“There are worse women to marry, I’m sure,” Ryan said, thinking of his own narrow escape.

Devon winced in sympathy. “Still no word on Kelly?”

Ryan frowned and shook his head. “No. But I only just started looking. She’ll turn up.”

“Why are you looking for her, man? Why would you even want to go back down that road? Forget about her. Move on. You’re better off without her. You’re out of your mind for pursuing this.”

Ryan curled his lip and turned to look at his friend. “I have no doubt I’m better off. I’m not looking for her so I can welcome her back into my life.”

“Then why did you hire an investigator to find her, for God’s sake? You’d be better off letting the past stay in the past. Get over her. Move on.”

Ryan was silent for a long moment. It wasn’t a question he could entirely answer. How could he explain the burning desire to know where she was? What she was doing. If she was all right. He shouldn’t care, damn it. He should forget all about her, but he couldn’t.

“I want some answers,” he finally muttered. “She never cashed the check I gave her. I’d just like to know that nothing has happened to her.”

The excuse sounded lame even to him.

Devon raised an eyebrow and sipped at the expensive wine. “After what she pulled, I’d imagine she’s feeling pretty damn stupid. I wouldn’t want to show my face either.”

Ryan shrugged. “Maybe.” But he couldn’t shake the feeling that it was something more. Why was he even worried? Why should he care?

Why hadn’t she cashed the check?

Why couldn’t he get her out of his mind? She haunted him. For six months, he had cursed her, lain awake at night wondering where she was and if she was safe. And he hated that he cared, even though he convinced himself he’d worry about any woman under the same circumstances.

Devon shrugged. “Your time and your dime. Oh, look, there’s Cam. Wasn’t sure Mr. Reclusive would actually crawl out of that fortress of his for the event.”

Cameron Hollingsworth shouldered his way through the crowd, and people instinctively moved to get out of his way. He was tall and broad chested, and he wore power and refinement like most other people wore clothing. The stone set of his demeanor made him unapproachable by most. He could be a mean son of a bitch, but he could usually be counted on to relax around his friends.

The problem was, the only people he counted as friends were Ryan, Devon and Rafe. He didn’t have much patience for anyone else.

“Sorry I’m late,” Cameron said as he approached the two men. Then he glanced over the dance floor and his gaze stopped when he came to Rafe and Bryony. “How did the ceremony go?”

“Oh, it was lovely,” Devon drawled. “All a woman could hope for, I’m guessing. Rafe didn’t give a damn as long as the end result was Bryony being his.”