‘Very.’ Angelique stretched her mouth into a smile. ‘In fact, you would not believe quite how traditional it—’
Remy pulled her tightly against his shoulder. ‘Right, show’s over, folks. We’ve got things to do.’
‘Miss Marchand, there’s been some speculation going around on whether or not Remy has followed the example of his older brothers in not making his bride sign a pre-nuptial agreement. That’s surprising, given the Caffarellis’ wealth. Is that true in your case?’
Angelique felt Remy’s hold on her tighten to the point of pain. But then he seemed to force himself to relax, although she could still feel the tension in him as he stood with his arm loosely around her shoulders. ‘Yes, that’s true,’ she said in dulcet tones. Two could play at this game. ‘It just goes to show how much he loves and trusts me.’
‘Will you show us your rings?’ a female journalist said.
‘No rings as yet,’ Remy said. ‘We’re still waiting for them to be finished. I’m afraid I didn’t give the designer enough notice.’
Angelique looked up at him with feigned affection. ‘It was an impulsive, spur-of-the-moment proposal, wasn’t it, mon cher? You just couldn’t hold it in any longer, could you?’
His dark-brown eyes warned her she would be paying for this later but right now Angelique didn’t care. ‘That’s right,’ he said. ‘I couldn’t wait to make her my wife. Now, if you’ll excuse us...’
‘One last question, Miss Marchand,’ the female journalist said. ‘Does your marriage to Remy Caffarelli mean there is now an end to the bitter feud between your father and Remy’s grandfather, or are you star-crossed lovers?’
‘Um...’
‘I’m sure Henri Marchand will be thrilled to know his daughter has married a man who worships the ground she walks on,’ Remy said smoothly.
‘So you didn’t ask his permission, then?’ the female journalist asked with a cheeky smile.
Remy gave the journalist a level look. ‘I did not believe that was necessary. Angelique is an adult and does not need her father’s permission to do anything, much less marry the man she has loved since she was a teenager.’
‘Is that true, Miss Marchand?’ The journalist swung the recording device back to Angelique. ‘Have you been in love with Remy since you were a girl?’
Angelique felt her teeth grind together behind her smile. ‘Absolutely. Head over heels. Besotted. Totally, utterly smitten.’
Remy held up a hand to field off further questions. ‘That’s all, folks. No further comment.’
He practically dragged her into the building with him. ‘Hey, not so fast,’ Angelique said, almost stumbling over the pavement. ‘I’m wearing heels.’
He slowed his pace but his grip on her hand didn’t loosen. ‘Behave yourself, Angelique, or you might find your time with me unnecessarily unpleasant.’
She threw him a caustic look. ‘More than it is already?’
His expression was deceptively cool and composed but she knew she had riled him to the edge of his control. She felt it in the tense grip of his fingers. ‘If you want to get your way at the end of this then you’ll have to play the part of the happy bride, especially in public. Do you understand?’
‘So, you agree to give me Tarrantloch?’
A steely glint came into his eyes. ‘We’ll see.’
Angelique narrowed her gaze in anger. ‘If you don’t give me a straight yes or no then I’m going to walk back out there and tell those journalists this is nothing but a sham.’
His hold on her wrist tightened like a vice. ‘You’re not going anywhere, young lady. For once in your life, you’re going to do as you’re told. That will make a refreshing change for you, n’est-ce pas?’
‘Welcome back, Mr Caffarelli,’ the hotel manager said as he came over to shake Remy’s hand. ‘A little bird tells me congratulations are in order. On behalf of all of us here, may I wish you both a very happy future together.’
‘Merci,’ Remy said with a polished smile.
Angelique had to bite her tongue not to blurt out the truth but she knew in the end she would be the one to look foolish. Remy had a knack for turning things to his advantage. Didn’t the last twenty-four hours prove it? He was going to make the most of being married to her.
Damn him!
‘How long are you staying with us?’ the manager asked.
‘Just tonight,’ Remy said. ‘We’ll be moving on first thing in the morning. If you could keep the press away from us, I would greatly appreciate it, Thomas.’