CHAPTER TWELVE

“YOU’VEMISTAKENME for someone who forgives easily. I’m not,” were Leander’s last words before he closed her into her car in the underground parking lot of the penthouse.

Ilona sputtered with laughter, besotted as she turned her head to watch him while her car pulled away and he moved across to his own. She was giddy with sex hormones and wedding excitement and stupid, cupid love. She closed her eyes as she came into the light, holding onto the image of his stern, unsmiling profile, adoring him.

At the rehearsal dinner last night, Susan had cornered Leander into picking her up this morning to bring her to the wedding, suggesting he breakfast with her since Ilona was going to the house early, meeting the team who would help her dress.

You’re not supposed to see your bride until the wedding anyway. It’s bad luck, Susan had scolded him.

They still hadn’t told anyone they were already married. They were also the only ones who knew they had consummated that marriage. Three torrid times. Those memories from yesterday afternoon, from last night before they fell asleep, then again this morning were delicious secrets Ilona held close inside herself where they warmed her all the way until she arrived at the house.

Feodor met her, already run off his feet. “The WiFi is spotty and of course the florist hasn’t arrived yet,” he muttered. “Hercules texted best wishes and said he’s still willing to give you away.”

If things had been different, she might have asked him to.

“Tell him Leander’s mother will walk me up the aisle.” Originally, she and Leander had planned to walk in together, but Susan had asked for the honor last night. Ilona couldn’t refuse her, not when it made her feel as though she was being accepted into his life.

She went upstairs where she spent the next two hours being primped and pampered and polished. When her makeup was flawless and flowers intricately woven into her gathered locks and she had nibbled enough of an omelet to tide her over through the next hours, she was laced into her gown.

It was fitted through the bodice and hips then flared midthigh. Its long bell sleeves were made of pure lace. Diamanté crystals were strategically woven throughout to create flashes of rainbow brilliance. Like the sleeves, her back was bare skin beneath fine, netted lace with delicate floral patterns and two dozen tiny pearl buttons down her spine.

She felt more beautiful than she ever had in her life.

What would Leander think, she wondered?

“Is Leander here?” she asked. The sound of musicians tuning their instruments had become soothing background melodies while the din of gathering voices had grown.

“He might be having trouble getting in,” someone said. “The drive is clogged by cars dropping guests.”

“I suppose,” Ilona said, but her stomach curdled.

Midas, she thought. If anything went wrong today, he would be to blame. But for some reason, her mind went back to what Leander had said as they had parted this morning.

You’ve mistaken me for someone who forgives easily.

She had thought he meant he wasn’t prepared to forgive his mother.

Now, as she moved so she could see the growing crowd assembling on the lawn, she wondered if he had meant her. A Pagonis.

Her stomach cramped again.

Two hundred people had been invited. They spilled onto the grounds, eating hors d’oeuvres and drinking champagne, waiting to convene in the rows of chairs on either side of the white-carpeted aisle before an arbor that had been built for the occasion.

He already married me, she reassured herself. There would be no point in leaving her at the altar.

Except to humiliate her.

Her stomach kept taking dizzying swoops of grim premonition.

“Ilona?” Feodor came into the lounge where she was hovering. He looked pale. Two men stood behind him, both wearing police uniforms.

Her heart nearly came out her throat. “Is Leander here?” she asked, hearing the desperation in her own voice.

“No. And, um...”

“Ilona Callas?” One man introduced himself as a lieutenant inspector. “You have to come with us. You’re under arrest for trafficking narcotics.”

Midas has done this. That’s what Ilona told herself for the first two hours, while she waited for her lawyer to appear.


Tags: Dani Collins Billionaire Romance