Page 48 of The Wedding Pact

Not that he doesn’t know that. He’s rubbed the fact that someone as cool and beautiful as Margot is his partner in my face enough times over the years.

The guests, sat in the rows of seats set out in front of me, all turn to watch as she makes her way past them and a low murmur of appreciation follows her as she glides to the front, where the celebrant is waiting with Darian to start proceedings.

My stepbrother’s face is a picture of awe as his wife-to-be comes to a halt beside him.

Besotted.

It’s the only word needed.

Something in my chest twangs at the sight of it.

Yeah, okay, there’s probably an element of jealousy there.

She’s a wonderful person.

I glance over at my stepmum and dad, who are sitting on the very front row. They’re both beaming with pride and happiness as their future daughter-in-law moves ever closer to becoming a legally bound part of the family.

I’m not sure why they think it’s such a great achievement to get married. Any fool can walk down an aisle, say a few words to someone and then sign their life away.

Very few make it onto the world’s rich list, like I have.

Now that was a life-changing moment.

And it was a genuine thrill to be able to tell them all it was me who had won the game of life by becoming a billionaire a few years ago.

It still sends a pulse of satisfaction through me to remember that particular family dinner.

But, incredibly, they all still look cheerier today than they did back then.

Anyway, whatever. I know I might sound it right now, but I’m not bitter. I’m all for love and settling down, if that’s what floats your boat.

And my stepbrother’s not such a terrible guy, I guess.

As I mentioned to Ida, he’s the ultimate virtue-signaller, but that’s probably about the worst I can say about him right now. He makes sure to turn up to every single bloody family do the Olds put on, then makes sure to tell me how much my ‘presence was missed’ at each and every one of them.

I’ve tried pointing out that some of us have busy lives and can’t just drop everything at the last second to turn up to a barbeque and eat aggressively burned meat, but he has a way of making me seem like someone who doesn’t put in enough effort, despite the fact I very rarely have any time to myself.

I watch my sister-in-law-to-imminently-be glide serenely to a halt in front of the gathering, the brilliant sunshine lighting up her golden hair.

‘She looks incredible,’ Ida whispers, leaning in towards me so her warm breath tickles my ear. My body gives a shiver of awareness as I turn to look into her lively, dark eyes.

I just flash her a grin, by way of an answer, as it’s suddenly become very quiet in anticipation of the ceremony beginning, and I turn back to watch as my stepbrother steps up to meet his future wife in front of the congregation.

The celebrant immediately launches into the ceremony and I relax back into my silk-bow-wrapped chairback and let the whole scene flow over me like a play.

Weddings have never been my performance of choice, but at least I have the view to gaze at to distract me.

Ida shifts in her seat next to me. Her alluring cinnamon scent hits my nose and causes heat to rush up my spine.

I’m suddenly hard again, which is embarrassing. I’m not sure what’s going on with my body at the moment, but it seems determined to react to her whenever she’s within any kind of distance of me.

But I can’t let her know that.

I don’t want to complicate this.

It’s already complicated enough.

It doesn’t help that we’re in such a beautiful, relaxing setting, with free-flowing alcohol and sunshine beating down on our skin, enticing us to wear as little as possible and touch as much as we can.