Aristide's Convenient Wife

Home > Other > Aristide's Convenient Wife > Page 13
Aristide's Convenient Wife Page 13

by Jaqeuline Baird


  She lifted sparkling eyes to his, and he saw her pupils darken and dilate. He slipped a hand around her neck and watched as her eyelids drifted down, her lips softly parting in anticipation of his kiss.

  ‘I don’t dare or we will never get out of here,’ he groaned, and abruptly he dropped one hand to her tiny waist and spun her back to face the mirror.

  ‘What do you think?’

  Helen felt the coldness on her skin and upon seeing her reflection in the glass her eyes widened in amazement at the fabulous fall of diamonds strung around her throat. She lifted her hand and touched the jewels, lifting her eyes to meet his in the mirror.

  ‘Leon,’ she murmured his name, overwhelmed by his gift. ‘You bought this for me?’

  He smiled slightly. ‘Yes, our six-week anniversary. Do you like it?’

  ‘I love it,’ she said truthfully, stunned that he had cared enough to actually remember how many weeks they had been married. ‘It is the most fabulous gift I have ever received. Thank you.’

  She had to blink away an emotional tear. Then she remembered. ‘But I thought you never went shopping for presents.’

  ‘I had some help,’ he confessed ruefully, and, wrapping his arms around her stomach, he pulled her back against the hard warmth of his body. ‘I asked Mary to make sure you bought a dress and to tell me what kind of jewellery would match. She said to stick to diamonds, making it easy for me.’ Loosening his hold on her, he slipped his hand in his jacket pocket. ‘I bought the earrings and bracelet to match.’ He clipped the bracelet around her slender wrist. ‘You can manage the earrings yourself, I hope.’ He placed them in her hand. ‘Because if I hold you much longer that is it, we will be going nowhere.’

  Helen had felt the pressure of his arousal against her and a gleam of mischief sparkled in her eyes.

  ‘That’s fine by me.’

  She turned and looped her arms around his neck. ‘I would much prefer to stay here.’ She pressed up against him and tilted back her head to look up into his darkening eyes. ‘Parties are not my scene. I much prefer one to one,’ she declared softly, her full lips curving in a slow, sensual smile.

  ‘No, you don’t, you little witch, I am not being sidetracked,’ he declared with a reluctant smile. ‘But hold that thought until we return, hmm?’

  His unexpected gift and commanding presence at her side gave her the confidence to stand at the entrance to the grand ballroom and greet all the guests.

  With Leon’s arm around her Helen glanced up at him, her violet eyes sparkling. ‘I feel like royalty standing here. Do we have to do this?’

  ‘Not for much longer,’ he murmured, and then someone called his name and his arm suddenly tightened around her waist.

  ‘Takis, nice to see you. I wasn’t sure you would make it.’

  Helen cast a sidelong glance at Leon, immediately sensing he was not pleased to see the man at all. Then she looked at the man standing in front of them, her eyes widening in instinctive female appreciation. He was of medium height, slim with black hair and strikingly handsome in a rakish kind of way.

  ‘I wouldn’t miss your wedding party for the world. I attended your first one, remember?’ the man drawled.

  He looked Greek, but he spoke with an American accent, Helen noted, and then he smiled and his brown eyes gleamed golden as they met hers.

  ‘So this is Helen.’ Taking her unresisting hand, he lifted it to his lips. ‘It is a pleasure to meet you, and a surprise. I never thought Leon had such good taste, stick-like models are more his scene. But you, babe, you are exquisite, a perfect little Barbie doll.’

  Helen was still trying to decide if it was an insult or a compliment to be called a babe and a Barbie doll in the same sentence when he turned his attention back to Leon.

  ‘A beautiful wife and a son as well—you are a lucky bastard, cousin.’

  ‘Thank you, Takis,’ Leon said smoothly. ‘I knew you would be pleased for me. Now if you will excuse us, it is time we mingled.’

  She wasn’t imagining it; the tension between the two men was palpable. Helen glanced curiously at her husband but before she could utter a word he was urging her into the crowd.

  ‘Wait a minute. She stopped. ‘What was all that about? Why didn’t you tell that man Nicholas isn’t your son, but Delia’s?’

  ‘Why bother?’ He shrugged one shoulder. ‘He is our son now, or had you forgotten at the sight of a handsome face?’ he prompted silkily.

  ‘No…’ Helen shook her head. ‘And don’t pretend you’re jealous,’ she mocked, while secretly hugging the thought to her. ‘But I am surprised. I mean, he is your cousin—surely he knows.’

  ‘Actually, strictly speaking he is my late wife’s cousin, and I am sure he does know. He is the sort who makes it his business to know everything. But Nicholas is no concern of his.’

  ‘If you say so,’ Helen murmured, but she could not help recalling quite a few odd glances from different people over the past few weeks that she had put down to natural curiosity, now she wasn’t so sure.

  ‘I’ve noticed some peculiar looks from a few people, even Mary on our wedding day.’ She raised puzzled eyes to his. ‘I suppose it is the family likeness between Nicholas and yourself. But shouldn’t you deny the assumption? I mean, we don’t want to mislead people.’

  ‘Helen, darling,’ he drawled with a sardonic lift of one ebony brow, ‘it is public knowledge that both you and I have stated Nicholas is my sister’s child. But people believe what they want to believe.’ His firm lips twisted in a wry smile. ‘As far as I am concerned I couldn’t care less what other people think. The boy knows the truth, that is all that matters.’

  ‘Yes, but—’

  ‘So they assume you’re his mother—what difference does it make?’ And his arm tightened around her. ‘In life as in business it is sometimes beneficial to muddy the waters a little. And if it is your reputation you are worried about, forget it. As my wife you are beyond reproach, and if the confusion helps Delia’s reputation in other people’s eyes—why not? Nicholas might thank us for it in years to come.’

  Helen frowned. He sounded so reasonable, but he was protecting the memory of his sister at the expense of hers. Well, not exactly, she conceded. He hadn’t actually lied. Leon just manipulated the situation, allowing people to think what they wanted to think. Much the same as he had with her when he had suggested a marriage of convenience. He had to have known what she’d thought, and she wondered how many more false assumptions he had allowed her to make.

  Not much later she found out.

  Helen glanced around the glittering throng not feeling quite so confident. Waiters circled the crowd with drinks and canapés, a quintet played dance music and everyone looked to be enjoying themselves.

  ‘Love the necklace.’ The familiar voice of Mary drew Helen’s attention to the couple who had stopped in front of them. She saw her friend flick a glance at Leon.

  ‘It is perfect, Leon,’ Mary declared and grinned at Helen. ‘I gave him such detailed instructions even he could not fail. You really have me to thank for his choice,’ she declared outrageously. Everyone laughed, Helen included, relieved at Mary’s timely interruption.

  Leon was right. She was worrying about nothing, what did it matter what a few people thought? Helen shot him a teasing glance. ‘Surely you are not going to let Mary get away with insulting you.’

  ‘Her husband is my lawyer. Trust me, if I say a word to Mary he will sue me,’ Leon replied drolly, and more laughter ensued.

  Chris stopped a passing waiter and champagne was served all around. He then insisted, as this was an official wedding party, albeit the second one, he had to make a toast.

  ‘To two good friends, Helen and Leon, may you have a long and happy marriage.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Leon replied sincerely and, looking into the vividly sparkling eyes of his wife, he suddenly realised he didn’t care that she had kept his nephew hidden for years, didn’t care if she had known about the money she was t
o inherit. She was worth every penny and more. He thanked God and Delia that he had found her, and had had the good sense to marry her.

  She gave him a brilliant smile, and his chest tightened as his hand automatically flexed on her waist with the sudden stirring in his groin. How she did this to him he couldn’t explain and he didn’t care, he simply relished the feeling.

  A strong sense of elation gripped him. The nearest he had ever come to feeling like this was when he clinched a particularly good deal. But even the best deal of his life did not compare with the heady pleasure he felt right now with Helen openly gazing up at him with adoration in her gorgeous eyes for all to see.

  He was not a demonstrative man, never had been. His mother had knocked that tendency out of him as a child with her violent mood swings, one day loving him and the next day cursing him, so he had learnt very early in life not to trust emotions of any kind. But now with all his friends and acquaintances around him he declared, ‘And the biggest thank you must go to my beautiful wife for being brave enough to take on a cynic like me for her husband.’ And dipping his head, he kissed her. He felt her sway against him, tasted the melting sweetness of her mouth, and very reluctantly broke the kiss, while quickly calculating how much longer they would have to stay for propriety’s sake.

  CHAPTER TEN

  AMINUTE LATER Leon cursed silently under his breath. Dropping his hand from Helen’s waist, he squared his broad shoulders, and went still. There was tension in every line of his body, his grin fading to a grimace as his dark eyes rested on two late arrivals. The French Ambassador to Greece, who had been invited with his wife, but instead had turned up with a different companion, a very tall, striking-looking woman…Louisa…

  What the hell was she doing here? He had broken up with her the week before he’d married. And she had done very well out of the deal. He had given her a luxury apartment in Paris and a considerable amount of money in consolation for his ending their affair.

  ‘M. Distel, a pleasure to see you again.’ Leon shook the man’s hand. ‘Louisa.’ He nodded at his ex-lover but he could do nothing to prevent the usual French greeting of a kiss on both cheeks by the woman, one of which darted to his mouth. Then reluctantly but smoothly he introduced the pair to Helen.

  Helen had immediately stiffened sensing danger the minute Leon’s hand had fallen from her waist. She had felt his tension, and, following the direction of his eyes had watched the very tall, glamorous-looking woman walking towards them. Her hair a mixture of brown and red stripes, was perfectly cut in a short asymmetrical chop, and the black dress she wore was obviously the latest in designer chic and very short too, exposing her incredibly long legs.

  But it was her face Helen noticed most. Her dark eyes, kohl-rimmed and narrow, were fixed on Leon like heat seeking missiles, her lush lips, obviously collagen-enhanced, Helen thought distastefully, curved in an intimate smile just for him. And when Leon said her name the red-nailed hand she laid on his arm screamed possession. The kisses she planted on him confirmed how close they were.

  Feminine intuition, every instinct, told Helen that this woman had known Leon in the most intimate way possible, and the happy little bubble she had been floating in for the last few weeks burst, pierced by the dual monsters of suspicion and jealousy. It was easy to forget locked in her husband’s arms that he had quite a few lovers in his past, but to be faced with one of them made it impossible to ignore. She accepted the congratulations of the French ambassador in a cool calm voice, but when Louisa took her hand and smiled with dark, spite-filled eyes her composure almost deserted her.

  ‘So you’re the lucky lady, not at all what I expected.’ The woman stared down at Helen, making her feel like a midget, and it only got worse as she added. ‘You are really quite small.’

  ‘Ah, small but perfect.’ The Frenchman intervened with true Gallic charm. ‘And you also have a son, I believe, a great gift for any man.’

  Helen heard Mary gasp at her side, but by a terrific effort of will she retained her self-control, while inside she was fuming.

  ‘Not my son—’ she glanced up at Leon her eyes diamond bright ‘—is he, darling?’

  Leon let his eyes rest for a moment on Helen. She was angry and hurt and he didn’t blame her. He had dismissed her worry over the parenthood of the boy quite casually after Takis’ comment, and now Distel was implying the same. She was so lovely and so naive in a worldly sense he should have realised she was sensitive about the boy’s parenthood, whereas he didn’t give a damn one way or the other. But if he wasn’t very careful the sophisticated French pair would make mincemeat of her in a second if he let them. Louisa had already insulted his wife with her crack about her height; he knew Helen was touchy on the subject. Why, he had no idea, she was perfect in his eyes.

  But for once in his life he felt fiercely protective and embarrassed at the same time, not emotions he was familiar with. He knew most of the people here recognised Louisa as his ex-mistress, and he felt guilty that his past affair had put Helen in this position and was determined to remedy the situation, before she had a chance to find out.

  With that in mind he said, ‘No, of course not, Helen. Everyone knows he is my sister Delia’s child. But the ambassador’s English is not so good.’ He smiled gently down at her. ‘Excuse me for a moment while I explain to him in French, hmm…’ She nodded her head and he returned his attention to Distel and Louisa.

  The patronising swine, Helen thought, and shook her head, too enraged to speak. Instead she took another glass of champagne from a passing waiter, and listened. Her face paled and the blood turned to ice in her veins, her suspicions confirmed. She needed to sit down or she would fall down, such was the extent of her shock. Swiftly she drained the glass and when Mary moved to visit the powder room Helen jumped at the chance to go with her. She had heard enough, more than enough.

  ‘That woman is Leon’s lover,’ Helen said flatly as they entered the powder room.

  ‘No, you’re wrong,’ Mary quickly denied—a little too quickly.

  Helen looked at her friend with cold, dull eyes. ‘Please don’t bother to lie on my account, it is not necessary.’

  ‘I’m not exactly lying.’ Mary sighed. ‘But I’m not surprised you guessed they had had an affair. Louisa made it pretty obvious she couldn’t take her eyes off him. But really, Helen, you have nothing to worry about. Leon married you. He loves you and I know the affair is over. Chris told me so.’

  ‘And you believed him.’ Helen shook her head and sank down on the nearest chair, not sure her legs would support her. She was numb with shock. She knew Leon did not love her, but to be so callous as to allow his mistress to kiss him in front of her was beyond belief. But then what did she know about men, or the society Leon moved in, other than it was far too sophisticated and blasé for her? she thought bitterly, and glanced up at her hovering friend.

  ‘I hate to tell you, Mary, but your husband lied, and before you say anything else I should tell you I speak excellent French and I understood every word they said.’

  Mary collapsed in the chair beside her. ‘You speak French. Oh, no. But wait a second, he only spoke for a moment, then the ambassador and Louisa chipped in,’ Mary exclaimed. ‘They’d only been speaking for a few minutes before we left. So what on earth was said that upset you so quickly?’

  Helen folded her arms across her chest, her hands rubbing her upper arms. She was shivering and the cold went bone deep.

  ‘Enough, more than enough. Leon explained Nicholas was his sister’s child and then asked Distel if his wife was indisposed.’ Helen relayed the gist of the conversation in a harsh, colourless voice. ‘The Frenchman said yes, and rather sarcastically added he didn’t think Leon would mind him bringing Louisa because he knew they were such old close friends.’ She glanced back at Mary. ‘The French language lends itself beautifully to sarcasm—did you know that?’

  ‘I’m not interested in the language. Tell me what happened next.’

  ‘Louisa int
ervened, and said to Leon, and I quote, “Really,mon cher, you have nothing to worry about. I would not dream of upsetting your little wife by telling her about us. I know you only married her for the child. I remember in every intimate detail the last night we spent together the week before your wedding. And ten days ago when you gave me the deeds to the apartment, such an extravagant gift…”’

  Helen paused for a moment and blinked to hold back the tears that threatened, then carried on stoically. ‘“I knew it was to ease your conscience, after almost four years I understand you perfectly,cher, and when you come back as usual I can promise you will enjoy seeing and removing what your generosity bought.” At which point she laughed and you gave me an excuse to leave to come to the powder room, for which I am eternally grateful,’ Helen concluded.

 

‹ Prev