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aimlessly through the labyrinth of smaller salons. The reception party was in full swing now and the close to two hundred guests were letting their hair down and enjoying themselves. All except for him. He hadn’t been this wound up since facing his first opening night on Broadway.
    The place was heaving. How could one couple have so many friends and acquaintances? And not one of them seemed to be shy about approaching him and asking after his relationship to Connor. No one, that was, except the one woman he’d come all this way to see.
    Pull yourself together, man.
    He leaned back against the wall and reminded himself to relax. At least he’d finally got rid of the gaggle of teenage girls who had been stalking him for close to an hour but had been too tongue-tied to say anything.
    As he watched the dancers twisting the night away with varying degrees of grace—and waited in vain to catch a glimpse of bronze satin and blonde curls—the question that had been bugging him all evening began to bug him some more.
    What had possessed him to come here?
    Yesterday evening he’d been at the London wrap party of his latest movie getting an offer he shouldn’t have been able to refuse from his beautiful co-star Imelda Jackson. But instead of taking Imelda up on her suggestion of a ‘quick, one-night liaison to let off steam’, he’d turned her down flat.
    He scowled and drained the last of the juice. There was no doubting it any more. The blame for that bit of insanity and his mad decision to come to Connor’s wedding lay squarely at the dainty feet of the Invisible Miss Juno.
    She’d cast a spell on him and lured him here against his will like some damn siren queen. Ever since she’d kissed him at Heathrow, he’d not been able to get her out of his thoughts. When he’d woken up this morning after yet another erotic fantasy in which she was the headline attraction, he’d known it was past time to take affirmative action.
    He didn’t obsess about sex and he certainly didn’t let women he barely knew invade his dreams. So he’d taken the last in a long line of cold showers, dug out the wedding invite—which he’d somehow forgotten to toss—cancelled his first-class flight to LA that evening and booked a midmorning one to Nice.
    It wasn’t until he’d been standing at the back of the little French chapel, though, that he’d realised he’d bitten off considerably more than he wanted to chew. Seeing his brother again had been like taking a solid right hook to the gut andthat had been bad enough. But then he’d come face to face with Juno, her slim, coltish figure dressed in some gorgeous bit of fancy that stroked over her curves like a lover’s hand. He’d looked into those incredible eyes, felt the jolt of awareness thump him hard in the solar plexus, and he’d known dealing with Connor wasn’t his biggest problem—not by a long shot.
    She hadn’t looked one bit pleased to see him. But just when he’d thought he’d got a handle on her, when he’d felt that connection between them in the car and seen the attraction in her luminous blue-green eyes, she’d done her disappearing act.
    Now, after an evening of making pointless small talk with people he didn’t know but who behaved as if they knew him, of wandering around like a fool searching for someone who seemed to have vanished—and carefully avoiding his brother and his brother’s wife—he felt tense and edgy and seriously pissed off—with himself as well as her.
    He should have left hours ago. But he hadn’t been able to make himself do it. He couldn’t walk away from Juno. Not a second time. Whatever the hell she’d done to him two weeks ago, he needed to sort it out. Tonight. He wasn’t spending a moment longer with her dogging his thoughts—especially as he now had the vision of her in that damn dress to contend with.
    He dumped his empty glass on the tray of a passing waiter and once more swept his gaze over the crowd. As she was the maid