Taken by the Millionaire: Hotly Bedded, Conveniently Wedded

‘Welcome to the family, Bel,’ Tom echoed, raising his own glass. ‘We’ve always thought of you as family anyway, but it’s good to make you officially one of us.’

Isobel swallowed the lump in her throat. ‘Thank you. I think I’m going to cry.’

‘No, you’re not.’ Alex, who’d made sure he was sitting next to her, scooped her onto his lap and wrapped his arms round her waist, holding her close.

‘So have you set a date or anything?’ Saskia asked.

‘No,’ Alex admitted, ‘but as we’ve known each other for years, there’s not much point in having a long engagement. As it’s a small wedding, it won’t take long to organise—so are you all busy in three weeks’ time?’

Isobel almost choked on her champagne. ‘Alex, I can’t possibly organise a wedding in three weeks!’

‘But I can,’ he said. ‘I’m twiddling my thumbs for the next month until I start my new job. Three weeks to the wedding, a week’s honeymoon—and this will give me something to do in the meantime and keep me out of mischief.’ He smiled. ‘Actually, it’ll be fun.’

‘Why does that set all the alarm bells ringing in the back of my head?’ Isobel asked.

‘Because you know what my brother’s like,’ Saskia said. ‘He could be planning anything.’

‘Alex, maybe we’d better wait until you’ve been in your job for a few months,’ Isobel suggested. And it would buy her some time, too. So she could find the right moment to tell him about what had happened with Gary. Explain about the miscarriages. She was marrying him under false pretences as it was. She couldn’t do it under double false pretences.

‘No, he’s got a point,’ Anna said, surprising Isobel. ‘You’ve known each other for years. Why wait? And a summer wedding will be lovely.’

‘I think so, too,’ Marcia said. ‘Don’t worry that he’s going to go over the top, Bel. We’ll keep him under control—won’t we, Anna?’

‘Absolutely,’ Anna said. ‘I foresee daily phone calls and updates.’

‘I’ll text you,’ Alex said, laughing at the horrified look on his mother’s face.

Saskia dug him in the ribs. ‘Don’t be mean. You know Mum hardly ever switches her mobile phone on and gets in a knot over texting.’

‘All right, all right. Daily updates. In a phone call,’ Alex promised.

‘I think we need a toast,’ Marcia said, beaming. ‘To Isobel and Alex. And may they have a very long, very happy married life.’

‘Isobel and Alex,’ everyone echoed.

Alex bent his head to whisper in Isobel’s ear, ‘Stop worrying. It’s all going to be fine.’

‘No snogging at the table, you two,’ Saskia directed. ‘Let the poor girl go back to her seat, Alex. It’s lunchtime. Flora’s been really patient but if we don’t feed her in the next ten seconds she’s going to start screaming.’

‘Just like her mother,’ Bryn said.

Alex laughed. ‘You can say that again.’ He lifted Isobel’s hand, kissed her palm and folded her fingers over the place he’d just kissed. ‘As my little sister’s being bossy …’

‘Yes, dear.’ Isobel fluttered her eyelashes at him, laughed and slid off his lap to reclaim her seat.

It was the perfect lunch. Everyone was laughing and talking and smiling, and Isobel’s heart gave a funny little throb as she thought how much she loved all the people there.

Including Alex.

But Alex didn’t feel the same way about her. If she wasn’t very, very careful, she was going to get her heart broken all over again. And this time she wouldn’t be able to put the pieces back together.

Isobel was really quiet on the way home, Alex noticed.

‘Are you all right?’ he asked.

‘Yes, of course.’

But her smile was fixed rather than genuine. He reached across to take her hand and squeeze it. ‘No, you’re not. What is it? The wedding?’

She sighed. ‘Yes.’

‘Going to tell me about it?’

‘I’ve been married before,’ she said softly. ‘I’ve done the church and the partying and it all went wrong.’

‘Because you trusted in love,’ he said. ‘This time, we’re going for something that lasts—we like each other and we get on well, so it’ll work. And I can guarantee this wedding’s not going to be anything like your first one.’ He slid her a wicked look. ‘For a start, the groom will be wearing an Akubra.’

‘You’re kidding!’

Oh, he loved this. She was so easy to tease. ‘You don’t want me to wear my Hunter stuff? OK. We’ll make it a Roman do and I’ll sweet-talk Rita into lending me that toga again.’

‘Alex …’

He could hear in her voice that he’d just pushed her over the edge into worrying again. ‘I was teasing, Bel. As our mothers are both keeping an eye on me, I can’t do anything too outrageous, can I?’

‘I suppose not,’ she admitted. ‘Though I’d be happier if you actually planned it with me.’

‘Bel, you’re up to your eyes at work. The last thing you need when you get home is to have to go through all the hassle of choosing this and booking that and seeing if there’s an alternative if we can’t have our first choice.’ He rubbed the pad of his thumb across the backs of her fingers. ‘Whereas I’m not officially at work for another month. I don’t have anything pressing to do, so it makes sense for me to be the one making the arrangements and chasing things up. And, actually, I’d get a huge kick out of giving you a surprise wedding. A day to remember for all the right reasons.’

She swallowed hard. ‘Alex, I really need to talk to you about something.’

‘Bel, it’s going to be fine,’ he said softly. ‘I’m not going to plan anything you’ll hate. Just trust me.’

‘I do trust you. It’s not that. It’s …’ She sighed. ‘Now isn’t the right place. But there’s something you ought to know. About me.’

‘Your divorce never came through properly?’

She shook her head. ‘No, that’s sorted. Gary made sure of that when his—’ for a moment, her voice cracked ‘—when his partner became pregnant.’

‘So there’s no legal bar to us getting married. Good. So do you want a church wedding or a civil wedding?’

‘I’m divorced,’ she reminded him. ‘I can’t marry in church.’

‘You could still have a blessing, if you want one.’

‘Civil’s fine. And something quiet, Alex. Not a media circus.’

‘It won’t be a media circus,’ he promised. ‘So the mums and Saskia are coming to help you find a wedding dress, next weekend?’

‘Yes.’ She dragged in a breath. ‘But this is all happening so fast.’

‘Relax. We have three weeks. And whatever I say about loathing admin, I’m actually quite good at organising things. I’m not going to skimp any of the little details—or anything major, come to that.’ He gave her a sidelong look. ‘So I take it you’re not going for the meringue dress?’

‘Been there, done that.’

‘That’s a no, then.’ He paused. ‘Tell you what would look good. A little shift dress—you know, like the one Audrey Hepburn wears in Breakfast at Tiffany’s.’

‘A black wedding dress?’

‘No.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘I was talking shape, not colour. White would be good, because it would go with your flame-coloured veil.’

‘What flame-coloured …’ She groaned. ‘Oh, no. Saskia put the idea in your head. We’re not having a Roman wedding and I’m not wearing a flame-coloured veil.’

He pursed his lips. ‘It’d look stunning in the photographs.’

‘Alex!’

He laughed. ‘All right, all right. I’ll leave the dress up to you. But just remember the mums and my sister will all be sworn to absolute secrecy about the finer details, so when you go shopping there’s no point in even asking them what I’m planning.’

‘You’re impossible.’

‘If what I have in mind is doable, you’re going to enjoy it, I promise you that much.’

She was silent for a while, and he was aware of her fidgeting next to him.

‘All right. What now?’

‘Nothing.’

He sighed. ‘Bel, don’t pull that girly stuff on me. What’s the matter?’

‘Are you at least going to tell me where we’re going on holiday?’

He noted her choice of word: holiday, not honeymoon. Good. So she wasn’t about to go sentimental on him. ‘Nope.’

‘So how do I know what to pack? Or if I need any vaccinations?’

‘You don’t need any vaccinations—and we’re not going anywhere that involves mosquitoes or even the tiniest possibility of malaria. As for packing … wear what you want.’

She sighed. ‘Will you at least tell me if it’s going to be cold or hot?’

‘Better than that. I’ll pack for you.’

She growled in frustration. ‘I hate you.’

‘No, you don’t. Just humour me, Bel. I want to do something nice for you—and I like giving surprises.’

‘I don’t like receiving surprises.’

‘Because you’re a control freak,’ he teased.

‘I’m not. You’re a steamroller.’

‘Insulting me isn’t going to make any difference. I’m still not going to tell you anything.’ He chuckled. ‘Though you could try seducing it out of me.’

‘Maybe I’ll do a Lysistrata on you,’ she fenced.

He got the reference to the ancient Greek play immediately. ‘Go on a sex strike? You can try, honey.’ His luck was in, because there was a lay-by ahead. He signalled, parked the car, then removed his seat belt. ‘But that’s not going to work.’

‘Oh, really?’ She lifted her chin at the challenge.

‘Really. Let me show you why.’ He undid her seat belt, yanked her into his arms, and kissed her. Teasing, nibbling kisses along her lower lip until she gave in and opened her mouth, letting him deepen the kiss. He slid one hand underneath her top, stroking her skin in the way he knew she liked; she slid her arms round his neck and drew him closer.

He moved one hand up to cup her breast, rubbing the pad of his thumb against her hardening nipple through the lace of her bra, then broke the kiss.

‘That,’ he said softly, ‘is why a sex strike wouldn’t work. Because it’s good between us, and your body knows it. Right now, your nipples are hard, just as right now I’m hard for you and I really, really want to be inside you.’

Her cheeks flamed. ‘So you’re saying I’m easy?’

‘No. Just that it’s good between us.’ He stroked her face. ‘And if it makes you feel any better, I’m not going to be very comfortable while I’m driving us home. Right now, I can’t think of anything I’d like more than to carry you out of the car, lay you down on the nice soft grass and wrap your legs round my waist.’

She shivered, and he knew she wanted it, too.

‘But as having sex in public could get us arrested, I’ll go for option two.’

‘Which is?’

‘To drive home as fast as possible without getting a speeding fine. And then I’m going to take all your clothes off. And then …’ He gave her a wicked grin. ‘Then I’m going to make you beg.’

She scoffed. ‘In your dreams, big boy.’

He kissed her again. ‘No, honey. In ours.’

CHAPTER EIGHT

THE next week simply flew by. Isobel was really busy at work; so she had to admit that no way would she have had the time to organise the wedding herself, or even help Alex much.

But by Friday night she knew she had to talk to him. Before she went shopping for a wedding dress. Before things went too far. Because once he knew the truth, he might change his mind about getting married.

As she walked up the steps to her flat, her feet felt like lead. This was a conversation she really didn’t want to have. But if she didn’t speak up now and things went pear-shaped in the future, Alex would never forgive her for lying to him.

One of the reasons he’d reacted so badly to Dorinda’s betrayal was that she’d lied and cheated.

Right now, she was no better. She could be cheating him out of a future.

And hadn’t Alex himself said that their marriage would work because they’d never lie to each other?

When she reached the front door, she dragged in a breath. Nerved herself. And walked indoors to face Alex.

‘Hi.’ He looked up from his laptop and smiled at her. ‘How was your day?’

‘Fine.’ Lord, how she wanted to back out of this right now. To pretend that nothing was wrong. But she couldn’t do that to him. ‘Alex, we need to talk. I need to tell you something.’ Forestalling his interruption, she held up a hand. ‘There’s no easy way to say it, so I’m going to just come out with it. And I don’t want you saying a word until I’ve finished, OK?’

He frowned, but nodded. ‘Hit me with it.’

‘It’s why Gary and I split up. And I’ll understand if you want to walk away now.’ She closed her eyes, unable to bear looking at him and seeing the pity in his face. ‘We … we tried to start a family. Except I lost the baby. Both times. And…’ she gulped ‘… you said you maybe wanted a family. I might not be able to give you that.’

He was silent.

Just as she’d expected.

And now he was going to walk away. Just as Gary had.

She dragged in a breath, still with her eyes closed—and the next thing she knew, she was in Alex’s arms and he was holding her really, really tightly.

‘Alex? What …’

‘I agreed not to say a word until you’d finished,’ he reminded her.

‘I—I’ve f-finished now.’ To her horror, her voice was actually wobbly.

‘Oh, Bel. I had no idea you’d been through something like this. I’m so sorry.’

Sorry, because he didn’t want to marry her any more?

But then why were his arms still round her? Why was he still holding her close to him, as if she were the most precious thing in the world? This was Alex—the man who didn’t even believe in love.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said softly, ‘that you had to go through something so heartbreaking. I just assumed that he wanted kids and you didn’t, because you’ve always been so dedicated to your job.’

She swallowed hard. ‘I wanted a baby. I wanted a baby so much, Alex. And when Gary and I couldn’t …’ She closed her eyes again. ‘When he left me, I thought I’d never have another chance to have a child of my own. I’ve tried so hard to suppress it—so hard to make my job, my life, be enough for me. And it’s got worse since Saskia had Flora. Every time I hold my god-daughter …’ The wave of longing was so strong, she could hardly breathe. ‘I never thought I’d be the broody type, but it doesn’t seem I have a choice in the matter. It’s her weight, the perfect size to cradle in my arms, her warmth, that new baby smell. Everything.’

‘So what happened? Did the doctors say why you miscarried?’

‘Just that it’s really common before twelve weeks. It happens to lots and lots of women.’

‘Did they do any tests?’

The question hurt, but his voice was so gentle. No judgement. No blame. ‘They don’t even consider looking into the causes until you’ve had at least three miscarriages.’ And that was the worst part. She tried to swallow the tears. ‘Gary didn’t want to take the chance of losing a third baby. And I guess I was a becoming a bit difficult to live with.’

‘What?’ Alex shook his head, as if trying to clear it. ‘Are you telling me he walked out on you, and said it was your fault?’

‘I …’ She let her head rest against his shoulder. ‘Yes,’ she admitted brokenly.

‘Right at this moment, I’d like to break every bone on his body, then peg him out in the desert in Turkey, smear him in honey and leave him to the ants.’

Isobel pulled back and stared at Alex in shock. She’d never, ever heard him sound angry like this before. Coldly, viciously angry.

‘But that’s not going to change the past—or the fact he hurt you. That he let you down when you needed him.’ Still keeping one arm wrapped round her, he stroked her cheek. ‘Here’s what we’re going to do. You want a baby.’

She dragged in a breath. ‘Yes.’

‘You helped me get what I want, Bel, so I’m going to do the same for you. After we get married, we’re going to try for a baby.’

‘But what if …’ She couldn’t bring herself to ask the rest of the question.

But he seemed to guess what she couldn’t say. ‘We’ll see how things go. And if it doesn’t work out, we’ll talk to the doctors. Get tests. Find out what the problem is and see what our options are.’

She swallowed hard. ‘I’m the problem.’

‘And how do you work that out?’

‘Gary has a baby now. So it can’t be him, can it?’

Alex smoothed the hair off her face. ‘I’m not a medic and I don’t know anywhere near enough about miscarriages to give an informed opinion. But things are never that clear-cut, Bel. Don’t blame yourself.’

She made a noncommittal murmur.

‘Seriously, Bel. Don’t blame yourself.’ He paused. ‘When you told me about Gary’s new partner and the baby, I thought you were upset because you were still in love with him.’

She shook her head. ‘My love for him died a long time ago. I don’t envy her because she has him. It’s because …’ Because of the baby. The baby she’d wanted so much herself. She paused. ‘Look, I understand if you want to call the wedding off.’

His eyes glittered. ‘Two weeks tomorrow, Isobel Martin, we’re getting married. And we’re going on honeymoon. And we’re going to make a family of our own.’

The tears she’d been trying so hard to hold back were suddenly too much for her. She could feel her eyes brimming, feel the wetness leaking down her face even though she tried to stop it.

With the pad of his thumb, Alex wiped the tears away. ‘This doesn’t change anything about our marriage, Bel. It just proves I’m right about love. It lets you down.’ He dipped his head to kiss her very lightly on the mouth. Gentle and unthreatening. ‘But I’m not going to let you down. That’s a promise.’

And Alex was the kind of man who always kept his promises.

‘Come on. Give me a smile,’ he coaxed.

She tried. And failed.

He rubbed the tip of his nose against hers. ‘I think you need food. Though I can’t cook because there’s nothing in the fridge. I’d planned to take you out to dinner, tonight.’

‘Alex, that’s lovely of you, but I’m really not hungry.’ Right then she felt as if food would choke her. And after baring her soul to Alex, she felt too raw, too exposed even to go out of the flat.

He stroked her cheek. ‘OK. I understand. So let’s stay in.’ He stroked her hair. ‘What I want to do right now is hold you close—just you and me, skin to skin. I’m not going to lie to you, Bel. I can’t promise that I’m going to make everything all right for you—but I can promise that I’m going to try my hardest.’

She let him draw her to her feet. Let him strip away her clothes, the way she’d stripped away her emotional barriers. He just held her in silence for a while, his arms wrapped protectively round her. And when they made love, later that night, Alex was so tender, so cherishing, that just for a while she allowed herself to believe that he felt the same way about her as she was beginning to feel about him. And maybe, just maybe, her dreams were going to come true.

The following morning, Isobel woke to an empty space beside her. Judging by how cold the sheets were, Alex had been gone for a while.

She pulled on a dressing gown and padded into the living room. Alex was curled up on the sofa, working on his laptop and nursing a mug of coffee. He looked up when she walked in and quickly saved whatever file he was working on. ‘Morning, Bel. I was going to wake you in about half an hour.’

‘It’s Saturday. How come you’re up so early?’ Because he’d had time to think about what she’d told him last night, and changed his mind?

‘I’m always awake early.’ He shrugged. ‘And you needed some sleep. I thought I’d work out here so I didn’t disturb you.’ There was a distinct twinkle in his eye. ‘Besides, I can hardly give you a surprise wedding day if you’re able to look over my shoulder and see what I’m doing.’

The knot of tension between her shoulders loosened slightly. ‘What’s to stop me doing that now?’

‘I’ve closed the file. And the whole lot’s password-protected, so it’s pointless you even trying to open it.’

‘I could,’ she said, pursing her lips, ‘hack my way in. I have friends who are good with computers and they’ll tell me how to do it if I ask them nicely.’

He laughed. ‘But you’re not going to, or I’ll tell the mums and they’ll nag you stupid. What time are they getting here?’

‘They’re not. I’m meeting them at the train station.’ She glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. ‘Oh, help. I didn’t realise it was that late!’ She frowned. ‘But my alarm didn’t go off.’ She hadn’t bothered looking at the clock before she got out of bed, assuming that she’d woken before her alarm went off.

‘I turned it off,’ he admitted, ‘because I thought you could do with some sleep.’

‘I’m going to be late now, and they’ll worry.’

‘They won’t. Go have your shower and I’ll text Mum to let her know.’

‘Alex, she never picks up texts. Better ring her or text Saskia instead,’ Isobel called from the bathroom door.

It was the quickest shower on record and for once she didn’t bother washing her hair. But by the time she was ready, Alex had a cup of coffee waiting for her. ‘I added enough cold water so you can drink it straight down,’ he said. When she’d done so, he handed her an apple and a banana. ‘Breakfast to go.’

‘Is this what you do when you’re on a project?’

He grinned. ‘Hey, it’s healthy. At least I wasn’t suggesting what some of my colleagues used to do—doughnuts and coffee with four sugars. Carb overload.’ He kissed her lightly. ‘See you when you get back. Have a good time.’

‘Thanks, Alex. And, um, about last night …’ She swallowed hard. ‘I wanted to say thank you. For understanding.’

He laid his palm against her cheek. ‘Stop worrying. This is me you’re talking to. There are no pedestals for either of us to fall off. Go and find yourself a nice frock.’ His lips twitched. ‘And a flame-coloured veil.’

Isobel met their mothers and Saskia as planned at the railway station, albeit slightly late. And although she tried to get some information out of them about the wedding, none of them would tell her a single thing about Alex’s plans.

‘He’d have our guts for garters,’ Marcia said. ‘No can do.’

‘But I promise you’ll love it,’ Saskia added.

Anna nodded agreement. ‘And I know now just how much Alex loves you—because he’s gone to a lot of trouble to make it the perfect day.’

He didn’t love her, Isobel thought. Not in the way her mother believed he did. But that was something she didn’t want to explain, so she allowed herself to be distracted by dresses.

‘This,’ Anna said, holding out a cream silk shift dress, ‘is perfect.’ She made Isobel try it on and come and pirouette for the three of them. ‘That’s the one,’ she said.

Meanwhile, Marcia found the perfect pair of high-heeled cream court shoes to go with the dress. And they had them in Isobel’s size.

‘That’s the difficult bit done, then.’ Saskia smiled. ‘And I need a coffee break after all that hard work.’

Next were the dresses for the mums. And after the fourth shop, Isobel rubbed the base of her spine. ‘Time out. We’ve been walking for ages. Coffee.’

Marcia looked at her and then at Saskia. ‘I’ve known you two all your lives—and I know full well you can shop all day without a break. Are you doing this because of me?’

‘Of course not,’ Isobel fibbed, but she couldn’t look Marcia in the eye.

‘You arranged this between you,’ Marcia said suspiciously. ‘Breaks practically on the hour. Look, I’m fine. I’m not ill.’

Isobel exchanged a look with her best friend. ‘OK. I admit it. We’re worried about you, Marcia. You’re not an invalid, but you’ve had a rough time with your health. We don’t want to push you too hard.’

‘You want to stay well for the wedding, don’t you?’ Saskia added.

Marcia scowled. ‘That’s emotional blackmail.’

‘But they’re right,’ Anna cut in gently. ‘They’re worried about you, Marcia.’ She smiled. ‘And I’m ten years older than you, so I vote for a rest, too.’

‘I give in,’ Marcia said ruefully.

‘So are you going to humour Alex about the flame-coloured veil?’ Saskia asked over coffee.