Wedding Night with a Stranger (9 page)

‘Whoa, hold on.’ The separate pieces of information lodged themselves into Sebastian’s brain, but, focusing on the most immediate, he held up a hand. ‘
Today.
I don’t think so. I told you, there are laws in this country.’

‘No,’ she said, her face as earnest and innocent as a nun’s. A sexy, determined nun. A nun whose smooth breasts were screened by little more than a couple of thin layers of cotton fabric. ‘I looked it up just now on the Internet. You can get the court officials to grant you a licence if you have a good reason.’

‘Right.’ He shook his head disbelievingly, although he had an inkling that what she’d said might be true. She’d done her homework well. It was clear Miss Ariadne Giorgias really wanted to marry him. Today. For whatever reason.

Even in thrall to lust, he had to wonder what the emergency was.

‘Ah,’ he said, his voice deepening, ‘just supposing for a crazy moment I were to consider it, I’m not sure what that good reason would be. So I can assist a rich woman to get richer?’

‘I’m not rich,’ she said quickly. ‘If you expect that you’ll be disappointed. I just want what belongs to me.’ Then she lowered her lashes and added quietly, ‘Anyway, if you don’t care to, it doesn’t matter. I’ll probably go back to Greece.’

Intrigued, he realised that for some reason, she needed to get married fast. And whether she knew it or not, her threat had genuine potency. He didn’t want her to go back to Greece. Not yet.

His gaze drifted to her shoulders and arms. The feel of her ached in his memory. He itched to take her arms in his hands, feel their soft, toned resilience. Instead, he reached across and took her hands.

‘So tell me. What’s the big rush?’

Her slim hands trembled in his grasp, and her gaze flooded with an awareness that sent the hot blood coursing to his loins. Nothing could have been more seductive than to inspire that look in a beautiful woman.

But almost at once she pulled away and tucked her hands out of reach, her gaze guarded. No touching, he understood. Not until it was legal.

‘Well, it’s—it’s just a matter of timing.’ She evaded his eyes. ‘I’m not planning to stay in Sydney long, so it makes sense to do it at once. The sooner I marry, the sooner I’ll have my inheritance. Why wait?’

‘What about your dress, the church, the photographer? They all take time. And don’t you want to give your aunt and uncle plenty of notice? Surely you want them at your wedding?’

‘
No.
’ Her hands flew up in agitation. ‘Absolutely
n
—’ She pulled herself up and said in a low, firm voice, ‘I—I don’t want to bother them with it. I don’t want to bother anyone.’

‘I see.’ He considered her a moment. ‘As it happens, I have a grandmother, parents, two sisters and a brother who’d almost certainly feel cheated if I didn’t invite them to my wedding.’

‘Please.’ Her blue eyes widened in horror. ‘I can’t do it at all if I have to have a big ceremony and all that publicity. I’d really much prefer it if we kept it a secret from people here.’

He raised his brows, then remembered her distress last night at the thought of the uncle’s deal being known. Still, he couldn’t imagine keeping a bride concealed for long from his highly inquisitive family. ‘Are you sure you know what you’re doing? Families have a way of finding things out.’

Her face tensed. ‘Oh. Do you live with yours?’

‘Hell, no, thank God. They live across the bridge, and I live at Bronte Beach.’ He was touched with a slight discomfort then about what they would think if they knew any of this. Him taking up with a woman so spontaneously, after Esther and all she’d suffered. At least, that was how it would appear.

‘Why? Don’t you like them?’ Her anxious blue glance drew him.

‘I
like
them. It’s just that I have to keep a distance from them or they’d kill me with kindness.’

Her shoulders relaxed and she brightened. ‘Good. Then what’s the worry? And anyway, how could you even
think
of wanting it in a church with the priest and the holy sacraments? We’ll be divorcing just as soon as we can. It’d be a—
sacrilege.
’ She gazed at him with scandalised reproach, then shook her head and sighed. ‘Don’t they have places here for things like this where you can just have a civil wedding? Without all the stuff? Just someone to say the words, then you sign something?’

He made a wry grimace. ‘Sure. They have that. I thought it was the life goal of most women to have all the stuff.’

She looked quickly at him, and he realised he’d struck some sort of chord. She said emphatically, ‘Not me.’ Then she leaned forward, her eyes suddenly blazing, her cool thrown to the winds. ‘Look, if you don’t want to do it, it’s all right, I don’t either, not really. It was a stupid idea. Let’s forget the whole thing.’

Sebastian heard himself say coolly, ‘Relax. I’ll do it.’

‘Oh,’ she breathed, sitting back. ‘You will?’ The relief sparkling from her blue eyes sent his curiosity skyrocketing. What was going on? ‘Today?’

He shrugged. ‘If I can organise the licence. There’s no guarantee, mind, but I’ll get my lawyer to give it a shot. You’d better give me your passport. There’s bound to be miles of red tape.’

She handed him a slim zip-purse with her passport and travel documents. He slipped it in his pocket, then took her hand across the table and held it. The hand was warm and trembling, her shy, glowing eyes the same cerulean blue as the sky.

He felt a giddy burst of desire-driven euphoria. ‘You won’t regret it.’

‘Of course not.’ She gave him an unsure smile. ‘We both have something to gain.’

But he could feel her palm zinging against his like a butterfly wing. His heart accelerated to a strong certainty that his instincts about her were correct. She wanted him, he felt sure of it. He could feel the leap of response in her every touch and
glance. Despite her cool little negotiation, there was passion in her, and tonight it would be his to unlock.

A shadow hovered at the edge of his mind but he pushed it back and rose to his feet, glancing at his watch. Just about time to get back for his next meeting. Though God knew how he’d concentrate for the rest of the day on such mundane things as satellite systems when he had a wedding ahead of him. A wedding
night.

He whipped out a card and wrote his number on the back. ‘Here. I’ll phone you at the hotel when I’ve arranged things.’

She hesitated, then said lightly, ‘It might be better if I phone you.’

‘Fine.’ He touched her cheek, and made a gruff attempt to soothe away the aftermath of last night’s angry exchange at the restaurant. ‘I’m—glad you feel better today.’

Her lashes lowered. ‘Well,’ she murmured. ‘At least we know where we stand now.’

Do we? he wondered on his athletic dash back to Celestrial. Where did
he
stand? Or was he floating on high above the moon? Wherever, it felt like a very unstable, rocky location, for a man used to navigating space without fear. But he was getting married in just a few short hours. Exciting, the night ahead. Crazy, perhaps even dangerous, but it was a long time since he’d felt so exhilarated.

So—
alive.

T
HE
lobby at the Park Hyatt was so busy with the midweek arrivals and departures of guests, that in all the bustle no one seemed to notice when Ariadne dropped off to sleep behind her magazine. Eventually something woke her, and her immediate panicked thought was that she’d forgotten to phone Sebastian. She calmed down when she realised it was only three, and made for the public phone.

The licence had been arranged, Sebastian informed her, and his PA had been working on the wedding all day long. A celebrant had been located, and Sebastian would pick her up just before five. Ariadne galvanised herself to action, retrieving her suitcase from the concierge and taking it to the Ladies’ to search for a more appropriate wedding outfit.

The amazing success of her gamble at the café had left her feeling exhilarated at first, then caution had crept in. Her financial problems were all about to be solved, but the possibilities of what might happen after the wedding began to consume her. Sebastian was no preening butterfly, vacillating between mistresses. If he wanted a woman, she felt sure he’d be direct about it. She thought of his straight dark gaze, and a flame curled her insides.

He desired her all right, she realised with an accelerating heartbeat. Would he expect her to sleep with him when it was
merely a marriage of convenience? Without the blessing of the church?

She should have talked about it to him at the café. She wished she’d had the poise to bring it up at once and deal with it gracefully. Somehow, she’d have to try to settle it before the ceremony.

How easy would it be to talk to him about the delicate subject? Last night on the phone he’d had no trouble talking about his attraction to her, but she doubted she’d ever be able to say things like that.

She’d always dreamed her husband would be someone she knew very well, someone who understood her and loved her, even so. With a grimace she realised that so far neither of her potential bridegrooms had fitted the profile.

She chose one of the little suits she’d had made in the Rue du Fauborg St Honoré for her intended honeymoon with Demetri. It was cream with the palest of pink and blue threads running through it, and thin edgings of cream lace at the cuffs and lapels. It cinched in at the waist and buttoned at her breast, with a hint of cleavage just visible. She’d never worn it, so it wasn’t as tainted as some of the clothes she’d discarded from her trousseau.

This wasn’t a wedding in the true sense but, even so, she wanted to look pretty. She wound her hair into a loose bun and threaded a blue ribbon through it.

When Sebastian arrived, for the first few moments she felt quite overwhelmed. He’d gone to so much trouble, she was momentarily speechless. He looked so handsome and austere in a beautifully tailored black three-piece suit, elegant white shirt and white silk tie with a silver stripe, like a genuine bridegroom. Somehow, though, the fine clothes only made her more aware of the raw animal man confined inside.

He swept her with a hot shimmering gaze that sent a wild surge through her veins.

When she’d collected herself, she said, ‘You look
gor
—Very wedding-i-fied.’

Amusement gleamed in his eyes, but there was a searing sensual intensity in them that told her clearly what was uppermost in his mind. When he spoke his voice deepened.

‘Likewise.’

Her nerves jumped. Maybe it was her imagination, but the air seemed rife with sexual vibrations. He bent to kiss her, and his sexy lips missed her mouth and just brushed her cheek. Even so her senses spun into dizzy overload.

He took her bags and piled them into the boot of his car, then held the door for her. ‘Ready?’

As they swept out of the drive of the Park Hyatt into the maze of city streets she felt a moment of deep insecurity. She hardly knew him. What had she let herself in for?

After only a few twists and turns through the heavy traffic—hair-raising to someone used to driving on the other side of the road—he swerved into the kerb and parked. He hustled her out of the car and onto the street, and she was faced with the façade of the jewellery boutique she’d braved that morning.

She gulped. ‘Oh. Are we going in there?’

‘We need to pick up our rings. Come on,’ he said, shepherding her relentlessly through the doors. ‘They’re expecting us.’

She reminded herself she was wearing different clothes. Perhaps they wouldn’t recognise her. Once inside the glossy interior, she glanced about at the sales people, then tried to nudge Sebastian in the direction of one she hadn’t dealt with in her morning visit.

The attempt was useless, because the manager of the boutique caught sight of them and came out of his office, rubbing his hands. He greeted Sebastian warmly, and looked keenly at her as if she reminded him of someone. To her intense relief, he mentioned nothing about their previous encounter.

Several trays of rings were placed before them. Sebastian was more careful and discerning than she’d expected, considering they were in a hurry. She was so anxious to escape from the shop
she’d have agreed to anything, but they managed at last to find beautiful, plain bands in matching rose gold, Sebastian’s heavy and solid, hers finer and more delicate.

The manager suggested they have them inscribed, and surprisingly Sebastian was keen to go to the trouble. There was a small discussion, and in the end it was decided to have their initials entwined, along with the date and the word ‘Eternity’. She prickled with impatience, desperate not to wait the few extra minutes it would take.

‘What about your engagement ring, though?’ Sebastian said, advancing on a display case bright with diamonds. ‘You should have one of these.’

‘Is that really necessary?’ she exclaimed.

He gave her a firm look. ‘Absolutely, though on second thoughts…No, I think a sapphire. What do you think?’ He smiled, the glow of desire in his gaze. ‘Could there be a sapphire to match those eyes?’ Before she could reply he turned to a hovering sales assistant. ‘Sapphires. Do you mind?’

It was the same man she’d dealt with in the morning.

‘By all means,’ he said with an oily smile. He unlocked a cabinet and laid a tray of blue brilliants before them on the counter. ‘Felicitations, Miss Giorgias. Oh, and…er…did you manage to find a satisfactory broker for your bracelet?’

Sebastian’s surprised gaze swivelled around to examine her face, and she felt herself blush to the roots of her hair. ‘No, no…well, yes…sort of, thank you,’ she mumbled.

‘Very fine stones,’ the assistant murmured. ‘Very fine indeed. Sorry we couldn’t…er…accommodate you.’

The bland apology came too late, and at the worst possible time. She participated in the selection of an exquisite sapphire ring set in diamonds with her brain only half engaged. The other half was busy worrying about Sebastian having been alerted to her desperate situation.

She escaped from the shop, shards of blue fire flashing from
her finger. It was a fine stone, and had cost no mean price for a temporary arrangement. She felt guilty at causing Sebastian such expense, and hoped he could afford it. But at least now he would be able to benefit from her uncle’s deal.

He returned to the car and tossed the package into her lap. He turned to scan her face with his acute dark gaze, but didn’t question her about the sapphires. She might have been imagining it, but he seemed extra silent and thoughtful for the rest of the journey.

After that everything took place at high speed. It was only a brief journey to the home of the wedding celebrant, where Sebastian’s lawyer, Tony, and a woman from his office he introduced as Jenny, were waiting in a small courtyard at the front.

‘Witnesses,’ Sebastian explained.

The men shook hands, and Tony and Jenny kissed Ariadne, just as if she were a real bride. It was just a marriage of convenience, she kept reminding herself. She had made that clear, hadn’t she?

They were about to ring the doorbell when Sebastian made a small exclamation and hurried back to the car. He returned with a bouquet of pink and white roses, fragrant with white stars of jasmine and orange blossom.

‘Here,’ he said. ‘Hold this.’

While Ariadne clutched it, he nipped off a rosebud and tried to thread it through his buttonhole, his sculpted, masculine lips pursed in concentration. Everyone watched while he struggled. Eventually he stuck it in place at a slightly crazy angle. No one else offered to fix it, and in the end Ariadne was forced to give the bouquet to Jenny and fix it herself.

She stepped close to him, searingly conscious of the thinness of the layers of clothes between her breasts and his bare chest, the seductive shadow on his smooth-shaven jaw. As she performed the intimate little task before the interested onlookers, she felt his sensual gaze on her face, and knew she was going pink.

‘There,’ she said, risking meeting his eyes for a soul-scorching instant. He might have kissed her then, but he didn’t. He was thinking of it though, she knew with a sudden certainty. Thinking of that, and the time after the ceremony when she would be his legal wife.

The celebrant, a middle-aged woman with a pleasant face, greeted them and ushered them all through the house to the garden in the rear.

The small party stood on a smooth velvet lawn in the rays of the setting sun. The hill sloped down to the sea, but Ariadne hardly registered the beauty of the surroundings. The entire event had taken on a surreal quality.

Sebastian was quiet, his face grave, but every time their eyes met his held a dark, possessive gleam that reached into her in some deeply stirring, primeval way she’d never experienced before with a man.

She was in such a haze she was hardly aware of the words of the ceremony. ‘I, Ariadne Sarah Christiana…’ she said at one stage. Then there was the moment when Sebastian slid the ring on her finger and promised to love and honour her. The look in his eyes was so intent, so serious, she felt a thrilled clench in her chest.

The celebrant pronounced them man and wife. There was a pause, while all held their breaths. Or it might have been that she was holding hers. Then Sebastian tilted up her face and kissed her. It was a gentle brushing of lips to begin with, then he subtly deepened the pressure. Her senses swayed as she felt him move a hand to her ribs and another to the small of her back.

A slow, sly flame licked through her lower abdomen. Her knees turned to water, and she melted into him, just as she had the night before.

In the nick of time Sebastian broke the kiss before it grew too intense to draw away from. Even so, that licking flame had infected her blood and she was left breathless, and just the slightest
bit intoxicated. She became aware then of cameras flashing, someone throwing rice and confetti, and the dark triumphant gleam in Sebastian’s eyes before his lashes flickered down to screen his gaze.

The wedding feast was in a private room at a restaurant, where toasts were drunk and course after course was placed before her, including a glistening slice of chocolate cherry torte. Tony and Jenny, strangers a few short hours since, were friendly and open and funny, and warmer to her by the minute, though she sensed the slight distance between Jenny and Sebastian that went with boss-employee relationships. Jenny was quite wary of him, Ariadne realised. Perhaps he was an exacting boss.

There was no dancing, no joyous bouzouki and loving celebratory family, but a chance to laugh with some new-found friends soothed her wounded heart and gave her worries some much-needed relief.

Added to that, seething somewhere inside her was a deep vein of excitement, a fever that grew in her blood every time her eyes fell on Sebastian’s hands, or the lean, sinewy wrists bound by his elegant cuffs. Eventually the laughter and conversation reached a point when he said, ‘Come, my sweet. I think it’s time we left, and allowed Tony and Jenny to get on with their evenings.’

My sweet.
That was what men called their wives. Their lovers. His gaze captured hers across the candle flame. He was smiling, his midnight satin eyes aglow with a dark sensual fire.