The Best Man's Guarded Heart. Katrina Cudmore

Sofia used to come to keep me company. Even though she could have been off doing something much more entertaining than listening to a school orchestra murdering some piece of music.’

      He considered what she’d said. Maybe Christos was marrying a good woman.

      As though to emphasise that point, Grace studied him coolly. ‘Christos is a very lucky man. He’s marrying an incredible woman—smart and loving.’

      ‘It sounds like he is.’

      A small note of triumph registered in her eyes. ‘So, can we agree that we will do everything to make this wedding as special a day as possible for them?’

      He wanted to say yes, but the word just wouldn’t come. He still feared that Christos might regret his haste in years to come. As he did. So instead he said, ‘You’re one of life’s hopeless romantics, aren’t you?’

      Those astounding violet eyes narrowed and she leaned away from him as she considered his words. ‘Romantic, yes—hopeless, no. I’m not ashamed to admit that I believe in love...in marriage. I see it all the time in my work, and with Sofia and Christos. It’s the most wonderful thing that exists.’

      ‘Have you ever been in love?’

      Her shoulders jerked at his question. ‘No.’

      ‘But you want to be?’

      An unconscious smile broke on her lips, and her eyes shone with dreams. ‘Yes. And I’m greedy...I want it all. I want love at first sight, the whirlwind, the marriage, the children, the growing old together. The perfect man.’

      He’d once thought life was that simple. In exasperation, he demanded, ‘The perfect man...? What on earth is that?’

      ‘A man who will sweep me off my feet, who will make life fun and exciting. A man who believes in love too. In kindness and tenderness.’

      For a moment she eyed what must be his appalled expression, given the angry frown that had popped up on her brow. And then, as though his reaction had unlocked something inside of her, she let go with all barrels firing.

      ‘A man who’s intelligent, honourable, loyal...and great in bed.’

      He tried not to laugh at how disconcerted she seemed by her own last statement. Clearing his throat, he said, ‘Wow, that’s some guy. But I hate to break it to you...that’s not reality. Love is complex and messy and full of disappointment. Not like the fairy tale and the X-rated Prince Charming you’ve just described. Do you really believe someone like that exists?’

      Solemn eyes met his. ‘I hope so.’ Then a hint of fear, maybe doubt, clouded her eyes. For a few moments they sat in silence, until she asked, ‘How about you?’

      For a while he just stared at her—at the high, slanting cheekbones, the freckle-sized birthmark just below her right ear, surprised by her naivety...by her optimism. In truth, a part of him was wildly envious of that.

      ‘As I said last night, I have no interest in love—in relationships full-stop.’

      ‘Why?’

      Even if he’d wanted to, even if he’d trusted Grace he wouldn’t be able to find adequate words to describe the mess his marriage had descended into.

      ‘I’d rather not talk about it.’

      Disappointment filled her eyes. But then she gave him a sympathetic smile and he instantly realised that she already knew about his marriage. Christos must have said something. Just how much did she know? Anger flared inside him. He did not want her sympathy. He did not need the humiliation of her pity.

      She shifted on the wall and gazed at him uncertainly. ‘Sofia mentioned that you were once married...’

      He didn’t respond, but raised a questioning eyebrow instead, waiting for her to continue.

      She gestured towards the chapel. ‘Having the ceremony in the same chapel...’ She trailed off.

      His heart sank. He really didn’t want to talk about this. ‘I didn’t marry here.’

      ‘Oh.’ Clearly flustered by his answer, she muttered, ‘Sorry, I assumed you had. After what you said last night about Christos and you always wanting to marry here.’

      With an impatient sigh, he answered, ‘My ex wanted to get married in Athens.’

      She digested this for some time before she asked, ‘Did you mind not marrying here?’

      At the time he had minded. But his ex had been determined from day one that theirs would be the society wedding of the year in Athens, and had used his uncle’s recent death to persuade him not to marry on the island. She had insisted that he would find it too upsetting to be surrounded by reminders of him on their wedding day.

      It had all been lies. In the bitter arguments after he had confronted her with the photos of her with her lover she had admitted as much. His one consolation from the entire debacle was that at least the island wasn’t tainted with memories of the worst decision of his life. His biggest failure.

      He waited for a few minutes before he spoke, afraid of the anger that might spill out otherwise. ‘It doesn’t matter; it’s in the past.’