had. The older woman was so palpably impressed by Acheron and his incredible apartment that she asked few searching questions.
An hour later Tabby was feeding Amber and stealing bites from her own meal in the kitchen when Acheron appeared in the doorway, his expression thunderous. He swept up the highchair with Amber in it and turned on his heel.
‘What on earth are you doing?’ Tabby cried, racing after him.
Acheron set the chair down at one end of the dining table. ‘We eat in here together. You do not eat in the kitchen like a member of my staff. That will not support the impression of a normal married couple.’
‘I shouldn’t think any of your staff could care less where we eat!’ Tabby replied.
‘But you need to be more cautious about appearances,’ Acheron spelled out the warning grimly. ‘Any one of my staff could sell a story to the tabloids and blow a massive hole in our pretence of being a couple.’
Tabby fell still. ‘I never thought of that. Can’t you trust your employees?’
‘Most of them but there’s always a rotten apple somewhere in the barrel,’ Acheron answered with cynical cool.
Tabby nodded and returned to the kitchen to fetch her meal. He thought of every pitfall from every possible angle and it shook her that he had evidently already suffered that kind of betrayal from someone close to him. It was little wonder that he continually expected the worst from people, she reflected ruefully.
‘Why were you eating in the kitchen?’ he enquired as she settled at the table.
‘I know you like your own space,’ Tabby said quickly.
‘You’re not comfortable eating with me. I noticed that in the restaurant the first night,’ Acheron commented, resting level dark eyes on her rising colour. ‘You’ll have to get over that.’
‘Yes, but it was a strain that first night,’ Tabby admitted, grudgingly opting for honesty. ‘I couldn’t read the menu because my French isn’t up to it. I didn’t even know which cutlery to use.’
A stab of remorse pierced Acheron. It had not even occurred to him that she might feel out of her depth at his favourite restaurant. ‘Cutlery isn’t important, hara mou—’
‘Believe me, it is when you don’t know which utensil to use.’
‘In future, ask.’ Acheron compressed his wide, sensual mouth, irritated that he had been so inconsiderate of the differences between them. ‘I’m not...sensitive. I won’t pick up on things like that unless you warn me. By the way, Sharma has engaged last night’s nanny to work for us. I’ve also secured permission for us to take Amber abroad.’
‘Abroad?’ Tabby exclaimed. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘We’re heading to Italy after the wedding. I have a house there. It will be easier to keep up the newly married act without an audience of friends and acquaintances looking on,’ Acheron pointed out with irreproachable practicality.
* * *
Tabby woke early the next morning. Well, it was her wedding day even though it bore no resemblance to the very special event she had once dreamt the occasion would be. For a start, Sonia would not be there to play bridesmaid as the two women had always assumed she would, and momentarily Tabby’s eyes stung with tears because sometimes the pain of losing her best friend felt like a wound that would never heal. She reminded herself that she still had Jack, but Jack was a man of few words and his girlfriend, Emma, was uneasy about his friendship with Tabby. As a result Tabby kept contact with Jack to the minimum. With a sigh, she rolled out of bed to go and tend to Amber and get dressed.
The nanny, Melinda, was in Amber’s bedroom. Tabby had forgotten about the nanny, forgotten that she was no longer the only person available to care for the little girl, and Amber was already bathed, dressed and fed. A little pang of regret assailed Tabby because she had always enjoyed giving Amber her first peaceful feed of the day. But Sonia’s daughter still greeted her with uninhibited love and affection, and Tabby buried her nose in the little girl’s sweet-smelling hair and breathed deep, reminding herself why she was marrying Acheron and meeting his every demand. Amber was worth almost any sacrifice, she conceded feelingly.
The ceremony was to be held at an exclusive castle hotel, and Tabby was amazed at how much it had been possible to arrange at such speed. Then she reminded herself that Acheron’s wealth would have ensured special attention and she scolded herself for being so naive.
Sharma had arranged for a hairstylist and a make-up artist to attend her at the apartment, and Tabby hoped that their professional skill would give her at least a hint of the glossy sophistication that Acheron’s female companions usually exuded. As quick as she thought that, she wondered why his opinion should matter to her. Was it simply a matter of pride?
Sharma helped lace Tabby into her dress while the stylist adjusted the short flirty veil attached to the circlet of fresh flowers attached to Tabby’s hair.
‘With those flowers on your head you look like the Queen of Summer...’ Sharma burbled enthusiastically. ‘Mr Dimitrakos will be blown away.’
It dawned on Tabby for the first time that she was dealing with someone who thought she was about to attend a genuine wedding and she flushed with discomfiture, quite certain that the last thing Acheron would be was ‘blown away’.
‘And watching the boss go to so much trouble to get married in such a hurry is so romantic,’ Sharma continued. ‘I used to think he was so...er, cold, no offence intended...and then I saw him with the baby and realised how wrong I was. Of course fatherhood does change a man...’
And Tabby registered that Sharma had, not unnaturally, added two and two to make five in her assumption that Acheron was Amber’s father. ‘Actually, Amber is the daughter of my late best friend and Acheron’s cousin,’ she explained, deeming it wiser to put the other woman right on that score.
* * *
Grim-faced, Acheron paced while he awaited the arrival of the bridal car. He was very tense. It might be a fake wedding but with the arrival of his stepmother, Ianthe, and two of her adult children along with several good friends, it felt unnervingly real and he was already fed up with making polite conversation and pretending to be a happy bridegroom. Unhappily, a wedding without guests would not have been a very convincing affair, he reminded himself impatiently, and at least the woman whose attendance would have been least welcome had failed to show up. Stationed by the window of the function room adorned with flowers for the ceremony, he watched as a limousine embellished with white ribbons that fluttered in the breeze drew up at the hotel entrance.
Tabby stepped out in a sleek bell of rustling white fabric and petticoats, little shoulders bare, her veil and glorious streamers of golden-blonde hair blowing back from her oval face. Acheron’s expressive mouth hardened even more, a nerve pulling taut at the corner of his lips. She looked as dainty and delicate as a doll and utterly ravishing, he noted in exasperation, cursing his all-too-male response to so feminine and alluring an image. Tabby didn’t just clean up well, in Stevos’s parlance; she cleaned up spectacular, Acheron conceded wryly, only absently registering the emergence of the new nanny clutching Amber, who was looking similarly festive in a candy-pink dress and matching hairband.
Tabby was guided straight into the ceremony where music was already playing. Her apprehensive glance took in the sea of faces and then lodged on Acheron
