Taken by the Millionaire: Hotly Bedded, Conveniently Wedded. Kate Hardy

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Taken by the Millionaire: Hotly Bedded, Conveniently Wedded - Kate Hardy


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paper from the inside pocket of his jacket, and unfolded it. With a tender look at Isobel, he said:

       ‘May the sun bring you new happiness by day;

       May the moon softly restore you by night;

       May the rain wash away your worries

       And the breeze blow new strength into your being,

       And all the days of your life

       May you walk gently through the world and know its beauty.

       Now you will feel no rain,

       For each of you will be the shelter for each other.

       Now you will feel no cold,

       For each of you will be the warmth for the other.

       Now you are two persons,

       But there is only one life before.

       Go now to your dwelling place to enter

       Into the days of your life together.

       And may your days be good and long upon the earth’

      Everyone clapped loudly.

      ‘Hear, hear,’ Marcia said. ‘Stuart, that’s so lovely.’

      Isobel had a lump in her throat. She glanced at Alex, who tightened his fingers round hers.

      ‘Thank you, Stuart,’ Alex said.

      Even his eyes were smiling, Isobel thought. As if he’d married her for real.

      Well, it was legally real. Just not the great love match everyone believed it was.

      Tom stood up, next. ‘I’m more of a figures man than a words man,’ he said ruefully, ‘so I can’t come up with anything anywhere near as pretty as Stuart. So I’m going just to keep it short and sweet. Welcome to the family, Bel—though we’ve thought of you as part of our family for years anyway, we’re so pleased that you’re officially ours now. And may you both be very happy. I’d like everyone to join me in raising their glasses in a toast. Bel and Alex.’

      ‘Bel and Alex,’ everyone echoed, raising their glasses of champagne.

      In response, Alex kissed Isobel. Very, very thoroughly.

      ‘SEEING as our dads have made such nice speeches,’ Alex said, ‘maybe I will say a few words.’

      ‘About time, too,’ Helen teased.

      ‘I just want to thank you all for being here. For sharing our special day—and for all the help beforehand, especially from our mums and Saskia. I know it’s traditional for the bride and groom to give gifts to their parents and ring-bearer and what have you—but I loathe giving gifts in public,’ Alex said, ‘so you’ll find our thanks to you back in your respective hotel rooms. And the train set is for the boys to keep, by the way,’ he added to his middle sisters. ‘There should be enough track and trains for it to be a decent set each when split in two.’

      ‘Alex, that’s so sweet of you.’ Polly smiled at him. ‘Thank you.’

      ‘And as everyone was up at the crack of dawn,’ Alex continued, ‘I suggest an afternoon nap before the reception this evening. You’re welcome to stay here for more champagne or coffee, but I want some quiet time alone with my bride before tonight.’

      ‘Quiet time alone,’ Saskia said, rolling her eyes. ‘Yeah. We all know what that means.’

      Alex laughed. ‘I said quiet time, not wedding night.’ He raised his glass. ‘To you all. Because Bel and I are lucky to have the best family in the world.’

      ‘Oh, you charmer,’ Saskia said, but she was looking misty-eyed. And Isobel had too big a lump in her throat to speak.

      Alex had a quick word with the butler, then whisked Isobel off to the garden and found a quiet table and chairs beneath a tree. ‘We’re going to do a very English thing, now, and have tea in the garden.’

      ‘That’s fine by me.’ She smiled at him. ‘You’ve made it the perfect day.’ And very different from her first marriage. He’d made it so much easier for her, because there were no points of comparison. ‘And this ring is beautiful.’ A layer of white gold sandwiched between yellow gold.

      ‘I’m glad you like it.’

      Something in his eyes made her wonder. ‘What aren’t you telling me?’

      He gave her an enigmatic smile. ‘Doesn’t matter. Bel, you look amazing in that dress. Especially with the, ahem, orange veil.’

      ‘It’s a stole, and you know it,’ she corrected with a grin. ‘You look pretty amazing yourself. I thought you hated wearing suits.’

      ‘I do.’ He shrugged. ‘But you nixed the toga and my normal clothes just aren’t appropriate today.’ He reached over to run his thumb along her lower lip. ‘I did think about taking you for a spa this afternoon—but I didn’t want to mess up your hair or your make-up before this evening.’

      ‘I don’t know if I dare ask what you’ve planned for this evening.’

      He laughed. ‘It’s a surprise. But one I think you’ll like.’

      ‘Continuing the Roman theme?’

      ‘Might be.’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘Just think yourself lucky they throw confetti rather than walnuts at the bride and groom nowadays.’

      ‘You’ve gone to so much trouble, Alex.’

      ‘You’re worth it,’ he said simply.

      For a moment, Isobel thought he was going to tell her he loved her.

      But she knew that Alex didn’t believe in love.

      And she didn’t, either. She wasn’t going to let her heart be broken again. He was absolutely right to be practical about this. Deep friendship and spectacular sex were a good basis for a marriage. Something that wouldn’t crumble—unlike love. And if they couldn’t have a family … he’d still be there for her. He wouldn’t walk away.

      ‘This,’ Alex said after the waitress had brought their tea, ‘is the life.’

      Isobel scoffed. ‘You’d far rather be pottering around ruins with a camera and someone who’d talk to you about the history of the place.’

      ‘Well, yes,’ he admitted. ‘But that’s hardly an option today.’

      ‘What time do we have to be at the reception?’

      He raised an eyebrow. ‘Are you worrying again?’

      ‘No—just wondering how much free time we have.’

      He glanced at his watch. ‘Ages. We don’t have to be there until seven. Which means leaving here about ten to, if you don’t mind walking.’

      She smiled. ‘Walking’s fine with me.’

      ‘Obviously we’ll be expected to dance together, but we can get away with just the traditional first dance if you really hate it.’

      The first dance. That feeling of floating on air—and, despite being in a crowded place, there being nobody there except her husband. ‘Just as long as you haven’t picked the same song as I had with Gary.’

      ‘Hardly. Apart from the fact we’re having a string quartet …’

      ‘A string quartet?’

      He


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