Was he going to talk to Justin? Nothing he could say would make any difference, and Justin couldn't be bought. Let him find out the hard way that his daughter had finally found a man who was her father's equal.
Nothing more was said about Justin, and Mr. O'Hara's silence was confirmation that he had tried and failed. Now maybe he would stop trying to meddle in her life. Some things were meant to be - or not to be, and apparently this was one. Painful as it was, she was going to have to write any plans that included Justin out of her future.
A sleepless night and a busy day at work did little for her disposition. As she turned into the circular drive and shut off the engine, she let out a long sigh. If this hadn't been an engagement party for Denton and Clarissa, she would have stayed at home. Everyone might have thought it was sour grapes, though. Not that it mattered, except that kind of talk would make it uncomfortable for Denton and Clarissa.
She was late again, and everyone was on the verandah. Clarissa sat her chair like a queen on a throne, the toe of a red pump and a white plaster clad foot peeping out from under her long gown. Denton fussed over her, bringing her drinks and offering hors d'oeuvres. It was amazing how a person could change. But then, he hadn't really changed. He had simply gone back to the man he had been when they first met. He was right. She had been as guilty of snuffing his pride as he had been of putting her down. Unwittingly, she had done the same thing to Justin. She deserved what was happening now.
Megan greeted her way through a handful of guests on her route to an empty chair. But before she reached the chair, a guest discovered and occupied it. A hushed silence fell over the verandah and the strains of an old song filtered soft music through the air. The lyrics clutched at her heart.
Can I have this dance for the rest of my life?
Can I be your partner every night?
When we're together it feels so right...
A strong hand gripped her arm, gently but firmly pulling her out onto the open area on the verandah. His arm slipped around her waist, drawing her close, and she stared up into those unusual amber eyes. He spoke with a soft drawl.
"Wanna dance?"
Not trusting her voice, she moved into his arms and tried to muster a smile. What was he doing here? Then memory flooded back with a sharp pain. Maybe he could be bought, after all.