CHAPTER FIVE

      STANDING IN ALL her wedding finery and trying not to let her nerves get the better of her, Lucy waited in the anteroom of the grand ballroom where her marriage to Drakon was about to take place. Tightly, she gripped her bouquet, which contrasted so vividly with the snowy whiteness of her dress. Scarlet roses flared like beacons amid the lush greenery and a sprig of mistletoe had been playfully added at the last minute by the Granchester’s in-house florist, as a nod towards the fact that it was almost Christmas.

      Donna, the wedding planner, had arranged for carols to be piped through the hotel’s sophisticated sound system because ‘everyone loves Christmas carols’. But if the seasonal songs were supposed to be soothing or comforting then they had failed in their mission because Lucy’s brow was clammy and her heart was racing beneath the heavily embellished dress which she’d been persuaded into against her better judgment. She’d wanted something simple. Something plain, in ivory—an outfit she didn’t have to think about, rather than something which would wear her. But the dress designer had explained that a room as grand as the Granchester ballroom needed a gown to stand out among all the lavish fixtures and fittings. Something which would fill the makeshift aisle rather than getting completely lost in it. Which was why she was wearing jewel-encrusted white silk satin, with an oversized veil cascading down her back, looking as if a tipper truck had just offloaded a ton of sequin-sprinkled meringue.

      Her throat felt like dust and her lips were dry and she kept thinking, Surely this isn’t how a bride is supposed to feel? Lost and displaced and alone. Wondering what she’d let herself in for and whether she’d been a fool to accept the Greek magnate’s offer of marriage. But how did she expect to feel, when the hectic preparations for the imminent ceremony seemed to have done nothing but emphasise the huge differences between her and her billionaire bridegroom? Especially since, after citing a busy work schedule, Drakon had absented himself from all the arrangements—except for providing a list of guests he wished to be invited, which hugely outnumbered her own.

      ‘So it’s definitely just five guests on your side?’ The wedding planner had clearly been puzzled as she’d looked at Lucy expectantly, as if waiting to be told there’d been an elemental mix-up in the numbers and she’d missed off a nought.

      Lucy’s smile had stayed firmly in place. ‘That’s right.’

      ‘Okay… Well, if you’re quite sure…’

      She supposed it wasn’t conventional for the bride to be so sparsely represented but Lucy had been strong in her determination only to have people there who meant something to her. Wasn’t this wedding fake enough already without her shipping in a load of guests just for show? Her parents and brother were dead and her only other living relative was Auntie Alice, who lived in Australia and had been unable to make the wedding this close to the holidays. And it wasn’t as if she and Drakon had already formed lots of friends between them as a couple, was it? They’d barely spent more than a couple of hours together at a time during the frantic run-up to the big day.

       And whose fault was that?

      Hers and hers alone. Her determination to keep their sleeping arrangements separate until after the ceremony had given Drakon free rein to throw himself into his work and he had been out at the office from dawn to dusk. Why, he hadn’t even asked her a single question about what they’d be eating at the wedding breakfast!

      Caroline, her boss from Caro’s Canapés, was going to be in attendance—as well as two of the other waitresses, Judii and Jade. A heavily pregnant Patti, her best friend from midwifery days, was also going to be there—along with Tom, her new husband. And they all loved her, Lucy reminded herself fiercely. They would be rooting for her even if her sudden decision to marry a man they’d never heard her mention had perplexed them. She didn’t even have anyone to give her away, but had been loath to go searching for someone suitable. Tom had kindly offered to step in but Lucy barely knew her best friend’s husband. Which was why she would be walking towards Drakon completely on her own.

      Donna stuck her head round the door and gave her a thumbs up. ‘Ready?’

      Lucy touched her fingers to the pale glittery veil which rippled down her back, and nodded. She just needed to remember the special Greek traditions she’d been taught and which were to be incorporated into the day. They would eat sugared almonds at some point and people would attempt to pin money to her dress. After their wedding rings had been blessed, they would be placed on their fingers three times—to symbolise the unity of their entwined lives.

       And during all this she would try her best not to feel like a hypocrite.

      ‘I’m ready,’ she whispered.

      The double doors were opened with a flourish and all Lucy could see was the long walk which lay ahead, decked on either side by chairs festooned with yet more greenery and slivers of golden ribbon. Everyone turned to look at her and she clutched her bouquet even tighter, aware that even in here Donna had gone over the top with the Christmas theme, but she hadn’t wanted to come over as some sort of Grinch by telling her not to bother. Yet somehow the gloriousness of the occasion was starting to feel overwhelmingly poignant. Tall candles of scarlet flickered patterns of transparent gold onto the gilded walls and silver stars dangled on spangled strings which hung from the vaulted ceiling. The sound of a carol being sung by a single boy’s voice in Greek was making Lucy want to blink her eyes against the unwanted threat of tears and she hoped she didn’t need to blow her nose during the service because she didn’t have a handkerchief.

      And there was Xander, fast asleep in the arms of his nanny, Sofia. Darling little Xander, whom she’d fed and played with that morning before she’d left for the hotel, wondering if Drakon ever intended to be anything other than a father in name. Because the man who was supremely confident in all things seemed wary of the innocent child he had adopted. She could count on the fingers of one hand the times she’d seen him hold the baby and she’d found herself wondering if she should try to bridge the distance he seemed to have constructed between himself and Xander. Was it her place to even try?

      She began to walk with small steps—partly because she was terrified of toppling over in her spiky heels, but also in an attempt to quell her spiralling nerves as she saw her Greek bridegroom standing beneath an arch of Christmas roses.

      As the music heralded her arrival, he didn’t turn to look at her and although Lucy told herself it was easier not to have to face the enigmatic glitter of his eyes, it was also daunting to be confronted by his imposing back view. She gazed at his powerful body, clad in a dark suit which accentuated his broad shoulders and muscular limbs. A body which very soon…

      No. She wasn’t going to fret about her wedding night or give into the nebulous fears which had been bugging her. She wasn’t going to start worrying that their time on Prasinisos had been an aberration—a peculiar one-off, fuelled by sunshine and novelty.

      Because what if she disappointed her new husband on the first night of their honeymoon? What if the reality of an arranged marriage had somehow extinguished the passion they’d shared before? Wasn’t that another reason why she had been secretly relieved to maintain separate rooms until the wedding—because she’d been afraid of being put to the test, and failing?

      At long last she reached the