Her golden gaze meshed with his. ‘Yes, I suppose…’
Whatever else she might have said was lost as Lucas covered her mouth with his own, his tongue prising her lips apart, thrusting and tasting with a simmering sensuality, again and again.
‘This is becoming a habit,’ a laughing Joe exclaimed. ‘Break it up, you two, it is late.’
Lucas groaned, and lifted his head. He eased his hand from Amber’s nape but still kept his arm around her waist. ‘We appear to be the floor show, sweetheart,’ he husked, brushing the long fall of her chestnut hair carefully back off her face.
‘Oh, heavens!’ Blushing bright red, Amber tried to ease away, horribly aware the music was no longer playing, and everyone was watching them with varying degrees of amusement.
Lucas grinned and, clasping her around the waist with both hands, he stepped back, his dark eyes, blazing with masculine triumph, flicking over her. ‘It’s all right, you look decent,’ he murmured huskily. ‘But Joe is right. It is late, and I have to leave you before the witching hour, according to your father. If I want to be lucky, and I am going to be lucky tomorrow night…’ He arched one ebony brow wickedly.
Amber’s blush could have lit the room. She walked back to the table with Lucas on legs that shook. Any thought of trying to pretend she was immune to him was banished for ever from her brain.
‘Well, any lingering doubts I had about the haste of this wedding are well and truly put to rest, old man.’ Sir David slapped Lucas on the back. ‘But in future I would try to be a little more circumspect, if I were you.’ He chuckled.
‘I will, Sir,’ Lucas agreed and the two men exchanged a very masculine smug grin. ‘And look after Amber for me until tomorrow.’ Bending his dark head, he pressed a swift kiss on her brow. ‘Go to bed. It’s late.’
She did not need looking after, nor did she need to be told to go to bed. But, then again, after the exhibition she had just made of herself, maybe she did.
Noon the next day Amber stood in front of the dressing mirror, and barely recognised herself. The sides of her long hair had been swept up into an intricate crown of curls threaded through with perfect white rosebuds and tiny satin ribbons, and the rest left to fall in gentle curls down her back. Her make-up was light but perfect. The wedding dress was a dream, the soft fabric draped narrowly across her shoulders, exposing just a hint of the creamy mounds of her breasts. Cut on the bias, it shimmied across the shapely length of her body to end at her ankles in a scalloped border embroidered in a rose pattern. She glanced around the havoc of the room, and smiled at the three young bridesmaids. They were standing in a stiff line, terrified of spoiling their finery; their dresses flounced like crinolines from fitted waists and copied the embroidery of the bridal gown.
Someone handed Amber a posy of ivory roses mixed with baby’s breath and her father appeared at her side, resplendent in a pale grey suit.
‘You look beautiful, Amber. I am so proud to be your father and I want you to know—I deeply regret all the wasted years when I was not there for you. Especially now when I am losing you again.’ Tears glazed her golden eyes, and she sniffed as he took her hand and tugged it under his arm, adding, ‘Time to go, Amber.’
Suddenly the enormity of what she was about to do hit her and for a second she panicked. ‘But I don’t even know where I am going,’ Amber wailed.
Hoots of laughter greeted her comment and someone shouted, ‘Joe has it all arranged,’ as everyone moved towards the door.
Amber gasped—it was like something out of a Hollywood movie. Joe had done a superb job. A secluded corner of the vast gardens of the hotel was set out with chairs for the guests, the centre aisle leading to a raised dais covered with a delicate arched pergola beautifully decorated with hundreds of tiny white roses and vines.
The three little girls were solemnly walking down the aisle sprinkling rose petals from decorated baskets, and then it was Amber’s turn.
Straightening her shoulders, Amber took a tighter grasp of her father’s arm and stepped forward, her gaze fixed on the tall black-haired man standing with his back to her in front of the celebrant. Then he turned to watch her approach.
The clear blue sky and the blinding sun added to Amber’s feeling of unreality and only hazily was she aware of the guests seated either side of the aisle, her glance captured by Lucas’s intent, unwavering gaze. He was magnificent in an immaculate pale grey silk suit, and white shirt, and a grey silk tie shot through with blue. His thick black hair had been neatly trimmed and he looked exactly what he was: a mature, sophisticated Greek businessman, while Amber, on the other hand, was shaking like a jelly with nerves.
It was stupid, she knew. She’d lived with the man for a year, for heaven’s sake! She should not be intimidated by what was really a simple civil ceremony—it was not as if she were marrying him for life.
But as her father left her at Lucas’s side, Amber knew that for her it would be a life sentence. She would never love any man the way she loved Lucas. Looking up into his darkly handsome face, she had to blink hard to stop emotional tears blinding her eyes. ‘You’ve had your hair cut.’ She said the first thing that came into her head to cover her emotions.
His black eyes widened in surprise and then his lips parted over brilliant white teeth in a beaming s
mile. ‘I’m so glad you noticed,’ he murmured for her ears only. ‘I was afraid you might have changed your mind, and not deign to look at me.’
Lucas afraid was a novel notion, but she did not have time to dwell on it as she listened to the celebrant and surprisingly a priest appeared. Amber was too nervous to take much in but she must have made the right response. Lucas took hold of her hand and slipped a gold band on her ring finger, and indicated she should return the favour by placing a ring on his finger. Surprised he would want to wear a ring, she glanced up and was captivated by the blaze of emotion in his dark eyes. She hesitated for a moment and Lucas covered her hand with his free one and helped her slip the ring on his finger.
‘My wife at last,’ he murmured. Then gathered her into his arms and kissed her. It was a kiss like no other, firm but tender, sensual and seeking. Amber’s head swam, her pulse raced, her full lips parting to welcome him.
‘Break it up, you two. You still have plenty of time for that later. We have to party.’
To Amber’s chagrin, once again it was Joe who’d brought them back to their senses. Flushing scarlet, she glanced wildly around at all the grinning faces, then tilted her head to look up at Lucas.
‘You really are a blushing bride now,’ Lucas said wryly. ‘My fault—I got carried away.’ Her heart gave a curious lurch at seeing the glittering intensity of his gaze, igniting sparks of sensual awareness through her whole body. ‘But you are the most beautiful bride. I don’t have the words to tell you how much it means to me you are mine.’ His voice was thickened with emotion and he lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed the wedding band.
Amber wanted to believe his sentiment was genuine but, tearing her eyes from his, she mumbled, ‘Yes, well, thank you.’ She loved him but trusting him again was something else…
The speeches were over, and the wedding reception had taken on the air of a joyous feast. Lucas led Amber from one table to another to say their goodbyes. Amber was stunned at the number of people. Lucas appeared to have a remarkable number of friends, all Greek, and as she could not speak the language she simply nodded and smiled.