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But beside her Leon stood tense and unmoving, and as Marnie glanced up into his stony features, another feeling of concern flickered over her. ‘Are you okay?’
His smile was edged with grit. ‘It wasn’t the most palatable occasion of my life, but at least it’s over. I think we should have something to drink to celebrate that fact, don’t you?’
He handed her a goblet of champagne but it tasted vinegary and Marnie surreptitiously tipped it into a nearby plant pot while nobody was looking. But Leon was looking. She glanced up to find his gaze fixed on her and suddenly she was transported back to those times when the foster home insisted on giving her macaroni cheese and standing over her while she ate it, even though they knew it made her retch. Once she’d been caught hiding the cold lump of food in her handkerchief and the red marks on her knuckles from the resulting caning had taken days to disappear. She shifted uncomfortably on her high heels.
‘I didn’t mean to—’
‘Don’t worry about it.’ A wry smiled touched the edges of his lips. ‘It’s fine. I agree. The champagne leaves a lot to be desired. I wonder if my new stepmother had a hand in choosing it—she doesn’t exactly look like a woman of taste, does she?’
She followed the direction of his gaze to see that the newlyweds had taken to the floor for the first dance and the bride was strutting her stuff—seemingly oblivious to the presence of her new husband, who was jigging awkwardly by her side. It was excruciating to watch, but when the music came to an end and other couples started taking to the floor, Leon took the empty glass from Marnie’s suddenly nerveless fingers and put it down.
‘Come on, Marnie,’ he said. ‘Dance with me.’
Marnie glanced up at his stony features as they found a deserted space on the dance floor, thinking that there was a new brittleness about him all of a sudden. A sombreness which seemed to have settled over him like a dark mantle. She thought about the way his face had hardened when he’d been talking to his father on the terrace and she asked him again.
‘What did Stavros say to you back there?’
There was a pause before he answered. A pause which went on for so long that she wondered if he’d heard her question, or whether he was just blanking it. And when he began to speak, his words were edged with iron.
‘He thanked me for coming. He said it was important to him because it enhanced his reputation as a father, as well as giving my tacit seal of approval to the marriage. He also said he was pleased I’d done so well for myself, because all his money would be going to his new wife and her large and apparently impoverished family. Oh, and to my two stepbrothers, who have never done a day’s work in their lives.’
‘Oh, Leon.’
He shook his head. ‘I don’t want your pity, Marnie,’ he said softly. ‘Just like I don’t want his damned money. I never did. That much hasn’t changed. I’m just not sure why he made such a damned fuss about me coming here, if all he wanted to do was to inform me of the terms of his will.’
She hesitated. ‘Maybe you being here means more to him than he’s letting on and he’s just being clumsy about expressing it.’
‘Please don’t go getting all sentimental on me.’
‘I can assure you I’m the last person who could ever be accused of being sentimental.’
But as his arms tightened around her waist, Marnie realised that maybe some of her old ideas did need revisiting. It w
as weird. She’d always been envious of people who hadn’t been poor, or who’d had a permanent home when they were growing up. And even more envious of those kids with parents, even if they weren’t happy—because at least divorced or separated parents were around. But Leon had described the atmosphere in this place as toxic and not much had changed. It seemed there was to be no fairy-tale ending. Even now, after all these years.
And hadn’t she wanted that to happen? Deep down, hadn’t she hoped that Leon’s icy heart might melt a bit, if he was successfully reunited with his father? And then what? That he’d suddenly realise he wanted more from their relationship than he’d previously imagined? Well, more fool her. Hope really did spring eternal.
She almost wished they weren’t dancing because it felt so poignant as she realised this was probably the first and last time they would ever dance like this. As they moved in time to the music, she could feel the strength radiating from his powerful body as he pulled her closer, even though from the corner of her eye she could see people watching them. Too many people, she thought fleetingly before another wave of physical reaction blotted out her reservations. She thought how perfectly their bodies fitted together, despite the fact that he was so tall and she was so short. As if they had been designed to match like this.
Her heart contracted. She was going to miss him. More than she could ever say. How long would it take to forget a man who was so unforgettable? She realised how naïve she had been in believing that having Leon teach her about sex might help in any future new relationship. How was that ever going to be possible when the thought of being in another man’s arms made her feel sick?
‘Do you want...do you want to go and circulate?’ she whispered, because now the dance was beginning to feel dangerously erotic. Her breasts were throbbing and tender and her skin was on fire. She could feel a silken tug at the juncture of her thighs as he tightened his hold on her and she swayed in his arms.
‘No, Marnie.’ His voice was uneven. ‘The only thing I want to circulate is you.’
But that wasn’t strictly true. Leon felt so turned on by having her in his arms like this that he could barely move. Against the musculature of his body her light weight and soft curves were tantalising, her subtle scent causing his heart to race like a train. With the tips of his fingers he began stroking her back, unable to resist touching her. He felt her instant shiver in response. He swallowed. It felt as though he were touching her bare skin and the provocation of that was making him grow hard. He thought her breasts seemed bigger than usual, as if they had expanded in the warmth of the Greek day. Or maybe the bodice of her dress could no longer defy gravity and contain their lush weight. He could feel her nipples getting tauter against his chest—and he buried his face in her hair, overcome by a sudden sensation which made him feel almost light-headed.
She was so different from any other woman he’d ever met and suddenly he found himself listing all the reasons why. She wasn’t pretending to feel things in order to impress him. She didn’t want his money and worked hard to pay her own way. She was here because she wanted to be and not because she wanted to be seen with him—indeed hadn’t she been noticeably uncomfortable when she’d seen the crush of people when they’d arrived? His billionaire status meant nothing to her—she had proved that over and over again. Was it possible that this woman—the most unlikely candidate of all—should make him rethink what he wanted from life?
‘Marnie,’ he said huskily.
‘Mmm?’ She dragged her head away from where it had been resting against his chest and looked up into his face.
Her eyes were wide and her lips utterly irresistible and something clenched deep inside his chest. Oblivious to the watching eyes and his usual restraint in public, he started to kiss her. And suddenly the world tipped on its axis. He could feel the tremble of her lips and heard the sigh of pleasure she gave as his tongue began to explore her mouth. Or was he confusing that sound with his own shuddered groan, as he revelled in the taste of her and found himself thinking that he’d never known anything quite so delicious as this kiss.
He knew he should stop what they were doing and move this upstairs to the bedroom, but for once his famously steely self-control was eluding him. What the hell did she do to him, that all his certainties suddenly seemed as insubstantial as dust? He was fired up by something he’d never felt before, something he couldn’t seem to evaluate. It was a feeling of excitement, tempered with calm. It was comfort and joy. It was anticipation and serenity—all spiced with a powerful sense of desire which pulsed through his veins like a fever. It was feeling as if he’d come home at last. Properly home. Not to a vast, cold mansion where he’d spent so much time alone, nor to any number of lonely luxury houses in enviable locations, but to a place of sanctuary which wasn’t defined by bricks and mortar but by the soft, giving woman he was holding.
He kissed her again. And again. And perhaps if he hadn’t been so captivated by her, he might have noticed the dark-clad figure moving stealthily around the edge of the dance floor. But he didn’t. He didn’t notice anything except the shining blonde in his arms.
