The CEO Takes a Wife / The Throw-Away Bride. Maxine Sullivan
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walk toward him in her wedding gown. The white, off-the-shoulder, satin dress was slim and elegant, and it looked absolutely stunning on her. How had he not known she existed before this? he wondered, filled with a deep satisfaction that he’d found the woman he’d wanted for his temporary wife.
God, she was beautiful.
Beautiful and lovely and so very picture-perfect.
Surprisingly he’d missed her these last two weeks and had actually been pleased to see her when she’d arrived back in the country only forty-eight hours ago.
There’d been a hell of a lot to do with a high-profile wedding such as theirs, the time having gone fast, though not fast enough for his peace of mind. He’d wanted this marriage signed and sealed and he wanted Olivia Cannington in his bed. Just the thought of making her his sent the blood rushing through him.
Right then she reached him and their eyes met for one long moment before they turned toward the female marriage celebrant.
The ceremony began, and through the huge window in front of them, they could see the sun shine on the spectacular backdrop of the famous Sydney Harbour Bridge suspended over vibrant blue water dotted with sails.
They exchanged traditional wedding vows, and Alex felt a twinge of guilt when he promised “to cherish her until death do us part.” He would have liked to change the vows to “to have and to hold for as long as they both stayed married.” Only he didn’t want to think about divorce on their wedding day.
Then suddenly their marriage was a fact and he was told he could kiss the bride.
With pleasure.
Soft pink colored Olivia’s cheeks as he leaned toward her. Seeing her eyes drop to his mouth sent something powerful flaring inside him. He placed his lips against hers for a long moment that wasn’t wholly for the benefit of their guests.
Tonight there would be no audience…
Soon they stood on the steps of the Opera House, where it seemed the world’s media wanted to take their picture.
Not that he minded, usually. He’d grown up in the Australian spotlight, but this was different. One part of him felt a wedding day should be private, yet another part was gratified he’d done the right thing in using this avenue to highlight Valente’s Woman.
“Can we have a photograph of you and Olivia looking deep into each other’s eyes?”
He glanced at Olivia with a sideways smile. “Can we do that?”
She gave a tight smile. “Yes, I think we can,” she said, but only he could see her eyes were guarded as he turned to stare into them.
“You’re doing fine,” he murmured, noticing the flecks of different shades of blue that sparkled in her eyes.
She winced a little. “This is hard work.”
“Just pretend you love me,” he drawled, attempting to put her at ease.
A genuine smile tilted the corners of her mouth. “It would be easier if I didn’t hate you so much.”
He chuckled and cameras snapped all around them, and he realized being joined in holy matrimony with Olivia was going to be more than interesting. She was a challenge. And he liked challenges.
“Can we have a picture of you both with the bride’s mother?”
Alex felt Olivia stiffen beside him and that reminded him of last night’s dinner. She’d seemed edgy around Felicia, as though she expected her mother to take center stage all the time.
And of course “the star” had done exactly that, he remembered with mild amusement. The older woman was elegant and charming, and he could easily see where Olivia got those same qualities from.
Yet he sensed Felicia had an emotional fragility about her that Olivia didn’t. Perhaps that’s what made Felicia such a good actress, he mused, as she came forward and smiled at the cameras like the pro she was.
“Felicia, how does it feel to be the mother of the bride?” one of the journalists called out.
“Old,” she said with a pout.
Everyone chuckled. “You’re not so old, Felicia,” the journalist said.
Felicia sent him a stunning movie-star smile. “Darling, I love you.” She winked. “Come and see me after the reception.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” the reporter quipped with a huge grin.
Felicia chuckled, stepping between Olivia and Alex and linking her arms through theirs. “Let’s smile for the cameras, darlings.”
A few minutes later, they were still snapping pictures. Alex looked across at Olivia and could see how much of a strain it was becoming. He felt the same. On the other hand, Felicia seemed as though she would go on forever, cornering the attention and loving it all. It’s what she did best.
He stepped away from the women. “Right, that’s enough,” he all but growled. They still had a reception to get through.
Felicia darted a look at him and seemed to realize the moment was over. She turned back to the cameras and clapped her hands. “Right, fellas. That’s a wrap. This is my daughter’s day and I want to go play mother of the bride.”
Alex looked beyond the words and realized something. He had no doubt Felicia loved her daughter, but he had to wonder if Felicia didn’t love Felicia just that little bit more. He suddenly had a new appreciation of what it must be like to live with a superstar.
And he had a new appreciation of Olivia as her own person. For Olivia to get out from under her mother’s shadow, to make a name for herself as she’d done, showed her depth of character. He’d chosen well in his bride.
Hell, and he’d just gotten married!
His sacrifice had been worth it.
Then he looked at his new wife and all at once it didn’t seem like such a sacrifice. There would be benefits.
Very nice benefits.
Not the least of which would be making love to a flawless beauty who put up walls he now intended to pull down.
Olivia was glad when they moved back inside the Opera House to the waiting reception. Not that she had escaped the prying eyes. There were at least three hundred guests here today and the haste of their marriage had most of them looking at her and Alex with suspicion.
Was she or wasn’t she?
It was a thought she tried to put to the side and not think about. It had been the same last night at a Valente family dinner in her honor. She couldn’t help but note the question in everyone’s eyes.
Everyone’s except Cesare Valente’s.
He knew why Alex was marrying her so hastily.
Surprisingly, Olivia hadn’t expected to like Alex’s father, but she did. And his stepmother, Isabel, was a doll. Both his parents hit it off really well with Felicia, and Isabel had even promised to keep an eye on Felicia until her mother returned to the States in a week’s time. Her mother was such a good actress that a week of being charming to people who were charmed by her shouldn’t be so difficult.
As for herself, she hadn’t realized how much of an actress she was until today. As she danced with Alex, she tried not to let everyone see how much he affected her. And he knew it, too. That confident, arrogant gleam in his eyes told her how much he knew it with every step they took.
“You look beautiful in that wedding dress,” he murmured, sending her heart pounding like a hammer.
“Thank you.”
“Was it something you just threw together?” he teased.
Her lips twitched. “Actually I designed it for the daughter of a billionaire, but the wedding was called