don’t think this is the time to discuss it,’ he bit out.
Reece stared at Mike, who gave a slight nod in Richard’s direction. Fortunately, Richard wasn’t taking any notice of them, his eyes fixed straight ahead.
‘Joanna?’ Reece whispered.
‘Yep.’
‘She hit on me, too,’ Reece admitted.
‘No kidding. What a bitch.’
‘Stunningly beautiful, though.’
‘It’s always the stunningly beautiful ones you have to worry about,’ Mike muttered.
Just then, the chief bridesmaid came into view, dressed exactly the same as the girl walking a few metres in front of her.
Every male hormone in Reece moved from stationary into overdrive. Now that was one stunningly beautiful woman.
But, of course, he already knew that. He’d been married to her for nine months.
Reece struggled with a perverse jab of jealousy as he watched the eyes of all the male wedding guests slavishly following Alanna’s graceful progress down the aisle.
Perverse, because he’d never felt jealous before, not even when she was showing off her model-slim figure in one of the revealing evening gowns he liked her to wear.
By comparison, Alanna was very modestly dressed today. Yet for some reason, the effect was sexier. Maybe it was true that what was hidden and hinted at was more provocative than what was on open display.
Or maybe it was the colour.
Alanna had never worn red before. She preferred softer, paler shades. But Holly had chosen red for the bridesmaids for some sentimental reason. Something to do with a bunch of red roses having brought her and Richard together.
The colour actually looked magnificent against Alanna’s porcelain skin and creamy blonde hair.
The style was quite simple. A full-length sheath, it skimmed rather than hugged Alanna’s figure. The neckline was wide. Almost off the shoulder, but not low-cut. The sleeves were straight and long, no doubt in deference to the weather. It was, after all, June. And June in Sydney was wintertime.
The day outside was pleasant enough, but inside this rather old church the air was crisp and cold.
The first bridesmaid reached the end of the aisle and turned away to the side, giving Reece an even better view of his wife, especially her face.
And what an exquisite face it was. Classically sculptured, with a delicately pointed chin, high cheekbones and a fine, fair complexion. Her eyes were a smoky green, almond-shaped and lushly lashed. Her nose was small and straight with an elegant tip. Her mouth was full, her lips looking even fuller painted scarlet.
Reece’s gaze moved down further, his mind stripping her of that dress and seeing her as he liked seeing her best of all.
Alanna had the kind of body that had always attracted and aroused him. Slender and firm, with long legs, a tight butt and small, high-set breasts.
Body-wise, she was very similar to Kristine.
That was one of the reasons Reece has chosen Alanna for his wife. He would never have considered marriage to a woman he wasn’t physically attracted to, regardless of his motivations. The other, more vengeful reason for choosing Alanna was that she was even more beautiful than his ex-fiancée.
Her willingness to have his children was merely a bonus.
As these thoughts tumbled through Reece’s head he tried to revive the vengeful feelings that had inspired his marriage to Alanna last year.
But astonishingly, they just weren’t there!
Reece’s shock was soon replaced by an overwhelming sense of relief as he realised he didn’t give a damn about Kristine any more.
Let the devil take her, which he would.
The only woman he cared about these days was the woman in red, coming down the aisle. His wife. The stunningly beautiful, extremely enigmatic, very intriguing Alanna.
A few years ago, Reece might have believed his uncharacteristic jealousy a minute ago meant he’d fallen in love with Alanna.
But Reece had turned thirty-six this year, past the age when an intelligent man mistook male possessiveness for love. He did like and respect Alanna. A lot. But love?
No. Love wasn’t what he felt when he looked at her.
Which was just as well, because love hadn’t been part of their deal. In fact, it had been the one thing Alanna had been very adamant about. No love.
She’d been madly in love before, she’d explained. With her dead husband. The love of her life, killed in a tragic road accident.
She didn’t want to tread that path again.
During their first dinner date Alanna had confided that she’d once believed she would never marry again, but as she’d approached thirty she’d realised she still wanted a family. What she didn’t want, she insisted repeatedly, was romantic love, and all the emotional torment that went with it.
Which was why she’d become a client of Wives Wanted, an introduction agency that specialised in matching professional men of substance with attractive, intelligent women who were happy to be career wives. Although falling in love sometimes happened—according to the woman who ran the agency—on the whole, these were marriages made with heads and not hearts. Marriages of convenience, they were called in the old days.
A marriage of convenience was exactly what Reece had in mind when he had become a client of Wives Wanted a year ago. Love hadn’t been on his agenda, either.
At the time, he’d got exactly what he’d wanted in Alanna. The ultimate trophy wife for him to display on his arm. The perfect salve for his bruised male ego. A visible token of his professional survival as well as a none-too-subtle weapon of personal revenge.
To this end, he’d made sure that photographs of his wedding had been printed in every paper and glossy magazine in Australia.
Not a difficult thing to arrange. He was a high-profile property developer, after all. What he did and whom he married made the news. Photos of every glamorous party he’d held since his wedding—and there were many—had found their way into the media as well, with Alanna always dressed to show off her physical assets.
For quite some time it had given Reece perverse pleasure to think of Kristine thinking of him with his beautiful blonde wife whilst she was having to service her ageing sugar-daddy, the one she’d dumped him for. He liked imagining his ex-fiancée feeling regret that she’d bailed out of their relationship prematurely. No doubt she hadn’t expected him to go from near bankruptcy to billionaire status within three short years of her desertion.
Poor Kristine, came the caustic thought. If only she’d had some faith and loyalty, she could have had her cake and eaten it too. Instead, she’d thrown her lot in with an ageing playboy film producer who had a reputation for replacing his starlet girlfriends
