Read Something Borrowed for Free Online Page B

‘Hey, it’s not my fault if you have trouble sleeping. I wasn’t the one breaking up a marriage.’
    He froze. ‘Shoot the messenger, why don’t you? And it was just a wedding, not a marriage.’
    ‘Just a wedding? Just a wedding? It was my wedding. Your cousin’s wedding. But it all went swimmingly well for you in the end, didn’t it? Not a good match, you said. It was for the best, you said. So you got what you wanted.’ She stopped glowering at him for a second and raised her hand to a concerned-looking Stacey, who was waving a menu at her. ‘I’ll be there in just a minute. Ironing out some minor details here. Have a chat with Mark about what dishes you want.’
    Vaughn stopped winding but didn’t make to go back inside. On her wedding day, she’d had plenty of other things to think about, so she hadn’t realised just how tall he was, how broad shouldered. How nice he smelt—like an exotic vanilla, mixed with spice and something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Delicious. It was a shock, considering she shouldn’t have been smelling him at all. She should have carried on walking through into the main room with Stacey and Mark and taken a chance on brushing past him. Or walked out. Refused to come in the first place.
    And now, to add to that, she was so close she could see his dark eyes weren’t like midnight at all; they were a curious mix of dark grey and silver. They were quite astonishing. Extraordinary, in fact. And holding some kind of irritated dare or that same self-righteous smugness.
    Apart from the scar she’d inflicted on his forehead from the rugby tackle, his features were unblemished. His nose was perfectly straight. Lines crossed his forehead, getting deeper with every second they glared at each other. She tried not to look at his mouth because her stomach went strangely tumbly when she looked there, probably due to the fact that whenever he spoke, a veiled insult, or harmful intent, or just plain anger came out.
    ‘Really? You think I broke up your relationship with Jason? It was my fault? Get real, Chloe. What I thought didn’t come into it. I was helping out my cousin who was worried about how you’d react. And he was right, wasn’t he?’ But there was a hint of a smile there in his voice, and the corners of his mouth twitched. Was he laughing at her? ‘I’m still getting headaches…’
    ‘Oh? God, did I give you a concussion?’ Genuine concern wriggled through her. For some reason, she had the urge to touch the place on his forehead that had the tiniest of scars. ‘Brain damage? I gave you a concussion and brain damage?’
    ‘No, don’t get all panicky. It’s just the memory of that day brings on head pain. You don’t take disappointment well.’ He shook his head, eyes glinting a little. ‘But, you’ve got a great tackle. Watch out, England might call you up for the world cup; God knows they need all the help they can get.’
    Chloe shrugged and hoped he’d erased the memory of her whacking him on the backside with her bouquet. ‘I work out.’
    ‘So I gathered. How’s the anger management thing going?’ If for a moment she’d thought there was a friendly tone in his voice, it was gone.
    ‘Oh, come on. I didn’t hurt you intentionally, you know that. The damage only happened because your head hit the slate tiles. It was bad timing, an accident.’
    She’d lunged at him with no intention of actually touching him, but her feet had tangled in her wedding dress train, and she’d lost her balance, propelling forward with force and taking him down to the floor. Then, frustrated, annoyed and humiliated, she’d smacked him on his bottom with her wedding bouquet.
    She’d explained it all to the police, and they’d let her go with a warning. In fact, they’d laughed. It wasn’t assault. It wasn’t GBH. It was an over exuberance of her frustration, and she had never, ever hit anyone before or since, which was making his overreaction a little hard to bear.