‘You’re not comfortable eating with me. I noticed that in the restaurant the first night,’ Acheron commented, resting level dark eyes on her rising colour. ‘You’ll have to get over that.’
‘Yes, but it was a strain that first night,’ Tabby admitted, grudgingly opting for honesty. ‘I couldn’t read the menu because my French isn’t up to it. I didn’t even know which cutlery to use.’
A stab of remorse pierced Acheron. It had not even occurred to him that she might feel out of her depth at his favourite restaurant. ‘Cutlery isn’t important, hara mou—’
‘Believe me, it is when you don’t know which utensil to use.’
‘In future, ask.’ Acheron compressed his wide, sensual mouth, irritated that he had been so inconsiderate of the differences between them. ‘I’m not...sensitive. I won’t pick up on things like that unles
s you warn me. By the way, Sharma has engaged last night’s nanny to work for us. I’ve also secured permission for us to take Amber abroad.’
‘Abroad?’ Tabby exclaimed. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘We’re heading to Italy after the wedding. I have a house there. It will be easier to keep up the newly married act without an audience of friends and acquaintances looking on,’ Acheron pointed out with irreproachable practicality.
* * *
Tabby woke early the next morning. Well, it was her wedding day even though it bore no resemblance to the very special event she had once dreamt the occasion would be. For a start, Sonia would not be there to play bridesmaid as the two women had always assumed she would, and momentarily Tabby’s eyes stung with tears because sometimes the pain of losing her best friend felt like a wound that would never heal. She reminded herself that she still had Jack, but Jack was a man of few words and his girlfriend, Emma, was uneasy about his friendship with Tabby. As a result Tabby kept contact with Jack to the minimum. With a sigh, she rolled out of bed to go and tend to Amber and get dressed.
The nanny, Melinda, was in Amber’s bedroom. Tabby had forgotten about the nanny, forgotten that she was no longer the only person available to care for the little girl, and Amber was already bathed, dressed and fed. A little pang of regret assailed Tabby because she had always enjoyed giving Amber her first peaceful feed of the day. But Sonia’s daughter still greeted her with uninhibited love and affection, and Tabby buried her nose in the little girl’s sweet-smelling hair and breathed deep, reminding herself why she was marrying Acheron and meeting his every demand. Amber was worth almost any sacrifice, she conceded feelingly.
The ceremony was to be held at an exclusive castle hotel, and Tabby was amazed at how much it had been possible to arrange at such speed. Then she reminded herself that Acheron’s wealth would have ensured special attention and she scolded herself for being so naive.
Sharma had arranged for a hairstylist and a make-up artist to attend her at the apartment, and Tabby hoped that their professional skill would give her at least a hint of the glossy sophistication that Acheron’s female companions usually exuded. As quick as she thought that, she wondered why his opinion should matter to her. Was it simply a matter of pride?
Sharma helped lace Tabby into her dress while the stylist adjusted the short flirty veil attached to the circlet of fresh flowers attached to Tabby’s hair.
‘With those flowers on your head you look like the Queen of Summer...’ Sharma burbled enthusiastically. ‘Mr Dimitrakos will be blown away.’
It dawned on Tabby for the first time that she was dealing with someone who thought she was about to attend a genuine wedding and she flushed with discomfiture, quite certain that the last thing Acheron would be was ‘blown away’.
‘And watching the boss go to so much trouble to get married in such a hurry is so romantic,’ Sharma continued. ‘I used to think he was so...er, cold, no offence intended...and then I saw him with the baby and realised how wrong I was. Of course fatherhood does change a man...’
And Tabby registered that Sharma had, not unnaturally, added two and two to make five in her assumption that Acheron was Amber’s father. ‘Actually, Amber is the daughter of my late best friend and Acheron’s cousin,’ she explained, deeming it wiser to put the other woman right on that score.
* * *
Grim-faced, Acheron paced while he awaited the arrival of the bridal car. He was very tense. It might be a fake wedding but with the arrival of his stepmother, Ianthe, and two of her adult children along with several good friends, it felt unnervingly real and he was already fed up with making polite conversation and pretending to be a happy bridegroom. Unhappily, a wedding without guests would not have been a very convincing affair, he reminded himself impatiently, and at least the woman whose attendance would have been least welcome had failed to show up. Stationed by the window of the function room adorned with flowers for the ceremony, he watched as a limousine embellished with white ribbons that fluttered in the breeze drew up at the hotel entrance.
Tabby stepped out in a sleek bell of rustling white fabric and petticoats, little shoulders bare, her veil and glorious streamers of golden-blonde hair blowing back from her oval face. Acheron’s expressive mouth hardened even more, a nerve pulling taut at the corner of his lips. She looked as dainty and delicate as a doll and utterly ravishing, he noted in exasperation, cursing his all-too-male response to so feminine and alluring an image. Tabby didn’t just clean up well, in Stevos’s parlance; she cleaned up spectacular, Acheron conceded wryly, only absently registering the emergence of the new nanny clutching Amber, who was looking similarly festive in a candy-pink dress and matching hairband.
Tabby was guided straight into the ceremony where music was already playing. Her apprehensive glance took in the sea of faces and then lodged on Acheron and stayed there as if padlocked. Whoosh! She could feel all her defences being sucked away by the pure power of his compelling presence. He stared back at her, making no pretence of looking forward to the registrar, his stunning dark eyes golden and bright as sunlight in his lean face and so gorgeous he made something low in her body clench tight like a fist. Knees a tad wobbly, she walked down the short aisle between the seated guests and stilled by his side, the words of the brief ceremony washing over her while she frantically reminded herself that finding Acheron attractive was a one-way trip to disaster and not to be risked lest it should somehow threaten Amber’s future as well.
He slid a ring onto her finger and she did the same for him. Afterwards, he retained his grip on her hand, ignoring her attempt to tug gently free, and suddenly there was a crowd of people round them murmuring congratulations, and introductions were being made.
His stepmother was a decorative blonde with a shrill voice and she had a son and a daughter by her side, both of whom seemed rather in awe of Acheron, which gave Tabby the impression that he had never been a true part of his father’s family. Jack appeared with his girlfriend, Emma, and the other woman was friendlier than Tabby had ever seen her. Tabby chatted at length to Jack and turned only to find Acheron studying her, his handsome mouth compressed.
‘Who was that?’
‘Jack’s an old friend and the only person I invited,’ she proclaimed defensively.
‘How much did you tell him?’ Acheron enquired grimly.
‘I told him nothing,’ Tabby responded, wondering what his problem was. ‘He thinks this is all for real.’
Drinks were being poured and toasts made by the time a tall, curvy brunette in a sapphire-blue suit swept into the room without warning.
Someone close to Tabby vented a groan. The brunette marched up to them like a woman on a mission and shot an outraged look at Acheron’s stepmother, Ianthe. ‘Mother, how could you take part in this insane charade when it goes against my interests?’ she demanded loudly. ‘I should have been the bride here today!’