by Kay Thorpe
The media circus got under way without delay. PRINCE CHARMING TO WED HIS CINDERELLA blared one trite headline, HARLOW MAGNATES TO SEAL PARTNERSHIP FOR LIFE another. Gina grew rapidly weary of turning down the requests for interviews, for TV appearances; of dodging cameras wherever they went; of the sheer pressure of being in the public eye.
‘Why are they making so much of it?’ she asked Ross one morning after running a whole gauntlet of photographers outside the house. ‘I know the Harlow name has a lot of standing, but they’ve the whole of Hollywood to go at for copy of the kind they’re after, for heaven’s sake!’
‘As I told you before, the storyline is pure Hollywood,’ he said. ‘It will blow over. In the meantime, I’m afraid you’ll just have to grin and bear it.’
They were in his office. Gina had called in on her way to attend a charity luncheon her future mother-in-law had arranged. Shirtsleeves rolled, he was leafing through a whole sheaf of literature concerning a South American property they were considering. Viewing the dark head, the hairline crisp against bronzed skin, she felt the familiar constriction in the pit of her stomach.
Drawn into the welter of wedding arrangements, she hadn’t been able to spend much time here herself, and she’d seen little enough of him the past couple of weeks. They’d attended one or two functions, and she’d met a lot of people, but they hadn’t spent a solitary night together since Vancouver.
Not that he’d have spent all his alone, she was certain.
‘My parents arrive tomorrow,’ she said. ‘Are you going to be free to come with me to the airport?’
‘Should be,’ he agreed without looking up. ‘I’ve a lunch appointment with Isabel, but nothing after that. Isabel Dantry,’ he added, sensing the unspoken question. ‘The investment banker? You’ll be needing advice yourself once everything’s settled. I’ll have to introduce you.’
‘I may not want to invest,’ she said. ‘We’re not all into the must-have-more syndrome. The whole point of having money is to enjoy it, not just sit watching it grow!’
That did get a result. Ross studied her speculatively, taking in the spots of high colour on her cheekbones. ‘Your genuine opinion, or just bloody-mindedness?’
‘What would I have to be bloody-minded about?’ she asked.
‘You tell me,’ he invited. ‘You’re obviously here for a purpose.’
‘I came to ask you about the airport.’
‘You could have done that on the phone.’
‘So maybe I’m just sick and tired of this whole fiasco!’ she burst out, giving way to the emotions that had been eating into her for days. ‘Maybe I’m regretting ever agreeing to it in the first place!’
‘Too late.’ His tone was deceptively mild. ‘You burned your bridges when you gave the go-ahead.’
She’d burned a whole lot more in allowing herself to fall for him, she thought bitterly. All she was to him was a means to an end.
‘Bear up,’ he said. ‘In four days we’ll be in Barbados with it all behind us. The house has its own private beach. We can swim in the nude, make love under the stars. Sound good?’
‘Idyllic.’ She looked at her watch. ‘I’d better be on my way.’
‘How’s my mother getting there?’ he asked as she rose to her feet.
‘Michael is driving her in. I’m using the Cadillac.’ She kept her tone level. ‘Time I got to grips with the system.’
‘Sure.’ His attention was already drifting back to the file still in his hand. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, then.’
Penny had been missing when Gina had arrived, but she was at her desk now. She looked up with a smile.
‘Hi! How’s it all going?’
Gina forced a smile in return. ‘Swimmingly! How are you?’
‘Wonderful! Just coming up to the twelfth week!’
Until this moment, Gina had totally forgotten the other woman was pregnant. She made an appropriate response, unable to deny a certain envy. Penny had a real marriage, a good marriage—the kind she’d always imagined for herself.
The fear that she might be pregnant had proved groundless, for which she could only be thankful. She was on the Pill now, though it wasn’t going to be necessary because she wouldn’t be sleeping with Ross again under any circumstances. She’d had enough of being used.
CHAPTER EIGHT
THE Saxtons arrived on an early-evening flight from Heathrow looking typically travel-weary after the long haul. They greeted Ross with reservation.
‘I have to say, it’s not the way we’d have preferred,’ Leslie Saxton declared, ‘but Gina is old enough to make her own decisions. All we ask is that you take care of her. She’s very precious to us.’
‘She’s very precious to me too,’ Ross assured him.
True enough, considering what he stood to lose without her, the she in question thought hardly.
‘Will you stop talking about me as if I’m not here!’ she exclaimed, summoning a laugh. ‘We’d better get out to the car before Michael gets moved on.’
‘Michael?’ her mother queried.
‘Elinor’s chauffeur. She’s really eager to see you both.’
The two of them were quiet on the journey. Gina had a very good idea how they were feeling. She’d been more than a bit overwhelmed by it all herself on arrival. She was still in many ways.
She cast a swift glance at the man occupying the other pull-down seat, pulses quickening as always to the impact of his dark good looks. There was no turning off the physical attraction, but her resolution remained strong. He was in for a rude awakening.
Elinor was warm and welcoming without gushing. She left it to Gina to show the newcomers to the bedroom they’d be occupying for the length of their stay, inviting them back down for a light supper when they’d sorted themselves out a little.
‘I can see why you wouldn’t want to give all this up,’ Jean Saxton observed on the way to the room. ‘It’s a whole different world. But why rush into marriage the way you’re doing?’
Gina had only told them she’d been left the shares, not the rest, but they were going to find out sooner or later.
‘Oliver made it a condition that Ross and I married,’ she said, bracing herself for the inevitable reaction.
Jean stopped in mid-step, her pleasantly featured face expressing a multitude of emotions. ‘You mean you don’t even have any feelings for him?’
‘I didn’t say that.’ Gina did her best to sound positive. ‘It’s simply happening sooner than it might have done in normal circumstances.’
‘But it isn’t exactly a love match?’
‘Not in the accepted sense, perhaps.’
‘What other sense is there?’ Jean sounded disturbed. ‘You’ve changed since you came here, Gina. There’s a hardness in you that was never there before.’
‘It’s called self-confidence,’ she returned lightly. ‘Something you have to develop to survive in this neck of the woods. You don’t have to worry about me, Mom. I really do know what I’m doing.’
‘You said that before, and I didn’t believe it then,’ Jean rejoined. ‘I know you’re not our own flesh and blood, but we love you, Gina. Of course we’re going to worry!’
‘I think we’d better move on,’ Leslie put in diplomatically. ‘We can talk later.’
Gina saw them to the bedroom, closing the door on them feeling thoroughly ashamed. She was still deceiving them. Elinor too.
Ross was seated out on the terrace alone. He regarded her shrewdly as she joined him. ‘Trouble?’
‘I told them about the condition,’ she said. ‘They’re far from over the moon about it.’
‘Maybe you should have left them in happy ignorance, then.’
‘And have someone else fill them in? Not that they were happy about it anyway.’
Ross surveyed her for a moment, brows drawn. ‘And how do you feel?’
‘Oh, ecstatic!’ She made no attempt to downplay the irony. ‘I’m going to be a millionairess. What could be better t
han that?’
‘If you’re thinking about backing out again, you can forget it,’ he said on a harder note. ‘We’ve come this far, we’ll go the rest. What brought this mood on anyway? You were fine about it until yesterday.’
She’d been fine until he left her to stew for two weeks, she could have told him, but that would be giving too much away.
‘I’d convinced myself that money made up for everything else we’re missing,’ she lied. ‘I was wrong.’
‘I wouldn’t say we’re missing all that much,’ he rejoined.
‘You mean the sex?’ She lifted her shoulders, fighting to maintain control. ‘You can get that anywhere. So can I, if it comes to that. Oh, I’ll go through with it, don’t worry. I’ve got too used to the good life to turn it down on a point of principle. Did you manage to trace Roxanne?’
He accepted the sudden switch without comment, face expressionless. ‘She’s in Phoenix. Been there some weeks apparently, with some man she met in Frisco.’
‘She’ll be at the wedding?’
‘I didn’t get to speak to her. The man she’s living with said she was resting and didn’t want to be disturbed. He’s to pass on the message. What she does about it is entirely up to her.’
He got to his feet as her parents emerged from the house along with his mother, tone easy again. ‘How about a drink before we eat? I always find it a good way to wind down after a long flight.’
The evening was long, conversation stilted. Gina couldn’t blame her parents for feeling the way they did. She should have told them everything from the beginning, she acknowledged ruefully. It would at least have given them time to come to some kind of terms.
Elinor made every effort to keep things going, but it was a losing battle. Jean broke the party up at ten, claiming she could hardly keep her eyes open.
‘I think I’ll have an early night myself,’ Elinor said when the Saxtons had departed. ‘There are things I have to catch up on.’
‘Do you need any help?’ Gina offered, reluctant to be left alone with Ross.
The other shook her head. ‘Nothing to do with the wedding. That’s all in hand now. Don’t make a noise when you leave,’ she told her son. ‘You know how sound carries at night up here. We’ve a full programme planned for tomorrow.’
‘I’ll watch it,’ he promised. ‘I shan’t be long, anyway. I’ve a heavy day tomorrow too.’
Gina picked up her wine glass and drained it as Elinor departed, putting it down again with a thud. ‘I think I’ll do the same,’ she said.
‘Not yet.’ Ross spoke quietly but with purpose. ‘We need to talk.’
‘I said all I needed to say earlier,’ she returned. ‘Wrong time, wrong place, if it’s sex you’ve got in mind.’
The spark that sprang in the grey eyes was pulse-jerking. ‘If it was, we wouldn’t be sitting here. Sorry if I haven’t been dancing attendance as much as you’d like this past week or two. I’ve been pretty tied up.’
She didn’t doubt it. The question was, with whom?
‘Just how long will we have to stay married?’ she asked, keeping a tight rein on her tongue.
The expression that crossed the lean features was come and gone too fast for analysis. ‘A few months, maybe.’
‘It’s that easy to get divorced over here?’
‘It can be, providing both parties are in agreement.’
‘Maybe you should have me sign a pre-nuptial agreement,’ she said. ‘After all, you’ll still be worth a lot more than I will.’
His lips twisted. ‘If you’re going to keep this up, I’ll leave you to that early night.’
Gina got up with him, steeling herself not to weaken. ‘Will you be here tomorrow?’
‘My best man’s due in from Vegas at five,’ he said. ‘We might make it for dinner. Otherwise, I’ll see you in church.’
He made no attempt to kiss her, unsurprisingly, just turned and went. Gina stood for several minutes where he’d left her, wishing her grandfather had left well alone. Discounting the mistake she’d made over the business, she’d been happy enough in her old life. She’d certainly have been a whole lot better off never knowing Ross existed.
While never fully relaxing her guard, Jean loosened up a little over the course of a day spent touring the city. She and Leslie had been living and working in Bakersfield at the time of the adoption, so LA wasn’t exactly new territory, though they found it strange after twenty-five years in a totally different environment.
Back at the house by four, Gina took advantage of the afternoon sun to chill out for an hour down at the pool, needing to be alone for a while.
This time tomorrow she would be on her way to the church. One of the city’s grandest, naturally. Every bride was supposed to dream of her big day, where she’d be the centre of attention, but not every bride was called on to face the degree of attention she was going to be undergoing tomorrow. And for what? A marriage already scheduled to end. She could make Ross pay dearly by refusing to agree to the divorce, of course, but what was the use?
Elinor came to join her, looking a little concerned. ‘You’ve been so quiet all day,’ she said. ‘Are you OK?’
‘Just a bit tired,’ Gina claimed. ‘I didn’t get much sleep last night.’
‘You’ll probably get even less tonight,’ Elinor observed. ‘I didn’t sleep at all the night before I married Oliver. I’m so glad he found you again. Not just for his sake, but for mine and Ross’s too. I’m gaining a daughter, Ross the kind of wife I always hoped he’d have some day. Apart from having Oliver here with us, I couldn’t be happier than I am right now.’
Gina murmured some response, feeling lower than ever. Elinor might be living in cloud cuckoo land where the marriage was concerned, but she was such a genuine person. She deserved so much better than this.
She went up to shower and dress for the evening at six, coming down to find Ross had arrived with his best man, Brady Leeson. She already knew Brady had been the third man on the Vancouver Island venture. Ruggedly attractive beneath a shock of bright copper hair, he greeted her with frank admiration.
‘The description didn’t do you justice,’ he said.
He would know the reason for the marriage, Gina assumed, wondering just what the description had been. Whether Ross would have told him all of it was open to doubt. She avoided looking at the latter directly, though she could feel his gaze on her. He was still angry with her; she could feel that too. He was going to be angrier still tomorrow night—for what good it would do him.
The two of them left again soon after dinner. Not to take advantage of an early night, Gina suspected. She went up herself at ten, leaving her parents to Elinor.
She expected to be awake half the night worrying about all she had to face the next day, but she slept right through till seven. Mental exhaustion, she reckoned. The morning passed with excruciating slowness. She ate lunch only because both her mother and Elinor insisted she have something on her stomach to see her through until the reception. Five o’clock in the afternoon seemed a strange time to hold a wedding, but it was quite the done thing here.
She’d already met the twins who were to be her bridesmaids. They arrived at one, along with the hairdresser and beautician. Outnumbered, Leslie made himself scarce until it was time to don his own wedding outfit.
Elinor, Jean and the bridesmaids left the house at four in a white stretch limousine. Gina and her father were to travel in a vintage Rolls-Royce, which would also carry her and Ross to the reception.
Watching her descend the stairs in the lovely, classically styled white gown, Leslie blinked hard on the moisture gathering in the corners of his eyes. ‘You look so beautiful,’ he said. ‘We’re going to miss you!’
‘I’m going to miss you too,’ she said truthfully, despising herself for doing this to them. ‘But it isn’t as if we’re never going to see one another again. I’ll come over as often as I can.’
If Leslie noticed that she said ‘I’ rather than ‘we�
�, he didn’t comment on it.
The Rolls drew a lot of attention on the journey downtown. Gina had anticipated some media attention, but was totally unprepared for the crowds of watchers gathered behind rope barriers outside the church, for the banks of cameras, the television crews. Flash bulbs almost blinded her as she traversed the red carpet spread across the pavement. It took everything she had to keep a smile on her face. The bride must at least look blissful.
It was something of a relief to gain the shelter of the church entrance, where the twins in their garnet dresses awaited her, but it was only the start. Packed rows of faces all turned her way as they started down the aisle to the strains of the ‘Canon in D’ by Johann Pachelbel.
Standing at the aisle end of the third row from the front, sapphire eyes glittering beneath her wide-brimmed cream hat, Dione Richards was only too recognisable. Gina doubted if Elinor would have added her name to the guest list, considering recent associations, which meant Ross must have. But then, why not? The congregation was probably peppered with his conquests.
Looking superb in a dark blue tuxedo, he awaited her coming at the foot of the red-carpeted steps leading to the altar proper. Gina felt her throat contract as she met his eyes, her chest go tight as a drum.
‘I see you put your hair up,’ he murmured with an ironic tilt to his lips as she took her place by his side.
‘I thought the occasion warranted it this time,’ she said.
Time moved in a series of impressions after that: the solemnity of the service; signing the register; walking back down the aisle on the arm of the man now her husband, narrowly suppressing the urge to blow a kiss to Dione; facing the mêlée outside again.
‘Thank God that’s over!’ Ross exclaimed in the car taking the two of them on to the reception. He studied her face, making no attempt to touch her. ‘You look wonderful!’
‘I feel like an exhibit,’ she said. Conscious of the lack of a screen between them and the chauffeur, she made an effort to lighten both tone and expression. ‘I didn’t expect quite so many people out there.’