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‘Come on, let’s try and find some dresses,’ she said, and Margo was glad for the change in subject.
She spent a surprisingly enjoyable afternoon with both sisters once she’d got used to Xanthe’s nosiness and Ava’s bustling, bossy manner. She realised they were both fun to be around, and she could tell they actually cared about her. It almost felt like being part of a family—something she hadn’t experienced since she’d been twelve years old, and even then not so much...
They finally all agreed on a dress of deep magenta that brought colour to Margo’s face and complemented her dark eyes and hair. Its empire waist and swirling skirt drew attention away from her bump without hiding it completely.
‘Understated, elegant, and just a little bit sexy,’ Ava declared in satisfaction. ‘Perfect. Leo will love it.’
And with a little thrill Margo realised she wanted Leo to love it. She wanted to be beautiful to him again. A dangerous desire, perhaps, but still, caught in the happy glow of their shared afternoon, Margo didn’t try and suppress it. Leo was her husband, after all. Why shouldn’t she want him to find her attractive, desirable?
The night of the party, as she stood in front of the full-length mirror in her bedroom and gazed at her reflection, she wondered again just what Leo would think of her in this dress. She’d done her hair in its usual chignon but styled it a bit more loosely, so a few tendrils escaped to frame her face. She’d taken care with her make-up, making her eyes look bigger and darker with eyeliner and mascara, choosing a berry-red lipstick that matched her dress.
She looked, Margo thought, a bit more like her old self—the old Margo, who’d armed herself with make-up and designer clothes and stiletto heels. And yet she looked...softer, somehow. Her face was rounder, her bump was visible, and she didn’t feel quite as guarded as she normally did.
Maybe living here in Greece with people all around her was softening her slowly. Changing her just a little. It was so different from the isolation she’d known for so long.
A knock sounded on the door that joined her bedroom to Leo’s. He used it on occasion, to come and say goodnight to her, or talk with her about various matters. He always knocked first—always kept things formal and brief.
Now Margo cleared her throat before calling for him to enter.
‘Are you—?’
He stopped as he caught sight of her, and Margo’s breath dried in her throat as she looked at him. He wore a tuxedo, something she’d never actually seen him in before, and the crisp white shirt and black jacket was the perfect foil for his swarthy skin and ink-dark hair. The strong, clean lines of his jaw and cheekbones made Margo ache to touch him. And when she saw the blaze of desire in his eyes she felt as if a Roman candle had lit up inside her, fizzing and firing away.
‘I was going to ask you if you were ready,’ Leo said, his voice turning husky, ‘but you obviously are. You look beautiful, Margo. Utterly enchanting.’
Colour touched her cheeks, and when she spoke her voice was almost as husky as his own. ‘Thank you. You look...incredible.’
She blushed even more at this admission, and Leo’s mouth quirked in a small smile. Margo could feel the tension snapping between them, but for once it was a good, exciting kind of tension. Sexual tension.
‘Shall we?’ he asked, and held out his hand.
Nodding, Margo took it.
Even though they’d been living as man and wife for a couple of weeks, they’d hardly ever touched. In this charged atmosphere the feel of his fingers sliding along her hand and then curling over her fingers made heat pool deep in Margo’s belly.
Leo drew her out of the room and down the stairs towards the guests who were already arriving and milling in the foyer; the extra staff hired for the night circulated with trays of champagne and canapés.
The pooling desire she’d felt was replaced by a sudden lurch of nerves at the sight of all the people waiting to meet her, and maybe to judge her.
Leo gently squeezed her fingers. ‘Chin up,’ he said softly. ‘You look beautiful and you are amazing.’
She glanced at him swiftly, surprise slicing through her at the obvious sincerity in his tone. What was happening between them? This certainly didn’t feel businesslike.
But before she could say anything, or even think about it any further, he was drawing her down the stairs and towards the crowd.
It had been a long time since Margo had socialised; morning sickness had kept her from doing anything but the bare minimum. Now, however, wearing a gorgeous dress, feeling beautiful and even cherished on Leo’s arm, she felt some of her old sparkle return. And people, she found, were happy to welcome her.
