The Secret to Marrying Marchesi

Nicole paused, her eyelids fluttering up to meet his gaze. ‘Well, don’t you?’

Rigo shook his head, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. ‘Before last night, maybe. But I’m coming to see that I’ve been very quick to judge you.’

‘Well, I suppose I should be thankful for that, at least.’

‘Nicole, I can see why you want to walk away from this marriage now. But I’m asking you to reconsider. For Anna, if nothing else.’

‘We proved to each other last night that we can’t be civil or separate in this arrangement. We’re just not good for each other,’ she said quietly.

He was quiet for a moment, looking out the window. ‘Nicole, I want this marriage to work. If that means me staying as far away as possible then I will do it. To keep you and Anna safe.’

She looked into his eyes. He was being earnest. But she didn’t want him to stay away at all—that was the problem. She walked away from him, crossing her arms over her chest as she followed the progress of one errant raindrop down the window. Within a matter of seconds it had begun to pour, the landscape turning a dull grey.

She knew that backing out of their arrangement had been a decision made in the heat of the moment. Marrying Rigo was the best choice for Anna and it always would be. Looking into his eyes, she could feel the shift between them—not quite enemies any longer, but it had put them in a kind of limbo. He made her feel off balance...as if simply being around him for too long put her at risk of making a fool of herself all over again.

‘Send the staff away,’ she said suddenly. ‘Just until we leave for the wedding. Give them extended holiday leave. Then there will be no need for us to share a bed. We can each have our space until the wedding is over.’

‘Consider it done.’ Rigo nodded once, his face completely unreadable.

‘Thank you.’ Nicole took a deep breath, feeling decidedly less filled with dread than she had this morning. And yet she still felt that same tug of unease in the back of her mind. As if somehow by putting more distance between them she was denying herself something vital. But she didn’t need Rigo’s kisses in her life, and she definitely didn’t need him in her bed. Sleeping or otherwise. Boundaries were the only thing protecting her from the damage this man could do to her if she ever let him close again. This was safe.

* * *

Nicole looked down at the slim diamond-encrusted watch on her wrist and felt her anxiety peak. The rehearsal dinner was due to start in twenty minutes and Rigo hadn’t arrived yet. His entire family was downstairs, waiting to meet his bride-to-be for the first time, and she couldn’t hide up here a moment longer.

She hadn’t seen him for more than a passing greeting in the past weeks, since the magazine debacle. True to his word, he’d had Diane fired and a new journalist had taken her place. The interview had gone without a hitch and now the whole world was geared up and waiting with bated breath to witness the wedding of the decade.

She took in her reflection in the mirror, frowning at the lines between her brows. Her mother had always told her that frowning and laughing too much was a recipe for crow’s feet. She shrugged off the thought. Her mother was the last person she needed to be thinking of right now. She was probably down there already, guzzling champagne and on the lookout for husband number eight.

As expected, the PR team had advised that Goldie should not be kept out of the celebrations, to avoid any negative speculation. Well, that was their official standpoint, but Nicole had a feeling that Rigo didn’t want her mother tempted to do any more anonymous interviews before his Fournier deal was put through. The last thing they needed was more scandal.

The secret location for their wedding had been leaked in the past week, but Rigo had assured her that an increased security presence would deter any would-be paparazzi gatecrashers. Truth be told, it didn’t worry her too much. Anna was staying put in Paris until Nicole returned to collect her for their honeymoon.

Forty-eight hours apart seemed like a lifetime right now, but she knew she had done the right thing. Rigo had told her his parents were waiting impatiently to meet their first grandchild, having just returned from the Indian Ocean that morning. He hadn’t spoken of his father much, but she’d got the impression that his family dynamic was one of ease. She just hoped that she gave a better impression to them than she had given to his brother on their first meeting.

Nicole walked down the sweeping staircase, taking in the throng of guests in the chateau’s large reception area. She stood alone at the bottom, looking around for a familiar face and cursing her fiancé. She recognised some of the faces from their engagement party, but without Rigo to smooth the way she felt small and insignificant. Technically, she was the hostess—she should be commanding the event. And yet she wanted nothing more than to run back up the stairs and hide.