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‘Life is tough, Drakon—as I’m sure Xander would tell us if he were able to speak.’
He nodded, his eyes still searching her face, as if he was seeing something he hadn’t noticed before. ‘I don’t want any more children,’ he said suddenly.
‘I’m sorry?’
‘More kids.’ His voice was rough. ‘One is my limit and if you want more—’
‘I don’t,’ she said quickly, as relief washed over her. ‘I think children should only ever be conceived in love and we’ve both agreed that isn’t what is driving this marriage of ours.’
His nodded slowly, his eyes narrowing. ‘There’s something else we haven’t addressed,’ he said softly.
Her brow creased. ‘Which is?’
‘The ring.’
‘The ring?’ she repeated.
‘An engagement ring. It’s fairly traditional in most cultures, as far as I’m aware. Surely you must have been expecting one, Lucy? I thought all women had preferences about what kind of jewels they’d like in this situation.’
‘No, Drakon, all women do not—at least, not those of us who live relatively normal lives. I have better things to do with my time than drool about diamonds.’ Recklessly, she took another mouthful of champagne—a much bigger one this time—which really went to her head. Serves you right, she thought dazedly as she carefully replaced the glass on the table. ‘I’m astonished you didn’t ask your partner, Amy, to select one for me as she did my clothes,’ she said, in an acid tone she’d never heard herself use before. ‘Or maybe she already has?’
He shook his head. ‘The answer is no on both counts. She couldn’t have done even if I wanted her to because she’s flown out to Singapore on business.’
‘Gosh. How will you be able to manage without her?’ she questioned, the lingering effects of the wine still evident in her unusually flippant tone.
‘Amy’s absence certainly makes me realise how hard she works.’ Almost carelessly, he slid a small box across the table. ‘I bought this for you myself, so if you don’t like it you’re at liberty to change it.’ As Lucy continued to stare at it, he lowered his voice into a murmured command. ‘Stop looking at it as though it were an unexploded bomb. Open it.’
With faltering fingers she did just that, and it was a measure of just how glitzy the world in which she now found herself that Lucy realised she was expecting to see a whacking great diamond, or an emerald the size of a gull’s egg. Because wasn’t that what billionaires usually bought for their future brides, especially if it was an arranged marriage? Some huge chunk of glittering gemstone which would be way too big for her finger and look like paste on someone so unremittingly ordinary.
But as she flipped open the box to reveal a ring, it was to discover that Drakon had surprised her and in a way she almost wished he hadn’t, because it made her feel quite breathless. Set in embellished gold was a square-cut sapphire the indefinable colour of a spot of ink dropped into a beaker of water, which glittered in the pale winter light that streamed in through the windows. It was delicate, unusual and beautiful. The most beautiful ring she had ever seen.
‘What made you choose this?’ she questioned shakily.
He shrugged. ‘The jeweller asked me what colour your eyes were.’
Lucy’s heart raced and a strange, restrictive dryness in her throat made it difficult for her to speak as for one split second she allowed herself to sink into a fantasy of longing. ‘And you remembered?’
‘It’s hardly neuroscience, Lucy. I only saw you a couple of days ago.’ His slightly impatient look was followed by a dismissive shake of his head as he picked up his menu. ‘Come on. Let’s order. I have a meeting this afternoon.’
CHAPTER FIVE
STANDING IN ALL her wedding finery and trying not to let her nerves get the better of her, Lucy waited in the anteroom of the grand ballroom where her marriage to Drakon was about to take place. Tightly, she gripped her bouquet, which contrasted so vividly with the snowy whiteness of he
r dress. Scarlet roses flared like beacons amid the lush greenery and a sprig of mistletoe had been playfully added at the last minute by the Granchester’s in-house florist, as a nod towards the fact that it was almost Christmas.
Donna, the wedding planner, had arranged for carols to be piped through the hotel’s sophisticated sound system because ‘everyone loves Christmas carols’. But if the seasonal songs were supposed to be soothing or comforting then they had failed in their mission because Lucy’s brow was clammy and her heart was racing beneath the heavily embellished dress which she’d been persuaded into against her better judgment. She’d wanted something simple. Something plain, in ivory—an outfit she didn’t have to think about, rather than something which would wear her. But the dress designer had explained that a room as grand as the Granchester ballroom needed a gown to stand out among all the lavish fixtures and fittings. Something which would fill the makeshift aisle rather than getting completely lost in it. Which was why she was wearing jewel-encrusted white silk satin, with an oversized veil cascading down her back, looking as if a tipper truck had just offloaded a ton of sequin-sprinkled meringue.
Her throat felt like dust and her lips were dry and she kept thinking, Surely this isn’t how a bride is supposed to feel? Lost and displaced and alone. Wondering what she’d let herself in for and whether she’d been a fool to accept the Greek magnate’s offer of marriage. But how did she expect to feel, when the hectic preparations for the imminent ceremony seemed to have done nothing but emphasise the huge differences between her and her billionaire bridegroom? Especially since, after citing a busy work schedule, Drakon had absented himself from all the arrangements—except for providing a list of guests he wished to be invited, which hugely outnumbered her own.
‘So it’s definitely just five guests on your side?’ The wedding planner had clearly been puzzled as she’d looked at Lucy expectantly, as if waiting to be told there’d been an elemental mix-up in the numbers and she’d missed off a nought.
Lucy’s smile had stayed firmly in place. ‘That’s right.’
‘Okay... Well, if you’re quite sure...’
She supposed it wasn’t conventional for the bride to be so sparsely represented but Lucy had been strong in her determination only to have people there who meant something to her. Wasn’t this wedding fake enough already without her shipping in a load of guests just for show? Her parents and brother were dead and her only other living relative was Auntie Alice, who lived in Australia and had been unable to make the wedding this close to the holidays. And it wasn’t as if she and Drakon had already formed lots of friends between them as a couple, was it? They’d barely spent more than a couple of hours together at a time during the frantic run-up to the big day.
And whose fault was that?
