Appalled by his mother’s innocent expectations, Alesia felt a sick feeling build in the pit of her stomach.
Grandchildren.
And that, of course, was the one thing she was never going to be able to provide. She closed her eyes and told herself firmly that it didn’t bother her what the Fiorukis family wanted. She hated them. She hated her grandfather and she hated their stupid feud. In fact she hated everything Greek because it embodied everything that had ruined her mother’s life.
So why was she suddenly struck by conscience?
Sebastien lounged in his seat, watching his new bride through veiled eyes.
He considered himself something of an expert on the avarice of women, but even he was astonished by her almost indecent desire to get her hands on his money.
He was used to women who at least pretended to be interested in something other than his wallet but Alesia, it seemed, couldn’t even be bothered to pretend. It was the only question she’d asked him. The only piece of information it seemed she needed of him. ‘Has the money been transferred to my account?’
Her total desperation shone through. All through the ceremony she’d been pale and anxious, her agitation so palpable that he’d started to wonder whether something was seriously the matter with his bride.
Anyone looking at her would think she needed the money.
He gave a grim smile, knowing full well that ‘need’ was a relative term and to the Philipos heiress need clearly encompassed greed of a magnitude that even he had failed to encounter in the past.
Aware that his mother was still watching them, he tried to find a mutually satisfying topic of conversation and drew a blank. ‘So tell me,’ he breathed sarcastically, relieved that his mother was not skilled in lip-reading, ‘what will be your first purchase with your newfound wealth? A thousand pairs of designer shoes or something bigger? A yacht, maybe? A racehorse or two?’
She lifted her eyes from the contemplation of her untouched plate of food and stared at him blankly. ‘Pardon?’
He frowned down at her, noticing for the first time the dark smudges under her eyes. Clearly she hadn’t slept for nights. Probably worrying that the deal would fall through, he mused.
‘I was asking how you plan to spend my money,’ he repeated, realizing with a flash of surprise that she was paying him not the slightest bit of attention. He almost smiled at the irony of the situation. He was accustomed to employing a variety of skills designed to keep women at a distance and yet the woman he’d just married was having trouble remembering that he existed. ‘I think I should at least know something about my wife.’
‘Oh.’ She frowned as if she were thrown by the question. There was a brief hesitation and something close to panic flashed in her eyes. ‘I—I don’t know yet—I expect I’ll go—shopping?’
Sebastien refrained from pointing out that she truly would have to shop until she dropped if she stood even the faintest chance of spending even a fraction of the money he’d just delivered into her account.
Clearly he wouldn’t be seeing much of his new wife, he mused grimly. To spend that volume of money was going to take a considerable length of time and serious application on her part.
Consumed by an irritation that he didn’t begin to understand, he rose to his feet and extended a hand. ‘Time to earn that money. We’re expected to begin the dancing.’
She stared at him stupidly. ‘Dance? You and I—together?’
He ground his teeth. ‘It’s tradition for man and wife to dance.’ Without giving her time to argue, he hauled her against him and flashed a smile into her shocked face. ‘Time to give the crowd what they’ve been waiting for, pethi mou.’
He strode purposefully on to the dance floor, his arm round her waist in what must have seemed to the wedding guests an affectionate gesture. In fact he was keeping her from running because he knew for a fact that if he released her she would definitely run.
She was staring up at him as if he’d gone completely mad. And perhaps he had, he reflected. After all, he had just married a woman whose values he despised. Hardly the action of a sane man.
‘Smile up at me as if I’m the only man in the world,’ he ordered softly as he stopped in the middle of the dance floor and curved an arm round her waist. ‘We are the focus of attention and I would hate to disappoint our guests.’
‘This is ridiculous.’ Sebastien felt her stiffen, saw her teeth clench. ‘I thought we agreed that we weren’t going to play games. That we were going to be honest with each other.’
‘In private, yes.’ He lowered his face closer to hers so that there was no chance of being overheard. ‘But to the outside world we have to create the right impression. My mother needs to think this marriage is real, the financial markets need to think this marriage is real. So we’re going to make them think it’s real.’