Black Widow Bride. Tessa Radley

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      “Hey, brother, my turn to dance with the bride.”

      Startled by Savvas’s words, Rebecca surfaced from the numb place to which she’d retreated, a place where she felt nothing. No pain, no emotion. The sudden stop brought her back to the present, back to the ballroom. Savvas stepped away as the romantic melody faded.

      In front of her stood her nemesis, the man she knew she would never escape.

      Even in this dim light his blue gaze glittered. Only the bent blade of a nose that had clearly been broken more than once saved his face from the classic beauty his full mouth and impossibly high cheekbones promised. Instead it created a face filled with danger, utterly compelling and ruthlessly sensual. A modern-day pirate.

      Hastily she looked away, grabbing for her departing dance partner.

      “Savvas?”

      But Savvas was gone, spinning Fliss away, Fliss’s wedding dress fanning out against his legs. Feeling utterly alone, Rebecca waited, heart thudding with apprehension, refusing to look at Damon.

      “So, you are now trying to seduce my brother? Another crack at the Asteriades fortune, hmm?” Her head shot back at the cynical words. There was something dark and tumultuous in his eyes.

      He was angry?

      What about her?

      What gave him the right to judge her? He didn’t even know her—hadn’t had the slightest inclination to get to know her.

      “Go to hell,” she muttered through grimly smiling teeth and swung away.

      “Oh, no, Rebecca.” A hard hand caught her elbow. “It’s not going to be that easy. I’m not going to allow you to cause a scene and leave me standing alone on the dance floor. You’re not making a fool of me.”

      Rebecca tried to wrench free. The grip tightened. Big. Strong. Powerful. She didn’t have a hope of escaping Damon Asteriades. But the last thing in the world she wanted today was to be held in his arms, to dance with him.

      No.

      She must have said it aloud, because his mouth flattened as he twirled her around to face him.

      “Yes,” he hissed. His eyes had turned to flat, unforgiving cobalt chips. “You will dance with me.” His right hand moved to rest on her waist as the joyous bars of the next waltz struck up. “For once in your selfish life you will do something for someone else. I will not allow you to destroy Felicity’s day.”

      As he’d already destroyed her.

      Rebecca wanted to laugh hysterically. Damon had no idea…no idea that he would destroy Fliss, too. Dear, beloved Fliss, the closest thing she had to a sister. Her best friend. Her business partner. Or at least she had been until last night when, after the final wedding rehearsal, Fliss had signed her share in Dream Occasions over to Rebecca.

      And why? Because Damon had demanded it.

      The lord and master had made it clear he wanted all ties to Rebecca severed, and Fliss had obeyed. Rebecca had been hotly, impulsively furious. Yet under the fury there had simmered the unspeakable pain of betrayal. Rebecca knew why Fliss had capitulated. Hell, she even understood why her friend was so desperate to marry a man to whom she was so totally unsuited.

      But Fliss should’ve known better, should never have agreed to marry him. Yet how could Fliss refuse? Because Fliss craved security—as Rebecca once had. Unlike a heroine tied to the train tracks in one of those ancient black-and-white movies, Fliss didn’t see the danger. She saw only Damon’s solid strength. His power and wealth.

      Damon was too strong. He’d dominate her. Fliss would never stand up to him. Rebecca feared Fliss would wither and die. So last night Rebecca had decided to take matters into her own hands.

      A cold line of goose bumps swept her spine. Rebecca gave a convulsive shiver at the memory СКАЧАТЬ