‘Okay?’
She looked deep into those golden eyes and felt her heart skip a beat. She nodded minutely. Max cupped her face with his hand and rubbed a thumb across her lower lip. Her body clamoured, telling her how much she’d missed his touch.
And then he tensed. Darcy looked to the side to see a tall dark man with possibly the most beautiful woman she’d ever seen in her life. White-blonde hair and piercing ice-blue eyes. But they were warm, and the woman was smiling at Darcy.
Max took his hand away from her jaw and stood straight. She could feel the tension in his form. ‘Darcy, I’d like you to meet Luca Fonseca, my brother, and his wife Serena.’
Max’s twin was as tall, and as powerfully built as he was, but much darker, with black hair and dark blue eyes.
Darcy shook hands with both of them and Serena came closer to say, ‘Your dress is beautiful.’
Darcy made a small face, feeling completely inadequate in the presence of this goddess. ‘I felt less might be more, considering it was a registry office wedding.’
Serena made a sound of commiseration and said, ‘My husband and I had a beach wedding, just us and close family, and I can’t tell you how relieved I was not to be paraded down some aisle like a wind-up doll.’
Darcy let out a little laugh, surprised that she was so warm and friendly. She felt a pang to realise that she probably wouldn’t ever meet her again after this.
A staff member interrupted them to let them know that everyone was ready for Max and Darcy to make their entrance as a married couple. Luca and Serena went inside and Darcy took a deep breath, glad that it was only a handful of guests. Max took her hand and she pasted a bright smile on her face as they walked into a welcome of clapping and cheers.
They were soon separated and caught up in a round of congratulations and chatter. Darcy felt even more like a fraud, aware of Max’s tall form on the other side of the room as he spoke to his brother. She felt as if she had ‘fake bride’ emblazoned on her forehead.
When there was a lull Serena surprised her by coming over and handing her a glass of champagne.
Darcy took a grateful sip. ‘Thanks, I needed that.’
Serena frowned minutely. ‘Are you okay? You look a little pale.’
Darcy smiled weakly. ‘It’s just been a bit of a whirlwind two weeks.’
Serena was about to say something when her husband Luca appeared at her side and wound his arm possessively around her waist. They shared a look so intimate that Darcy felt like a voyeur. And something worse: envy.
To Darcy’s intense relief a gong sounded then, indicating that lunch would be served. She siezed on the excuse to break away and find her seat, and pushed down the gnawing sense of emptiness that had no place here, at a fake wedding.
* * *
The tension that gripped Max whenever he saw his brother had eased somewhat by the time they were sipping fragrant coffee after lunch. He looked around at the guests at the long table. He and Darcy were at the head and she was leaning towards the man on her left, one of Max’s accountants.
This wedding was putting him in pole position to achieve everything he’d ever wanted: the ultimate respect among his peers. So why wasn’t he feeling a sense of triumph? Why on earth was he preoccupied with his very fake wife and how delectable she looked in her wedding dress? How he’d like to peel it bit by bit from that luscious body?
At that moment he spied his brother and his wife, sitting halfway down the table. They were side by side and looking at one another with utter absorption. It made something dark twist inside him.
He shouldn’t have invited them. All anyone would have to do would be to look at Luca and Serena and realise how flimsy the façade of his marriage to Darcy was.
Once again his brother was effortlessly proving Max’s lack. And worse was the evidence that whatever blows Luca had been dealt in his life they hadn’t touched some deep part of him, tainting him for ever. For the first time, Max felt more than envy—he felt hollow.
‘What is it? You look as if you’re about to murder someone.’
The low voice came close to his ear and Max turned his head to see Darcy’s face, a small frown between her eyes. He felt exposed—and frustrated. There was a futile sense of rage in his gullet that was old and dark, harking back to that one cataclysmic day in his childhood. Still to be bound by that day was galling.
He acted instinctively—seeking something he couldn’t put a name to. Perhaps an antidote to the darkness inside him. An escape from the demons nipping at his heels. He uncurled his hand and put it around Darcy’s waist, tugging her into him before claiming her mouth in a kiss that burned like wildfire through his veins.
It didn’t bring escape, though. It brought carnal hunger, and a need that only she seemed able to tap into. Incensed that she could do this to him so easily—and here, in front of witnesses—made Max deepen the embrace. He felt rather than heard Darcy’s moan as both hands moved around her back.
Eventually some sliver of sanity seemed to pierce the heat haze in his brain and he pulled back. Darcy took a second to open her eyes. Her mouth was pink and swollen, her breasts moving rapidly against him.
And then he saw her come to her senses. Those blue eyes went from hot to cold in seconds and she tried to pull free, but Max didn’t let her go, keeping her attention on him.
Darcy couldn’t seem to suck enough oxygen into her heaving lungs. When she could, she hissed at Max, ‘What the hell was that little caveman move?’