham, tomato and cheese. It was doubtful she'd be able to eat a bite of it but that was irrelevant. This meeting with Michelle Banks wasn't about having lunch. The order simply got the waitress out of the way. The moment she moved off, Michelle dropped her social mask and floored Gina with a sly sardonic punch.
"I take it you and Alex are still hot for each other." Gina felt her jaw drop with shock.
Michelle sighed. "Good old lust. It does raise its wicked head now and then. I hope you're not getting yourself into some serious twist about it. It only ever runs a brief course."
"You know? About Alex and me?" Gina choked out, reeling from this revelation.
Michelle laughed, her eyes dancing with cynical amusement. "Of course I know, darling. It was perfectly obvious on Saturday night that Alex couldn't keep his hands off you. I don't really fancy him making love to me while he's thinking of someone else so I told him to go and get it out of his system with you."
Gina's stomach cramped. They had discussed her as an object of desire before Alex had come home, come to the nursery suite and...she felt sick. The sex that night hadn't been unplanned. It had been premeditated. Her mind jolted through the train of logic Michelle was spelling out.
"But...you expect him to come back to you," she managed to say with a semblance of calm consideration.
"Naturally. We have a great partnership going." Michelle shrugged off the infidelity as though it were nothing. "A bit of bed-hopping makes no difference to the more solid things we share."
"And do you...bed-hop...too?"
Another shrug. "If someone tasty comes along. Actually, Alex was well aware I fancied someone else on Saturday night and was a bit peeved because he was frustrated over not feeling right about taking you. Had some attack of conscience because you're his grandmother's protégée. I told him you were a grown woman and if you wanted him, why not satisfy each other?"