And of course the wedding attracted even more attention because of the presence of her notorious grandfather. Dimitrios Philipos so rarely appeared in public that his presence alone was enough to draw a crowd of fascinated on-lookers. Everyone wanted to witness a public meeting between Fiorukis and Philipos. Everyone was anticipating fireworks.
Sebastien had handled the attention and simmering speculation with an air of almost bored disdain, ignoring reporters, greeting guests with just the right amount of attention and interest, as comfortable and confident as he’d been during that first awful meeting.
In contrast, Alesia had taken one horrified look at the jostling, over-excited paparazzi and kept her eyes firmly fixed on the ground in an attempt to blot out what was happening.
She didn’t want people to be interested in her.
She knew that journalists had a way of digging up secrets.
What if they dug up hers?
What if something happened to stop the wedding? To prevent her mother from having the operation she so badly needed?
Terrified that someone would say something to halt the ceremony, she’d stood at the front of the church like a frightened rabbit, hardly daring to breathe in case she drew attention to herself, in case someone recognized her for the impostor that she was.
She’d worn the long white wedding dress that her grandfather had presented her with, pulled the veil over her face and hoped that none of the guests would notice her wan face or the fact that she was seriously out of her depth. Playing the role of rich heiress was totally new to her.
When she realized that they were safely married the relief had been so great that she’d almost passed out.
Once or twice it had crossed her mind that this wasn’t the way weddings were supposed to be, that this was supposed to be a happy day. But then she reminded herself firmly that she’d never been one to dream and fantasize about weddings, so it wasn’t possible for her to be disappointed that hers hadn’t lived up to expectation. She didn’t have any expectation.
‘You could try and look a little more like an excited bride and less like someone being led to torture,’ Sebastien suggested silkily, snapping his fingers at the waiter and indicating that he should top up their glasses. ‘This is, after all, what you wanted. You’ve landed yourself a billionaire. Smile.’
Alesia grabbed the glass gratefully and drank deeply, her loathing for Sebastien Fiorukis increasing by the minute. He was cold, unfeeling and just horrid. At least she was thoroughly uncomfortable with the situation but he just didn’t seem to care that they didn’t even like each other.
All right, so she was marrying him for the money, she conceded, but that was completely different because she was desperate. Unlike him. He was already a billionaire. He already had one company. Only someone who was impossibly greedy could want two!
Alesia shivered as she contemplated the man she’d married.
He was just like her grandfather. Rich, successful, restless and never satisfied.
Maybe champagne would help. She didn’t normally drink but wasn’t alcohol supposed to numb the senses? She sincerely hoped so. The way she was feeling, she needed her senses rendered unconscious. Returning the empty glass to the table, she sucked several breaths into her lungs and tried hard to forget that everyone was watching her. Speculating. Why hadn’t someone warned her that Sebastien had such a large family? And so many friends—
‘I wasn’t expecting all this—’
‘It’s called a wedding,’ Sebastien said helpfully, smiling briefly at a stunning woman who cast a longing glance towards him as she slid past on the arm of a male guest, ‘and it’s what you signed up for when you agreed to marry me for my money. Enjoy it. It’s costing enough. Look on it as retail therapy.’
Money.
Grateful for the reminder, Alesia took another slug of champagne and forced herself to focus. All she had to do was remember the money. The reason she was doing this. It didn’t matter that everyone was staring at her. It didn’t matter that everyone was wondering why Sebastien Fiorukis had chosen to marry her. It didn’t matter that she felt lonelier than she had in her whole life. All that mattered was that at last—finally—her beloved mother would get the treatment she needed so badly.
She glanced sideways at the man sitting next to her. The man she’d married. He lounged beside her, totally relaxed and well within his comfort zone, as if marrying a total stranger was something he did every day of his life. Outwardly he was the type of man women the world round drooled over. Sophisticated, spoiled and so ridiculously wealthy that he could never have understood in a million years how it felt to be poor. How it felt to be so desperate for money that you’d do anything—even marry a man you’d been raised to hate.