Black Widow Bride by Tessa Radley

them.
    Why?
    Why had they fought all the time? Why had she insisted on challenging him? Telling him that he couldn’t marry Fliss? Provoking him by flaunting her body at him, demanding that he kiss her…and more? And why had he been unable to let the smallest challenge pass?
    He could remember wishing Rebecca would behave like Felicity, shy and in awe of him. Felicity had made a lovely bride. But even that memory was tarnished. Somehow he’d failed Felicity. She’d chosen to desert him. Had she known he’d failed her? That he’d betrayed her the night before he spoke his wedding vows?
    He’d expected Rebecca to put up a fight against his high-handed veto of the San Lorenzo. Or at least to argue. She’d clearly established a good business relationship with Andre in the past. Yet she’d given in to his demand with barely a murmur. He’d been grateful, silently grateful. How could he, Damon Asteriades, confess that he couldn’t bear the idea of celebrating his brother’s wedding on the site where his own disastrous marriage had been sealed? Of dancing amidst too many damned ghosts?
    Damon told himself he was tagging along to make sure she was fulfilling his mother’s brief for the wedding. But he knew it was more than that.
    The wanting, the dark desire, had him tied up in knots. And when he’d seen her struggling with the car, the opportunity had been too good to pass up. But he’d also been consumed by curiosity. He’d seen Rebecca the successful chocolate boutique owner, Rebecca the mother and Rebecca the kind friend to an ill older woman. He’d wanted to see more, to see all the facets that made up the enigmatic women who roused such strong responses in him.
    As he followed in her wake, Damon had to admit Rebecca was good at what she’d once earned a living doing. Never would he have thought of asking a tenth of the questions listed on her clipboard. Once, she pulled out her cell phone, rang his mother to check whether any wheelchair facilities would be needed and conveyed the negative reply back to their guide. She questioned. She smiled. And each time she laughed, the heat inside Damon grew and he wanted to taste that lush, laughing mouth. His. He pushed the disturbing thought aside and watched her jot a note down on a pad. She was focused, professional and totally in charge.
    The promise he’d made himself in the hospital car park reared up in his mind. He wanted her. All of her. And there was nothing to stop him having her.
    Rebecca finished off, arranging to come back to meet the chef who handled the catering, and Damon reached in his pocket for his car keys. “Well, that’s all for now,” she told the function manager. “When I return, I will bring the bride to see if the venue fits with her plans.”

    Rebecca was deep in thought when they returned to the Mercedes. Something bothered her about the yacht club. Something that she couldn’t quite put her finger on.
    “Time for lunch, I think.” Damon’s voice interrupted her thoughts.
    “Oh, I can’t keep you any longer.”
    “We both need to eat. And there is something I’ve been wanting to discuss with you. You’ve been very hard to find, Rebecca, these past couple of days. I might almost think you’ve been avoiding me.”
    “Avoiding you?” Her voice was high-pitched. “Why would I do that?”
    “If I knew, I wouldn’t have had to tag along all morning to get a chance to see you alone.”
    So he’d stayed because he had an agenda of his own. Rebecca’s pulse started to pound. “I don’t think—”
    “Don’t.” He held up a hand. “Don’t think. Just come and share a meal with me. One of my favourite restaurants is not very far from here. I’ll talk. You can listen and savour the food.” He gave a slight smile that relieved his usually harsh features.
    There’d be more to it than him talking, Rebecca suspected. A frisson slithered down her spine. Yet she was intrigued enough to want to see what kind of establishment he