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Her gaze was searching his face, as if she were trying to gauge his reaction. ‘I know this is slightly different,’ she said nervously, smoothing her palms over the material.
‘Turn around for me,’ he instructed silkily. ‘What happened to the red dress you were supposed to be wearing?’
Marnie nodded as she did as he asked, unable to allay her sudden rush of nerves and wondering if she’d been too headstrong in her choice as she faced him. ‘You would have preferred me to wear that instead? Do you mind?’
‘Are you crazy? Why would I mind? You look absolutely sensational, Marnie. You must know that.’
Did she? Marnie swallowed. She looked more like herself—that was for sure. Most of the clothes his fancy stylist had purchased were perfect, but the red dress had felt like a step too far. Despite his assurances that the outfits were modest it had seemed too clingy and too provocative and when she’d stared at herself in the mirror, her shocked breath had frozen in her throat—but she couldn’t possibly tell Leon the reason why.
Imagine his face if she did.
Imagine the dilemma he would face as a result of her disclosure—if he realised why it should disturb her so much.
It makes me look like my mother.
She’d used some of the money she’d been saving for Pansy to nip out from the salon with Hayley the following lunchtime to buy something different. Something more suited to a hairdresser’s salary—although Hayley had persuaded her to be a bit more daring than usual. But at least now she didn’t look a rich man’s mistress, because that wasn’t how she wanted Leon to remember her. Hadn’t she already decided this wedding was going to be their swansong and she was going to make a graceful exit from his life when they arrived back in London? Her mouth dried. Even though the thought of leaving him was making her heart want to shatter into a million pieces...
‘What’s wrong?’ he demanded. ‘Your face has gone as pale as milk. What is it that you say in England—as if someone had walked over your grave?’
The pound of her heart felt like guilt and Marnie scrabbled around to come up with a reasonable explanation, because what would be the point of coming here if she was going to spoil the event with all her fears about the future? ‘I guess meeting your dad was more nerve-racking than I’d anticipated and I’m wondering what on earth I’m going to say to the bride,’ she babbled. ‘You do realise she’s younger than I am?’
‘I think I’ve been quietly blocking out that fact,’ he offered drily. ‘Don’t worry about it, Marnie. Just be yourself.’
She wondered how she could be ‘herself’ when she wasn’t even sure s
he knew who that person was any more. Beneath her dress, she was still wearing some of the lingerie Leon had bought—which probably cost more than an entire month’s pay cheque. Yet if she was being brutally honest, didn’t she like the sensation of fine silk sliding over her skin? Sometimes she wondered what it was going to be like returning to ‘normal’ life when their affair was over—if she was going to find it a sobering comedown.
But her reservations were forgotten as he pulled her into his arms to graze his mouth over hers in a teasing kind of kiss. As his fingertips skimmed over her bottom, Marnie felt the inevitable ripple of desire and Leon must have felt it too because his hold on her tightened, his palms pressing against her buttocks.
‘Neh. You and me both,’ he murmured complicitly, his breath fanning her mouth. ‘If you must know, I’d like to fast-forward the next few hours because I can think of some far more enjoyable ways of spending a weekend in Greece.’
‘You want to go and visit some crumbling temples?’ she questioned innocently.
‘I want to take your panties off as quickly as possible but that will have to wait until later. Come on. Let’s go.’
He laced her fingers with his as they began to make their way through the maze-like property—and if Marnie was surprised at this unusually tactile display, she guessed it was because there was nobody around to see them. As they passed beneath elaborately painted ceilings and tall columns which emphasised the dizzying scale of the house, the touch of his skin felt electric. She told herself it didn’t mean anything—even if she was discovering how much she liked this languid gesture of possession which marked her out as Leon’s woman.
Which she wasn’t.
Get real, she reminded herself fiercely. That would imply some measure of permanence which has never been up for grabs. Your position in his life is short-lived and temporary.
And very soon it was going to be over.
And the moment they stepped outside, everything changed. An instant buzz zipped around the grounds as people spotted them and started to converge on them, or rather—on Leon. When he let go of her hand Marnie felt as though she’d lost her anchor. This was way more than a handful of guests, she thought desperately. She was completely alone in a bobbing sea of bodies but she forced herself to smile brightly and to nod as if she understood, even though everyone was speaking in Greek.
Suddenly Leon was back by her side, a glitter of fury icing his blue eyes as he touched his fingertips to her waist. ‘This place is like a damned circus,’ he hissed. ‘I feel like leaving right now.’
‘We can’t go yet. Come on, let’s go and sit down.’
The scent of the flowers was so strong it was cloying and as they walked towards their seats Marnie could see heads turning to watch them. Was that because Leon was just so outrageously handsome, with the sunlight turning his skin to bronze and making his eyes look bluer than the nearby sea? Or were they wondering why he’d brought this unknown woman from England as his guest, instead of leaving himself free to chat up one of the many gorgeous women here?
As they sat down a sudden silence descended on the congregation and, along with everyone else, Marnie turned to see Stavros standing in the doorway of the enormous mansion. To the sound of loud cheers, he began to almost sprint towards the wedding arch and Marnie couldn’t help thinking how sad it was. It was such an inappropriate speed for someone to make their way up the aisle and supposedly designed to imply that, despite his great age, he was still very fit.
The bride was fashionably late, her eye-popping figure revealed by a dress designed to do just that. The white satin gown was backless, plunging and split to the thigh—caressing every gym-honed curve of her incredible body. Despite her startling youth, she appeared to have had some work done on her face—either that or she’d had an allergic reaction to her lipstick.
Marnie had been to several weddings of questionable taste in her time, but surely you’d have to travel a long way to find one as awful as this. Her heart went out to Leon as his father kissed his new wife for much longer than was necessary. A man with waist-length hair who had been eyeing up the bride throughout the ceremony perched himself on a stool and started to croon a song to the newly-weds, even though he was obviously tone deaf.
And then, mercifully, it was over. Clouds of rose petals fluttered in the air as the couple turned towards the congregation and began to walk, arm in arm. Music began to be played—thankfully by some excellent bazooka players—and glasses of champagne were offered around.
