Claiming His Wedding Night

He grinned. ‘Is that right? I’m not sure you’re in any position to be issuing threats here, sweetheart.’ He sighed. ‘However, fortunately for you, life has taught me that there is one absolute unbreakable rule when it comes to staying in hotels.’

He tugged at the knot and she slipped her wrists free.

‘And that is, don’t do anything to upset the housekeeping staff.’

She punched him gently. ‘So letting me go has nothing to do with my persuasive charms, then?’

His eyes were still tinged with passion, but softer now. ‘Believe me, you’re very persuasive, sweetheart, but—’ Grimacing, he sat up and twitched the sheet over her naked body. ‘I have got to go to this meeting.’ Seeing her expression, he shook his head. ‘Don’t look at me like that. I’d love to get out of this but I can’t.’

His hand moved over the sheet, following the contours of her breasts and belly, and she felt her skin grow warm and tingling.

‘You can find out what that feels like later.’ Eyes glittering, he stood up. ‘I’ll even let you choose the tie.’

After he’d left, Addie spent a relaxing two hours in the hotel spa, having a facial and full-body massage. Malachi had left a message telling

her that he had arranged for Lupita, a personal stylist, to come to their suite, and she arrived promptly, with several rails of beautiful clothes, an array of shoes and a box of jewellery that came with an armed bodyguard.

It was exhausting, but enormous fun. Lupita not only seemed to have met everyone who was anyone in Caracas, she was also talented at her job, knowing exactly which outfits would make Addie look and feel good.

Finally having made her choice, all that remained was to get ready.

Smoothing foundation over her skin, she stared at her reflection critically.

It was lucky that people could only see what was on the outside. And she was a lot less nervous about meeting Malachi’s guests than she had been about finally coming face-to-face with his parents.

She applied mascara, blinked and reapplied it.

But being nervous had some advantages. At least it meant she could hardly think straight. Certainly not about what everyone would be saying about her tonight. It had been different at the masked party. Everyone there had been hiding who they were. But tonight there would be reporters and photographers, and Malachi would be looking to generate as much publicity as possible for the opening of his first casino in South America.

Her heart gave a jolt of hope. But what did that mean for her? She knew what she wanted it to mean. She wanted to forget the past—forget this stupid deal and be his wife again.

But it was so much more complicated than that.

Thankfully her hairdresser chose that moment to arrive, and she was able to push aside her troubling thoughts.

An hour later Addie breathed out in relief as the young woman styling her hair stepped back and smiled.

‘You look very beautiful, Ms Farrell.’

Turning her head from side to side, Addie stared into the mirror with pleasure. She had decided, on Lupita’s advice, to put her hair up in a French pleat. It was not something she had ever done before, preferring the simplicity of a ponytail for work or a low chignon for more dressy occasions. But now she was glad she had followed the stylist’s advice.

‘Thank you!’ She smiled up at the hairdresser.

The girl looked pleased. ‘I think Mr King will be very happy,’ she said shyly.

Addie took another quick glance at herself. Hopefully he would. She would soon find out.

* * *

Staring round the casino floor, Malachi felt a rush of satisfaction. The building had been derelict when he’d first seen it. Originally an opera house, it had been abandoned after a fire had damaged most of the stage, and then it had simply been left to decay. Only he had seen its potential. Not as an opera house. The capital city of Venezuela already had one of those. But as a casino.

It had taken six months just to clear the site and make it safe to work in. Another year to rebuild the interior and bring it up to modern health and safety standards. Then another five months painstakingly recreating the original gilded domed ceiling and setting up the casino floor.

His vision had been clear. No cool, contemporary chic. He had wanted old-style glamour. Gilt and glass and glitter. And it had been worth it, he thought triumphantly. It looked incredible: a gilded, show-stopping interior that mixed fin-de-siècle opulence with an unmistakable whiff of the forbidden and decadent.

And yet there was something that didn’t feel quite right. Some detail he had overlooked. Something was missing, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it...

The next moment his uncertainty was forgotten as yet another swathe of local VIPs stepped forward to offer their congratulations. Twenty minutes later, though, he was staring round the room again, the famous King smile in place, while his brain clicked through the evening’s schedule, looking for glitches.