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The diamonds scintillated in the lights of the very exclusive jewellers she and Xandros were in. Emotion caught at her.
Mum would have loved to see this day! See this ring on my finger! She would be glad for me—thrilled for me!
That was what she must think. No one—not even her monstrous father!—would be harmed by what she was going to do. Both he and Xandros would be richer and so, in six months’ time, would she. Oh, not rich like them, but rich enough to escape for ever from the bleakness of her London life.
Mum would want that for me—I know she would!
‘If you don’t like this ring there are plenty more to choose from,’ Xandros was saying now.
She looked up at him. ‘It’s fabulous!’ she said. ‘If you think it’s necessary?’ she added doubtfully, knowing how horrendously expensive a ring like this must be.
‘Yes, it is,’ Xandros replied firmly. ‘People will expect it.’ He gave her a pointed look. ‘Rosalie, this marriage has to look genuine. I mean, it will be genuine, but there can’t be any questions about it, okay? So, like it or not, you’ll have to endure wearing it!’
His tone was light, good humoured, but she got the message. Kyria Lakaris-to-be had to look the part—right down to the priceless engagement ring now weighing upon her finger.
She felt its weight as they made their next stop—the register office—to set in motion the process of enabling them to marry. She would need her birth certificate, she discovered, and Xandros undertook to have it couriered out to Athens. The wedding would take place as soon as possible and Xandros—thankfully—had allayed the chief of her alarms.
‘We’ll keep it completely private—no guests. Not even family, okay?’
She was relieved. Having her father present would have been unendurable. Xandros had already told her that he would deal with him—she would not have to see him or have anything to do with him.
‘I’ll let him think that after throwing your tantrum yesterday—because that’s the way he’ll see it!—I’ve prevailed upon you to see the sense of what he said.’ Xandros had told her over brunch, his expression taut. ‘The rest is true enough—that I’ve whisked you away, put you up in a hotel and am now planning our wedding with all speed. As for my own interests in this...’ His tone had taken on an edge that had been audible. ‘I’ll be making it crystal clear to him that the wedding only goes ahead once I have his commitment—in writing—to the merger, and a promise that active negotiations to that end will start immediately. He will give me leave to proceed with due diligence and all the other matters the merger will require, and he will co-operate fully with all the legal processes.’
There were ‘legal processes’ between her and Xandros, too, that had to be addressed. Their next port of call was his private lawyer’s office, where Rosalie’s only protest was at how much money Xandros had stipulated in the pre-nup was to be paid in the event of their divorce—a divorce that was not going to be an ‘if’ but a ‘when’.
‘It’s far too much!’ she protested as they left.
He looked across at her. ‘Rosalie, don’t argue. If you want me to show you just how much my annual profits are projected to increase once the merger with your father goes ahead, then I shall. I am going to be a much richer man than I am now! Your payoff is worth every penny, I promise you!’
She subsided, but with an uneasy sigh. So much money... When she had been so poor...
She felt his hand take hers, as if he sensed her unease.
‘It will be okay,’ he said.
The warmth in his voice was reassuring, and reassurance, Rosalie discovered, was what she needed over the coming days.
She was to go on staying at the hotel until they married, when she would move in with Xandros. He took her to see his apartment, so she could get used to it, and she gazed about her at the spacious expanse and clean lines.
‘Not too minimalist?’ he asked.
She shook her head. It seemed very...intimate...to be here with him, alone in his apartment. Yet his manner towards her was exactly as it was in public—friendly and easy-going. Just that. She was glad, because it made her comfortable to be with him, but at the same time...
She watched him pick up a pile of personal post and leaf through it, busying himself opening an array of envelopes. She wandered off, not wanting to distract him, glancing into the formidably equipped kitchen before discovering the bedrooms. There were three—two guests and a clear master. She stood in the doorway for a moment, her expression uncertain.
Would it be her bedroom as well as his?
/> A quiver of uncertainty went through her. Since that first evening when they’d dined together he had not kissed her again—not even a peck on the cheek to say hello or farewell. She felt a strange little tug around her heart. Part of her wanted to ask him just what kind of marriage theirs was going to be, however brief—but part of her could not bring herself to do so.
Because in the end did it matter? Did it matter that he was the most fantastic-looking man she’d ever set eyes on? That since that kiss at the restaurant she had felt an ache, a yearning, that he had awoken in her with that brief touch of his lips on hers?
That wasn’t the reason they were marrying! That was what she had to remember. The reasons they were going to marry were financial—nothing more than that. And if that was all Xandros wanted of their brief marriage then she must accept it.
Except that strange little tug around her heart came again... No man, she knew, would ever set her pulse racing, bring the colour to her cheeks, make her so blazingly aware of her own body...of his...
Her eyes went to the huge double bed in the master bedroom. Wide enough for two...wide and inviting... But would she ever be invited into it...? Uncertainty mixed within her with yearning...longing...
‘Here you are!’
