He shrugged. ‘We always thought he might marry Amy.’
Lucy nodded, recognising the name immediately. Of course. Amy. Drakon’s business partner—and the woman who had bought his prospective bride a wardrobe of beautiful new clothes. The elusive Amy who was currently in Singapore wheeling and dealing and had apparently been unable to make the ceremony. She’d wondered if Amy’s explanation of back-to-back meetings had been true, or whether it had been too painful for her to watch Drakon take another woman as his bride. Lucy hoped her expression didn’t give her feelings away as insecurity began to pump through her veins. Instead, she aimed for the calmness she’d always been able to project even in the most trying circumstances—and this was hardly up there with those, was it?
‘We haven’t actually met,’ she said, managing to produce a smile from somewhere.
Milo turned his head as there was some sort of commotion over by the double set of gilded doors and a murmur went up around the ball
room. ‘Well, I think that’s just about to change,’ he said.
Lucy followed the direction of his gaze in time to witness the entrance of the most beautiful woman she had ever seen. The rich emerald material of her slinky dress provided a luscious backdrop for the shiny hair which spilled over her narrow shoulders like melted dark chocolate. Her lips were as red as the berries in the garlands of holly and people were crowding around her making spontaneous whoops of joy—their behaviour in marked contrast to the wariness they’d displayed when introduced to Lucy.
Amy’s dark eyes were searching the room until they alighted on the bride and Lucy felt her heart give a great lurch as Milo spoke.
‘Here’s Amy,’ he said quietly. ‘And she’s heading this way.’
CHAPTER SIX
‘DON’T LOOK LIKE THAT,’ Drakon instructed softly.
‘Like what?’
‘Like a sacrificial lamb all poised and ready for slaughter. Close the bathroom door, agape mou, and come over here so that I can take off your wedding dress as quickly as possible and make love to you, as I have been badly longing to do for so long.’
But Lucy felt paralysed and unable to move. Struck by unwanted fears and an apprehension which was making her limbs feel awkward and heavy. She was trying to blame it on the long day—on the tension leading up to the ceremony itself and the supreme weight of her heavy gown—but deep inside she knew the real cause of her anxiety.
She licked lips which had grown as dry as bone. Because she’d met Amy. She hadn’t wanted to, but she’d liked Amy. She’d liked her very much. Her warm American voice had sounded both friendly and genuine. She’d found herself wishing that Amy had chosen her wedding dress because she was a damned sight sure it would have been more flattering than the one she’d ended up wearing. Remembering Milo’s words, Lucy had even found herself wondering why Drakon hadn’t married the stunning partner who’d been with him for years—when she seemed so beautiful and confident and fitted into his world much better than Lucy ever could.
Her confidence had been battered by the meeting but somehow she had managed to survive the toasts and the dancing before Drakon had whispered that it was time for them to slip away. And now she was standing nervously in the honeymoon suite of the Granchester Hotel, about to begin her married life with a man she didn’t really know.
She swallowed, removing the fragrant garland of roses and the attached veil from her head and placing both on a nearby table. Should she ask if he still wanted to go through with this? If seeing Amy had made him realise what a dumb thing he’d done by marrying someone like Lucy Phillips? Because if he had changed his mind then perhaps they could still get the marriage annulled before they actually consummated it. She was certain that was legally possible and it would certainly be a mature thing to suggest. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came. All she could feel was the rush of hot colour to her cheeks.
‘Still she stands there like a frightened lamb, which makes me realise I shall have to come to you instead, my blushing bride.’ Drakon’s words were cajoling as he began to walk across the marbled floor towards her, but he moved with the stealthy intent of a dark panther who had just spotted its helpless prey. He had removed his jacket and tie and undone the top buttons of his dress shirt and, with his olive skin glowing and black hair ruffled, he looked relaxed and supremely poised. Unlike her, who was feeling completely overdressed and had started trembling violently, despite the warmth of the room.
He reached her at last and touched his fingertips to her cheek, slowly trailing their tips downwards until they reached the quivering outline of her lips. He bent to brush his mouth over hers in a slow kiss, before raising his head to look at her, his eyes still narrowed speculatively. ‘Don’t look so scared, Lucy,’ he murmured. ‘There’s no reason to be. I mean, it isn’t as if we’ve never done this before, is it?’
But never as man and wife, thought Lucy desperately—the sweet magic of his kiss fading as the enormity of her actions hit her. People said getting married needn’t change anything but of course it did—otherwise, why would anyone bother? Because she wasn’t just starry-eyed Lucy Phillips any more—the virgin who’d had a crush on him since for ever. Now she was the billionaire’s wife and mother to his son—and suddenly she felt like an imposter. ‘It just feels...different.’
‘Then maybe we should stop overthinking it and just rely on our senses to do the work for us. What do you think? Turn around,’ he said softly, without waiting for an answer.
She’d actually thought he couldn’t bear to look at her anxious face but realised he wanted to undo each tiny hook of her wedding gown, his fingertips tiptoeing enticingly over her sensitive flesh. As the corseted bodice came apart and the cool air hit her skin, Lucy closed her eyes and silently practised different ways of asking the questions which had been plaguing her throughout the reception.
Tell me about Amy. How long have you known her? Have you ever made love to her? Or wanted to?
But Drakon’s lips were following in the wake of his fingers. They were whispering over her back and trailing over her quivering flesh as he formed a featherlight path of kisses from neck to waist. Her skin flowered into goosepimples wherever he touched her and against her lacy bra, she could feel the insistent pushing of her nipples. Lucy sucked in a shuddering breath as he turned her around to face him again. The gleam of desire in his black eyes made something clench deep inside her and she wondered if she had taken complete leave of her senses. How could she possibly shatter the mood by asking him about another woman at a time like this?
‘Now,’ he murmured. ‘Why don’t we get rid of this dress completely?’
She heard the rueful note in his voice and was instantly on the defensive. ‘You don’t like it?’
He smiled as he traced a slow finger along the modest neckline of her very traditional gown. ‘I thought it was perfectly appropriate for the entrance of my beautiful bride, but looser and freer is what I have in mind for what happens next.’
He slid the embossed satin of her gown over each shoulder and let the entire confection fall to the ground before effortlessly lifting her from the vast canopy of stiffened petticoats, until she was standing before him in just her white lacy underwear, hold-up stockings and spiky white high-heeled shoes. Slowly, he studied her and his black gaze felt as if it were scorching her skin where it lingered. ‘Much better,’ he said, and his voice was unsteady. ‘Though I’m now feeling a little overdressed. Any ideas how we might redress the balance, Lucy?’
Lucy felt suddenly stricken with shyness as she lifted her fingers to his chest. Was he wondering what had happened to the uninhibited person she’d been back in the summer when he had awoken her sexuality and her appetite for him had been wild and untamed? She was wondering the same thing herself. But back then it had felt as if she had nothing to lose, while now the stakes seemed significantly higher. Yet wasn’t she in danger of sabotaging their union before it had even started if she wasn’t careful?
So snap out of it. Enjoy your wedding night with your gorgeous new husband. Make this so good he’ll never want to look elsewhere for his pleasure.
‘I have some idea,’ she murmured. ‘Let me help you out of this shirt.’