of unhappiness.
‘Please…’ she gasped urgently.
Nikolos saw the glimmer of tears in her strained gaze and removed his attention from her again. He had seen more than he wanted to see and he was angry with her for having so little savoir-faire. A Greek girl would have had refreshments served while she made polite enquiries about his family. What did she have to be unhappy about? The lack of romantic frills? What more could she ask from him? Wasn’t she getting the husband she wanted? Hadn’t Theo Demakis virtually bought her husband for her? That humiliating thought lanced through his tall, lean physique like a poisoned knife.
Prudence was trembling. She felt horribly like some slave girl on the sale block and was vaguely surprised Nikolos hadn’t checked her teeth. His hard self-assurance took her equally aback for she had assumed that the situation would bring down the barriers of polite reserve between them. In the face of such odds, his forbidding cool was daunting. ‘I didn’t want this…if there was any other way…’ Her nervous, apologetic voice ran quickly out of steam.
His handsome mouth took on a sardonic edge, for he was not impressed by her claim. ‘But there isn’t. We should talk about terms.’
Her long brown lashes lifted. ‘Terms?’ she said blankly.
‘This is an arranged marriage and we’re almost strangers. It will work better if we are honest with each other now.’
Prudence breathed in deeply. ‘Can’t we just behave like friends?’
Against the backdrop of the family lawyers still battling to hammer out a financial agreement with his mother distraught and his father wretched with guilt, that question struck Nikolos as utterly naïve. He could only think that she was as thick as a brick. ‘Friends don’t marry and have children. I need to know what you expect from me as a husband.’
Discomfiture at that reference to children tensed Prudence’s small, taut frame. ‘I know that I’m not the wife you’d have picked for yourself. I suppose we’ll just learn to manage as we go along.’
‘That’s a recipe for chaos.’
‘But you wouldn’t like rules.’
His keen amber scrutiny flared in surprise at that level of perception and arrowed back to her. No, not thick as a brick, he registered, a frown of disconcertion momentarily pleating his winged ebony brows.
He reached for her hand. ‘I have a ring…it belonged to my grandmother. Of course, if you don’t like it, you can—’
‘No…no, it’s lovely; really, really lovely.’ Rosy colour warmed her cheeks and rare pleasure enfolded her. The ruby and diamond ring slid onto her finger as though it belonged there. His gift of a family heirloom surprised and moved her. ‘I wasn’t expecting this…’
‘It would be fair to say that life is currently full of the unexpected.’ When Nikolos had flatly refused to buy an engagement ring, his father had persuaded him to bring the ruby. Symeon had, however, forecast that Prudence would be offended by the presentation of an unfashionable, if valuable, piece of jewellery that had belonged to someone else first.
‘Thank you…’ Prudence’s voice was husky with emotion. She studied the ring from all angles, admiring the deep scarlet glow of the ruby and the glitter of the diamonds. That it fitted as though it had been made for her struck her as a good omen.
Discomfited by the level of her enthusiasm, Nikolos shrugged in a very masculine way and stayed silent. It was dawning on him that, apart from a shabby plastic watch, he had never seen her wear a single piece of jewellery and that it was perfectly possibly she did not own any. Suddenly he wished he had bought a proper ring for her. ‘Pudding…’ he breathed with uncharacteristic awkwardness. ‘Do you mind if I call you that?’
‘No, of course not…I’ve always hated the name I was born with.’ The nickname that had embarrassed her suddenly acquired acceptability on his lips and seemed more in the nature of an endearing pet name. ‘I’ll be the best wife I can be…’
Nikolos almost groaned out loud. He knew she was dying to hear him say the same thing back on his own behalf but he would not lie to her. He was a long way from achieving an accepting state of grace, if he ever could. He didn’t want to marry her. He didn’t want to be married, full stop. Nor did he want a baby, he conceded with corrosive bitterness. Nothing was likely to alter those irrefutable facts.
Three short weeks later, almost lost in a frothy sea of handmade lace and expensive silken fabric, Prudence walked down the aisle on her grandfather’s arm to become a wife. Although she took small, sensible steps, she was mentally floating on air and overjoyed to be marrying the man she loved. Not a single doubt clouded her optimistic outlook.
As the day moved on, however, harsh reality was destined to deliver a series of knockout blows to her rosy hopes for the future Within hours, her happiness would be destroyed and her trust shattered. When her bridegroom drank himself unconscious at the reception and had to be carried into the marital bedroom, only Theo Demakis was tactless enough to laugh. Hurt and humiliated beyond all bearing, Prudence suppressed all recollection of ever having thought that they might have had a real marriage because she was mortified by her naïvety. In spite of that common-sense attitude, the wedding night that never happened would still be the longest night of her life…
CHAPTER ONE
‘I CAN’T MAKE it to your party,’ Nikolos told the woman reclining on the bed, pulling on the jacket of his suit with the fluid grace that distinguished all his movements.
‘Please…pretty please…’ Naked but for a turquoise silk wrap, Tania Benson leapt up and curled her arms round his neck, deploying her long, rangy, supermodel body like a lethal weapon of persuasion. ‘I want you to be there.’
‘No strings,’ Nikolos reminded her, irritated by her persistence. Their relationship was basic and not exclusive, for they often went months without contact. He only saw Tania when he was in Paris or Brussels. To complement her position in his life, he enjoyed the company of an Icelandic blonde in New York and a sultry Russian model in London.
The redhead pouted. ‘I’ve never asked you for a favour before.’
Nikolos shrugged. She had not had to ask, because he was a very generous lover and she knew the score as well as he did.
‘You couldn’t make it last year either!’
‘I have another engagement.’ His tone was cool, clipped. He came and went as he pleased. Without explanation or apology. That had been the agreement and he had no desire for anything else. Certainly not the whole dating-type scenario of being shown off like some trophy tycoon at a celebrity party. It would also be indiscreet, since his appearance at a fashionable party was a virtual guarantee of photos and comment in the gossip columns. Once, Nikolos conceded grimly, he had been a lot less considerate about the level of public interest his way of life could attract.
Furious at that flat rejection, Tania looked sulky. ‘I know what that engagement is, too…’
His dark golden eyes became semi-veiled, the hard, dynamic cast of his darkly handsome features suddenly still and impassive. ‘The limo will be waiting.’
‘It’s her birthday, isn’t it? Your wife’s?’ Tania launched at him.
His
