She grew pinker.
Nikos wanted to shake his head. How had he, of all people, ended up with a woman like Maggie? Innocent, gauche. But surprising.
She surprised him now.
‘Do you not enjoy social occasions?’ she asked.
For the first time in his life Nikos was aware of a sense of reluctance about walking into a room full of people and...performing. Because that was what he’d been doing all his life. Performing to try and make his grandparents love him. Rebelling to make his father notice him. Charming and smiling and seducing his way through endless parties, functions and events and women, to perpetuate the myth of being a playboy while taking advantage of anyone who underestimated him.
He was inclined to give Maggie some pithy response, but he surprised himself by saying, ‘Would you believe me if I said not as much as people might think?’
Maggie regarded him and shook her head slowly. ‘No, I believe you. Why do you do it, then?’
Nikos shrugged, feeling the need to escape Maggie’s piercing blue gaze. Was it more piercing this evening? Because of the artful make-up that had elevated her from beautiful to breathtaking?
‘It’s expected of me. It’s an integral part of the world I grew up in and the business we have only enhances that.’
‘You’d really have me believe that all these countless premieres and parties where you’re photographed with beautiful women are pure torture for you, then?’
Nikos suspected that Maggie had intended that to sound lighter than it had. She looked self-conscious. It reminded him that she was different.
He took her hand and laced her fingers with his, feeling the inevitable tug of desire. ‘They’re not torture, no. It would be disingenuous to claim that. But those women were passing fancies. Diversions.’
He saw her expression change as his meaning sank in. They might be announcing their engagement tonight, but he still wasn’t in the market for anything deep and meaningful.
She pulled her hand from his and looked away—and then she tensed. ‘Oh, my God—is that where we’re going?’
Nikos looked out of the window to see a hotel entrance lit up like Mardi Gras by the popping flashbulbs of photographers, which were almost out-dazzling the shimmering dresses and jewels of the guests being disgorged onto the red carpet.
‘Yes, that’s it.’
He looked at Maggie again and saw she was deathly pale.
He took her hand. ‘Maggie, look at me.’
She tore her gaze from the scene they were fast approaching. ‘I don’t think I can do this.’
‘Just hold my hand and smile. We’re going to stop for a couple of pictures. All you have to do is smile, okay?’
For the first time Nikos felt a prickle of unease. He hadn’t really considered what jumping into the deep end would be like for Maggie. Now he felt protective, and it was disconcerting.
Maggie nodded. She looked terrified.
He said, ‘Relax. It’ll be fine. I promise.’
The car stopped and the door was opened by an usher.
Nikos said, ‘Wait there. I’ll help you out.’
Maggie’s heart was palpitating so hard she felt light-headed. She hadn’t really considered the enormity of what this would be like. She’d had some notion that they’d walk anonymously into a function room. Not be paraded in front of the world’s media.
Nikos was waiting, holding out a hand. Reluctantly she reached for it and let him help her out. The dress fell around her legs and she walked carefully in the high heels, not used to them, clinging to Nikos’s arm to stay upright as much as to disguise her trembling limbs.
They were approaching the entrance now, lined on either side by photographers. Then they stepped onto the red carpet and the world exploded into blinding light.
‘Nikos! Nikos!’
Maggie was in shock, clinging on to Nikos as voices came at her from all sides. She couldn’t understand French, which was probably a good thing. She felt like Alice in Wonderland—as if she’d landed in a new and scary universe.