Pandora spread open the door of a room furnished as a nursery but not the usual nursery, Pixie adjusted, scanning in wonderment shelves of new toys and every luxury addition known to early childhood. It was a nursery arranged for a little prince, not a normal toddler. ‘I can’t tell you what a thrill I had furnishing this room for Alfie,’ the older woman explained volubly. ‘I was so excited to find out about him and you and Tor. You and Alfie are exactly what I was hoping would arrive in his life...a new family.’
And you couldn’t get much more of a welcome mat than that, Pixie conceded, warmed to the heart by that little speech and finally appreciating, as her soon-to-be mother-in-law looked yearningly at Alfie and smiled, that her son was so welcome and that she was equally welcome because obviously Tor’s parents had assumed that he had fallen in love again. Any parents that loved their son and had seen him heartbroken by the tragic end to his first marriage would want to see him embark on a fresh relationship. Yet even they didn’t know the truth of how very tragic and soul-destroying that prior marriage had been for Tor, she acknowledged ruefully, because they didn’t know about the infidelity and heartbreak involved.
‘I mustn’t keep you back from your bridal beautifying,’ the older woman remarked with a sudden smile. ‘It’s a wonderfully exciting day for all of us.’
‘She’s lovely,’ Pixie told Eloise when she arrived in the suite of rooms designated as the bridal suite.
‘“Mothers-in-law” and “lovely” don’t go together in the same sentence,’ Eloise told her in dismay at the statement. ‘There’s probably a hidden agenda there and it’ll take time for you to work it out.’
‘I don’t think that’s true this time,’ Pixie said with assurance, because she had recognised the genuine warmth in Tor’s mother. ‘Wait until you meet her properly. I think she’s just happy that her son has found someone and that there’s a grandchild. Alfie’s going to be spoilt rotten.’
A pair of strangers entered, accompanied by a young, very pretty brunette, who seemed to be there to act as an interpreter and who introduced herself as Angelina Raptis, a friend of the family. One of her companions was a hairstylist, Pixie learned, and the other a make-up artist.
‘I don’t wear a lot of make-up,’ Pixie began uncertainly.
‘But today you do,’ Eloise whispered in her ear. ‘Today is special. You want to look your very best and feel good.’
Pixie acquiesced, wanting to at least fit nominally with Tor’s expectations. The stylist wanted to cut and straighten her hair and she mustered the courage to say that she preferred her curls and simply wanted to wear her hair up in some fashion.
‘I love curls. They’re so natural,’ Angelina commented. ‘How brave of you to leave them like that for a formal occasion.’
Encountering the steely glint in the brunette’s eyes and noting the scornful curve of her lips, Pixie reddened and turned her head away again, recognising that Angelina was a bit of a shrew while conceding that she couldn’t expect everyone she met at her wedding to be a genuine friendly well-wisher.
‘I can’t wait to meet your son,’ Angelina told her brightly. ‘Does he look like Tor?’
‘Yes, although he’s fair-haired like me. He has Tor’s eyes though.’
‘A very handsome little boy, then. I admire you for being so calm.’
In the background, Eloise was grimacing but, mercifully, her other friends Denny and Steve had come in to join the bridal preparation team and lighten the mood.
‘Pixie’s looking forward to enjoying a wonderful day,’ Denny said cheerfully, earning a relieved smile from Pixie, who loved his positive attitude.
‘Even with that awful story in the press?’ Angelina burbled, startling Pixie. ‘I really admire your strength, Pixie.’
‘What press? What awful story?’ Pixie repeated in consternation. ‘What are you referring to?’
Denny groaned out loud while Eloise stared at Angelina as though she wanted to strangle her where she stood. ‘Until you spoke up, we were keeping that story to ourselves, flower,’ Denny told Angelina.
‘What story?’ Pixie whispered afresh, her heart sinking although she had done nothing that she knew that she should be ashamed of.
‘Some viper called Saffron sold a story to a tabloid newspaper about the night you met Tor,’ Steve explained. ‘And the newspaper did a little digging and made a fluffy story out of it.’
Saffron—the wannabe actress who had brought Tor back to that house Pixie had temporarily stayed in; Saffron, the redhead he had rejected and a woman who would probably relish publicity exposure. What on earth could she have to say about anything? Had she seen Tor leaving the bedroom the next morning? That was the only explanation, Pixie decided unhappily.
‘Let me see it,’ she said to Denny, who was already tapping his phone.
‘I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to upset anyone,’ Angelina said plaintively.
‘You don’t dump that sort of stuff on a bride,’ Steve said stiffly.
‘I’m sure you didn’t mean anything by it,’ Pixie said politely, forgivingly, her heart racing until Denny had handed her his phone and she glimpsed a very glamorous photo of Saffron next to a brief article about the billionaire banker about to marry the nurse he had got pregnant on a one-night stand. News of her pregnancy had probably got back to Saffron by way of her housemate, Steph, who had given Pixie her cat, Coco. Steph was also the sister of one of Pixie’s former colleagues. A stray piece of gossip had probably exposed Pixie’s secret pregnancy, she thought heavily, and Saffron had put two and two together to register that they made a very neat four.
‘Then I suppose that I shouldn’t say that Tor is absolutely furious,’ Angelina revealed. ‘Look, I feel awkward now... I’ll leave you to get dressed with your friends.’
‘And you’ll not be making a friend of that toxic piece,’ Eloise breathed wrathfully.
‘If there’s nothing untrue in the article I’ll just have to live with it,’ Pixie pronounced with a stiff smile as she struggled to conceal how mortified she was that Tor’s family and friends should have access to the bare shameless facts of their first meeting. ‘Let’s just forget about it for now.’
‘Why on earth would Tor be furious?’ Eloise scoffed.
‘Because I expect he likes his private life to stay private, like me.’ Pixie sighed as the make-up artist fluttered around her, one soft brush after another tickling her brow bone and her cheeks and every other part of her face.
‘You’re going to look totally amazing,’ Eloise told her bracingly.
Denny
gave her a fond appraisal. ‘A complete princess...’
‘A trophy bride,’ Steve completed, not to be outdone on the soothing-compliment front.
After presenting her with a beautiful bouquet of roses, Hallas Sarantos accompanied her down to the church in the village down by the harbour. They travelled in a flower-bedecked vintage car that he confided belonged to him as he admitted to a passion for classic cars. Pixie thanked him for all that he and his wife had done to make the wedding possible, and then she was stepping out with a smile into the warmth and brightness of the day outside the small village church. Her smile lurched a little when she saw how packed the church was and the sea of faces that turned to look at her because being so much the centre of attention unnerved her.
Instead, she chose to gaze down the aisle at Tor and, reassuringly, he didn’t look angry, only his usual cool self-possessed self. And so incredibly handsome that he stole her breath away at that moment just as he had the very first time she saw him, her attention lingering on the slashing black sweep of his brows, the sculpted high cheekbones that lent his features that perfect definition, the straight nose and the masculine fullness of his sensual mouth. It was as if looking at him lit a whole row of little fires inside her, flushing her face with warmth, filling the more sensitive areas of her body with heat and sexual awareness.
There was a smile in the stunning bronzed eyes that met hers at the altar, no, not absolutely furious about anything, Pixie decided, liberated from that apprehension. If he even knew about the newspaper piece, and she doubted that he did, it evidently hadn’t annoyed him in the slightest. He eased the wedding ring over her knuckle and the ceremony was complete. Tor had become her husband and she was now his wife, a conclusion that still shook her.