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hand and brushed the back of her knuckles lightly with his lips, his manner faultless. What a relief—his touch didn’t burn her skin as Trevor’s had. And his nearness didn’t weaken her knees. She smiled at him. “I am pleased to meet you.”
    â€œI’ll bet you are,” Trevor said, studying her with those damnable heavy-lidded eyes.
    She was forced to acknowledge him. “Good evening.”
    Instead of taking her hand as Cameron had, Trevor clasped his behind his back and slowly regarded every inch of her. “Indeed, it is.”
    His neatly combed hair appeared as black as his velvet jacket. His charcoal trousers were molded to his narrow hips and long legs. This Trevor was even more handsome and magnetic than the man who had left her so confused a few hours earlier. She had to force herself to breathe. What was the matter with her? For pity’s sake, she wasn’t a schoolgirl.
    Something wavered in his countenance. “Excuse me.” He turned on his heel, and stepped out to the terrace.
    What in the world had just happened to make him walk away so abruptly ? Squaring her shoulders, she smiled and turned back to Cameron.
    He slid his hand gracefully into hers, and guided her to his parents. “I’d like you to meet my father and his new wife.”
    Celine exhaled softly, thankful Cameron was friendly—and that he didn’t have the same effect on her as Trevor.
    Cameron’s father, Miles, was a younger version of Justin, the gray only beginning to appear at his temples. A short, squat woman stood next to him. Elizabeth Andrews bent her head to Celine when they were introduced, but said nothing. Her cheeks turned crimson, and she cast her gaze to the floor.
    Why, she’s painfully shy.
    Cameron still held Celine’s hand when Trevor returned a few moments later. An odd smile turned up the corners of his mouth. “Nice to see you two have become fast friends.”
    â€œShall we be seated?” Justin broke in, ending Trevor’s game.
    Dear Lord, give me strength . Celine slowly let out her breath and moved to the table. She stood behind the chair in front of a place card bearing her name.
    â€œAh, delightful.” Cameron pulled her chair out along with the one to her right.
    â€œI believe that’s where Michel is to sit,” Celine said, indicating the place setting next to hers. “Yours is to the right of his.”
    Cameron nonchalantly switched place cards. “So it was.”
    Lindsey scurried into his seat to her left as if he feared someone might snatch his place card away too.
    Trevor sat down opposite her. Her fingers gripped the sides of her chair. She’d sneaked in earlier in the day and made certain he was seated as far from her as possible. How did the scoundrel come to sit directly across from her? It chafed her temper to know he would be in her direct line of vision the entire evening and there was little she could do about it.
    Miles and Justin sat at opposite ends of the table, Elizabeth next to Miles. The chair to Justin’s right stood empty. Justin glowered at Trevor. “Who changed the seating arrangement around?”
    A corner of Trevor’s mouth twitched. He raised the glass of sangria to his lips. It did little good—his eyes laughed at her over the rim.
    Justin’s demeanor shifted, as if he had second thoughts, and he mumbled, “Won’t this be an evening worth watching.”
    Felicité made her grand entrance dressed in a silvery blue silk gown trimmed in white lace, a string of perfectly matched pearls at her throat. She sat in the vacant seat next to her father and began to chatter in French.
    â€œ Mon Dieu,” her father muttered. Then his face brightened. “Elizabeth only speaks English. To speak in any other language would be tantamount to whispering behind her back. Would everyone agree?”
    â€œThat should hold the little one’s tongue a