Her Wedding Night Negotiation

by Chantelle Shaw

  He raked his hand through his hair.

  ‘I went outside and walked around the ranch while I tried to bring my temper under control. When I returned to the house I discovered that Karin had driven away with Nicky. I couldn’t bear to lose him again. I jumped into my car, praying I would be able to catch up with her so we could have a reasonable discussion about Nicky’s future.’

  A haunted look crossed his face.

  ‘I drove round a sharp bend and saw Karin’s car on its roof at the side of the road. She must have taken the corner too fast. There was a strong smell of fuel...’ He swallowed. ‘All I could think of was getting Nicky out of the car before it caught fire. I didn’t make it back in time for Karin.’

  ‘Marco!’ Leah jumped up and went over to him, her soft heart aching at the agony in his eyes. ‘You were not to blame.’

  ‘I know—but I didn’t know it then. It was only later that an inquest confirmed that Karin had died on impact. I hated Karin for depriving me of my son, but she was Nicky’s mother and I still wish I’d been able to save her.’

  Leah touched the scar on his cheek. ‘You risked your life to save Nicky from that burning car.’

  He captured her hand and linked his fingers through hers. ‘I keep those pictures of Karin to show Nicky. I tell him that his mother was wonderful and she loved him. He must never know that she was willing to give him up for money.’

  His eyes narrowed and Leah attempted to ease her hand out of his.

  ‘I had no intention of marrying a second time. Yes, I wanted to take you to bed, but I had no need of a wife—especially one who seemed as money-orientated as my ex.’

  ‘No wonder you were so furious when I proposed a marriage deal,’ Leah mumbled.

  ‘But I quickly realised that you are kind and caring, and you established a connection with my son that I had been unable to do.’

  ‘You were right when you guessed that I love Nicky,’ she said in a choked voice. ‘But even for him I can’t accept a loveless marriage.’

  ‘I didn’t want to fall in love with you.’

  Marco slid his hand beneath her chin and gently forced her to look at him. The expression blazing in his eyes robbed her of her breath.

  ‘I don’t have much experience of love,’ he said huskily.

  Leah’s heart shattered into a thousand pieces.

  ‘Even when I suggested making our marriage permanent I was arrogant enough to believe that you were no threat to my barren heart. But then you left.’

  ‘I had to,’ she whispered. ‘You offered me everything except the one thing I truly wanted. Living with you, knowing that you would never love me, seemed worse than leaving and hoping that I’d get over you.’ Her mouth crumpled.

  ‘Ah, Leah, my love,’ Marco said quietly. ‘When I read your note I realised what a fool I had been. I’d kidded myself that I was in control of my feelings, but you had gone, and the truth hit me. I wanted you to be my wife for ever because I will love you for eternity.’

  He brushed away her tears with fingers that shook, and Leah’s heart turned over when she saw that his eyelashes were damp.

  ‘You have my heart and my soul, tesoro mia. All I ask in return is that you promise to love me and stay with me for the rest of time.’

  ‘I will,’ she said simply.

  ‘Why are you crying, amore? I intend to spend every day of my life making you happy.’

  ‘I am happy. But I’m scared this won’t last.’

  Marco nodded, and there was a wealth of understanding in his tender expression. ‘It will. We have it all, my angel. Passion, friendship, trust and love. Always love.’

  He drew her down onto the rug and they undressed each other with trembling hands. When he took possession of her mouth there was such beauty and promise in his kiss that the last of Leah’s doubts disappeared. And when he made love to her it felt new and wondrous, because there was honesty in every caress and love beyond measure.

  ‘Tu sei la mia amata rosa,’ Marco whispered as he held her against his heart. ‘You are my beloved rose. Ti amo.’

  EPILOGUE

  ‘IT WAS A lovely christening,’ Leah said as she climbed out of the helicopter and Marco slid his arm around her waist, walking with her across the garden at Villa Rosa. ‘James and Davina looked so proud of baby Sophie—and your mother is obviously smitten with her new granddaughter.’

  Marco nodded. ‘And Nicky seemed to enjoy spending time with his English relatives. It was James’s idea to have the baby christened in Nancarrow Hall’s chapel.’ He looked down at Leah and his tender smile stole her breath. ‘I’m glad we went to Cornwall to meet the newest addition to the family, but it’s good to be home.’

  Home. It had a wonderful sound, Leah thought as they strolled into the villa. It was early summer and the roses around the front door were starting to open, filling the warm air with their exquisite perfume.

  ‘Papà, you promised we could go swimming!’ Nicky ran up to his father, his big brown eyes shining. ‘And Mamma too.’ The little boy grinned at Leah. ‘Will my baby brother like swimming when he’s born?’

  ‘I’m sure he will,’ she said softly. ‘When he’s big enough you will be able to teach him.’

  ‘Cool. He can have my armbands, because I don’t need them any more.’ Nicky tore up the stairs and paused to hang over the bannister. ‘I’m going to get my swim-shorts. Hurry up, Mamma and Papà.’

  ‘I don’t know where our eldest son gets his energy from,’ Marco murmured.

  ‘Our younger son is pretty energetic too.’ Leah captured her husband’s hand and held it against the swell of her stomach. ‘Can you feel him moving?’

  Marco’s features softened as he spread his fingers over her bump and the baby kicked. They both smiled at this sign of the new life they had created.

  ‘Tesoro...’ he said huskily, before claiming her mouth in a lingering kiss. ‘In a couple of months we will be a family of four.’

  ‘I can’t wait for Matteo to arrive.’

  ‘Have I told you how happy you make me?’

  ‘Many times.’ She linked her arms around Marco’s neck as he scooped her up and held her against his chest, as though she and the child that she carried were infinitely precious. ‘You make me the happiest woman in the world. I love you.’

  His grey eyes gleamed. ‘And I love you.’

  * * *

  Unable to put Her Wedding Night Negotiation down? Find your next page-turner with these other stories by Chantelle Shaw!

  The Virgin’s Sicilian Protector

  Reunited by a Shock Pregnancy

  Wed for the Spaniard’s Redemption

  Proof of Their Forbidden Night

  Available now

  Keep reading for an excerpt from Revelations of His Runaway Bride by Kali Anthony.

  WE HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS BOOK FROM

  Escape to exotic locations where passion knows no bounds.

  Welcome to the glamorous lives of royals and billionaires, where passion knows no bounds. Be swept into a world of luxury, wealth and exotic locations.

  8 NEW BOOKS AVAILABLE EVERY MONTH!

  Revelations of His Runaway Bride

  by Kali Anthony

  CHAPTER ONE

  THEA STRUGGLED IN the near darkness to tear free of the wedding dress she’d been forced to wear. The cursed laces of its bodice trussed her as tight as a chicken ready for roasting. She fumbled with the tangled bow at the small of her back, then stopped to steady her trembling fingers. Her breaths blew sharp and fast, and the cloying scent of citrus blossom from her bridal bouquet threatened to overwhelm her. No time for clumsiness. Tonight was about speed and execution. Because this plan—her only plan—allowed no room for failure.

  ‘It’s never going to work.’

  Thea faced the quavering voice. Sheathed in s
oft cream silk, her best friend huddled in a shadowy corner. The brim of an oversized hat swooped across her face.

  ‘We’ve been over this, Elena. It will.’

  It has to.

  There were no second chances. Outside, the hungry crowd and her husband waited. The man now entitled to all of her. Thea shuddered. He wouldn’t get her mind, her body or her soul. This was her moment to escape. Tonight she’d break free and show them all.

  ‘How do I look?’

  Elena moved into what dim light shone through a lavishly curtained window from the dreary alleyway beyond. She smoothed her hands over the front of the dress, which swirled barely above her knees. Demure. Perfect. The dress Thea should be changing into now.

  ‘Like more of a bride than I feel. Nobody will realise.’

  Till it was too late. Till she was gone.

  Everyone said she and Elena could pass as sisters, or as each other. And they regularly did—with laughable ease. Allowing Thea a shred of freedom otherwise denied her.

  Now all the years of planning her escape were over.

  She walked to her friend and held her in a tight hug. Elena’s body quaked in the embrace.

  ‘Thank you. For this. For everything,’ Thea said.

  Elena returned the hug, then pushed away, wiping at her eyes. ‘Let’s get you out of that wedding dress and away from here.’

  Thea turned and flinched as Elena’s frantic hands fought the laces which bound her.

  ‘Can we put on some lights?’ Elena whispered. ‘I can’t see to do this quickly.’

  ‘What if someone walks in? Like this, it’s hard to tell who’s who. Now, remember what I said?’

  Elena laughed. There was nothing cheerful about the sound. ‘Skirt the edges of the room. Keep the hat brim down. If anyone tries to talk to me pretend to cry and hide my face in a handkerchief like I’m overwrought by the sheer joy of this blessed marriage. Easy.’

  One final pull and the bodice fell free. But Thea wasn’t quite free yet. Her friend started on the laces of the corset.

  ‘No time!’ She wriggled away to search for the rest of her clothes. ‘And it will work. We’ve told everyone about the hat and dress I’m wearing to leave here. People will be looking out for that, not for me.’

  No one saw her. Sure, they saw her clothes, her jewels. Evidence of her father’s money when he decided to show her off like some prize pony. That’s why she and Elena were interchangeable. People were told about a sensational dress and hat and that was all they’d see—not the person wearing it.

  Because to her father’s friends she was nobody. A shadow who could slip away. And when somebody finally did notice, it would be too late.

  ‘But Christo...’

  Thea’s heart dropped a beat at the sound of his name. She licked the perspiration beading on her top lip.

  Christo Callas.

  My husband.

  No need for pretence now. Yet she’d slipped in those last moments. When Christo had lifted her veil. She’d looked into his unfathomable olive-tinged eyes and hadn’t been able to quell the serpent inside. The knowledge that she’d been forced into this marriage to save her half-brother Alexis. Potent emotion had coiled and then reared, begging her to strike out at the man who’d effectively bought her. And in that moment he’d hesitated. As if he knew.

  So she’d painted a sweet, soft smile on her face. Waited for the kiss which would transform her from Thea Lambros to Thea Callas. And, for all the horror of it, Christo’s lips had been warm and soft with something that had felt like understanding...

  No! She scrubbed at her mouth, smearing the shell-pink lipstick. Wiping away the strange tingling the memory had wrought.

  ‘Thea?’

  ‘Christo won’t notice either.’

  He didn’t understand her—hadn’t even tried.

  Thea thrust Elena the bridal bouquet which had lain wilting on a side table.

  ‘He’s not interested in me—only in what this marriage can do for him. One woman’s the same as another to men like that.’

  To Christo she was simply a commodity. Like she was to her father, who’d made it clear she must agree to the marriage as part of a business deal. If she didn’t, Alexis would go to jail.

  But now, with Alexis’s freedom bought, she could run. Extract herself from whatever questionable scheme her father had concocted. Her plan all along.

  ‘I hope you’re right,’ Elena said.

  There was no time for doubts now. Thea stepped out of her dress and flung it into a dark corner, where it flopped like a discarded marshmallow. The suffocating corset could wait till she was safely hidden. She’d cut the damn thing off if she had to.

  ‘I fit the job description,’ she said, pulling on a practical black knit top. ‘A compliant bed-warmer.’

  Her blood ran hot with a furious roar. She knew her own worth—and it was not playing that role. Not for any man.

  Thea shrugged into a heavy leather jacket, then zipped and buckled the front. Earlier she’d hidden her jeans and boots under the ridiculous confection of a dress now deflating in the corner.

  It was almost time to go.

  Thea walked to Elena and took her hands. The chill of them shivered through her. ‘Are you sure you’ll be okay?’ She squeezed Elena’s fingers in reassurance. ‘I’m not asking too much?’

  Elena squeezed back. ‘You’re like my sister. What wouldn’t I do for you? And I can look after myself. Time to live your life. You’ve been caged long enough.’

  In the Lambros family cage.

  For most of her twenty-three years she’d only known one sibling. Demetri. A cruel thug disguised in civilised clothes. He’d always been her father’s enforcer, and Thea his first victim. Her father hadn’t cared. Not about the little girl who looked too much like her mother. The wife who’d had the temerity to leave him.

  No. Thea never wished to set eyes on Demetri or her father again. But Alexis...

  She pulled her phone from the pocket of her jeans. From the moment he’d inveigled himself into their home as her bodyguard two years earlier things had become almost bearable. His presence had kept her going. But since this morning he hadn’t responded to her texts.

  Elena frowned as Thea checked her phone. ‘Still no word?’

  ‘Nothing... But it’ll be okay.’

  Thea chewed her bottom lip till she tasted the tang of blood. Surely he’d left Athens? She rubbed at the ache in her chest. The pain of having to leave him so soon ran soul-deep. Only the knowledge that her marriage had freed him kept her going.

  She took a shuddering breath. ‘And when you’re discovered?’

  Because Elena would be—it was only a matter of time. But everyone had to believe what they were told so they’d search in the wrong place.

  ‘Where have I gone?’

  ‘You’ve taken a hire car.’ Elena’s bottom lip quivered. Her eyes brimmed with the glitter of tears as she played her role with breathless innocence and trembling perfection. ‘You’re driving towards Karpathos. To visit your mother’s grave.’

  Thea had wanted to go before the wedding. Her father had refused to allow it. Try as he might, he’d never excised her mother’s memory from her life, so her visiting there would make sense to him. It was a subtle mix of truth and fiction blended into a believable enough concoction.

  Still. It didn’t feel right.

  ‘I hate using Mama’s memory this way.’

  Elena shook her head. ‘Maria would have approved. Anything to get you away from men like those. But forget that. Was I good enough?’

  ‘You should become an actress,’ Thea said. ‘After that flawless performance Christo’s minions will definitely head south looking for me.’

  ‘And you’ll be starting your new life.’ Elena smiled—her first display of happiness on this bleak day. ‘C
an’t you tell me where you’re going?’

  ‘No. It’s safer this way.’ It would protect Elena as much as herself in the little time they had.

  Thea grabbed her motorcycle helmet from the chair behind her, hesitating.

  ‘How in Hades am I going to get this over my stupid hair?’

  All that teasing and plaiting... The style had taken aeons to create, with the hairdresser cooing over what would be a wasted effort.

  Elena pulled at a few of the sculpted curls. ‘It’ll take an hour to get rid of these pins!’

  ‘No time for that. I’ll squash the helmet over the top somehow. How much time have we spent already?’

  Elena checked her watch. ‘We haven’t been long. Anyhow, they’re too busy drinking your father’s ouzo to care. Everyone’s going to think you’re spending ages to look beautiful for Christo. And once you leave they’ll have to go—which none of them want.’

  It was the sad truth. Thea had no idea who most of the people at the wedding were. Business associates, she suspected. More deals and alliances being sealed over the carcass of her blighted union. Vultures, the lot of them. They were interested in the food, the alcohol, the spectacle.

  ‘I’ll never forget what you did for me. When it’s safe, I’ll try to let you know where...’

  Thea swallowed the lump tightening her throat. There were few people she loved. Elena. Alexis. The thought of leaving them crushed her.

  Elena waved her away. ‘I’m holding you to that. One day when we’re both grandmothers we’ll drink coffee together and laugh about today,’ she said, searching through a bag, then thrusting Thea an envelope. ‘Don’t forget this. Passport. Money. Bank details. It’s all there. Now, go! Be happy.’

  Thea hesitated. She slipped her hand into her jacket pocket and rubbed the worn St Christopher medal on its fine chain, safely nestled there. Then she grabbed her padded gloves and secreted rucksack, moving to slip out of the door at the back of the room, which led to the alley where her motorcycle was hidden.