was conscious of Loukas’ studied look as he jabbed the call-button summoning the lift, and she tilted her head a little as she held his gaze.
‘What?’ she challenged. ‘My mascara is smudged? Too much bronzing powder or not enough?’
‘Faultless.’ His silky drawl held a tinge of amusement as the lift drew to a smooth halt.
‘While you resemble the quintessential male,’ she responded an instant before she preceded him into the spacious reception area.
Within a very short space of time she’d sign documentation detailing precise legalese pertaining to the terms outlined in Dimitri’s will. A pre-nup covering every known contingency.
Copies of which she’d already perused.
So why now were the nerves in her stomach tying themselves in knots?
Because each step she took brought her closer to a marriage she didn’t want. To a man she had no choice but to trust on every level.
Sure, she could opt out. Except losing Karsouli was too heavy a penalty to pay.
Consequently she listened to the lawyer’s clarification, the reassurance he felt beholden to relay.
When he was done, she took up a proffered pen, signed where indicated, then solemnly watched as Loukas attached his signature.
‘I consider it an honour to act as a witness to your marriage on Friday. Dimitri would be very pleased with this outcome.’
Alesha managed a faint smile at the lawyer’s words.
What about her? Didn’t she count? Or was she merely a pawn in a diabolical game?
Don’t go there. It’s done.
Almost.
Next step … marriage.
She preceded Loukas into the lift and pressed the ‘ground’ button on the instrument panel.
He stood too close as he chose ‘basement’, and when they reached street level he merely bypassed her command and sent the lift down.
Her mouth tightened and she cast him a fulminating glare … which had no effect whatsoever.
‘Give it up,’ Loukas advised as the lift doors slid open and he indicated the black Aston Martin.
He waited until they were both seated before engaging the engine. ‘Can I leave the choice of second witness with you?’
There was only one person she’d consider asking. Lacey Pattison, lifelong friend and trusted confidante who had, ironically, acted as chief bridesmaid at her first wedding. ‘Yes.’
Was there such a thing as the sound of silence? If so, it seemed to hang heavy in the car’s interior as he negotiated city traffic before easing the car into the kerb adjacent the office tower housing Karsouli.
‘You have my cellphone number if you have any concerns.’
She met his dark gaze with equanimity. ‘Is this where I wish you a safe flight?’
The edge of his mouth quirked a little. ‘I’ll be in touch Thursday evening.’
‘I might be otherwise engaged with a male stripper at a very private “hen” party.’ As if.
‘In which case, have fun.’
That was it? No macho follow-up?
‘Not quite.’
He read minds?
The next instant he leant forward and took her mouth with his own in a slow evocative kiss that drained the breath from her body … and then some.
There was no demand, just a sense of intent … his.
Then he straightened, and his eyes narrowed at her faintly dazed expression, the sudden paleness of her cheeks.
In one fluid movement she released her seat belt, caught up her bag and slid out from the passenger seat before crossing to the building’s foyer without so much as a backward glance.
It was only as she rode the lift that she permitted herself to reflect.
The feel of his mouth on her own lingered, and she pressed light fingers to her lips.
What was that?
No matter how she viewed it, there had been nothing to prepare her for the unexpected sensuality evident … or her reaction.
The unbidden need to deepen the kiss was merely a transitory figment of her imagination, she dismissed as she entered Reception and moved into her office.
The phone call to Lacey resulted in a barrage of rapid-fire questions, to which only truthful answers would suffice.
‘Okay,’ Lacey said with deliberate calm. ‘We’ve covered the who, why, when and where. I’ve done the ohmigod thing. Now it’s down to basics. What are you going to wear?’
‘I’m sure there’s something suitable in my wardrobe.’
‘We’ll go shopping tomorrow afternoon.’
‘Lacey—no.’
‘Yes. Double Bay.’ She named a place. ‘I’ll be there at three.’
‘I don’t finish until five.’
‘You’re the boss. Leave early.’
‘You’re impossible.’
‘Yes, I know. That’s why I’m your friend. Three, Alesha. Don’t be late. We have a lot of ground to cover in a short time.’
She opened her mouth to protest, except the faint click indicated Lacey had already hung up.
The next morning Alesha went into the office early, declined a lunch break and collected Lacey mid-afternoon to shop for the dress.
‘Coffee first, double shot of caffeine, double sugar,’ Alesha determined as Lacey indicated one of a few streets in exclusive Double Bay where boutiques offered designer wear with exorbitant price tags.
‘Darling, no.’ Lacey gave her a don’t mess with me look Alesha recognized from old. ‘Dress first, coffee later.’
‘I need sustenance.’
‘Delaying tactics,’ Lacey dismissed. ‘We’re shopping for your wedding dress. Something that cannot be rushed. We need to look.’
‘One boutique,’ Alesha stated firmly. ‘I choose, try it on, present plastic, we leave.’
Lacey’s smile was pure imp dressed in steel. ‘You think?’
Alesha
