He had the uncanny ability to make her very aware of him and, worse, aware of herself in the most peculiar way. Her body seemed to have taken on a life of its own at odds to the dictates of her brain, and she didn’t like the feeling. Last night, after charming Nicholas into agreement, he had ordered an end to her early suppers with the boy and insisted she dine with him later after Nicholas was in bed. Bitterly resenting his overbearing attitude, but powerless to argue with him in front of Nicholas, she had reluctantly agreed.
Dining alone with him had been an ordeal. Leon had been perfectly polite, the conversation mostly confined to the wedding arrangements for the following day with a few social niceties thrown in. But somehow every time his dark eyes rested on her she had to battle down the embarrassing heat that threatened to colour every inch of her pale skin.
It was galling to have to admit that Leon could make her feel physically conscious of him without any effort on his part. Her only comfort was the knowledge that he wasn’t in the least attracted to her. He had as good as told her so the one time he had kissed her. All she had to do was control the odd feeling of panic that he aroused in her and concentrate on Nicholas, and everything would be fine.
She glanced at her reflection again, a wry smile curving her lips. She certainly had no fear of inciting the interest of any male over the age of seven in this gown. Fashioned in silk, the sleeves were long and wide at her wrists. The bodice embroidered with silver thread skimmed her breasts and narrow waist ending in a point over her flat stomach. The skirt of the gown fell in fine panels of cobweb silk of varying pointed lengths around her ankles. Not something Helen would ever have chosen. Plus the jewel encrusted satin slippers with upturned pointed toes she wore on her feet instead of the high heels she usually favoured did nothing for her lack of height, but at least Nicholas would be happy. She was totally unaware of how the gossamer fine fabric sensuously caressed her slender body with every move she made.
The door opened and the housekeeper, Anna, a tall, grey-haired woman of about sixty, walked in, closely followed by Nicholas.
‘Oh, Helen, you look beautiful.’ He gazed up at her, his dark eyes shining like jewels. ‘Exactly like my fairy picture.’
‘Thank you, darling.’ She bent down to give him a hug.
‘Uncle Leon sent me to get you ‘cause it is after two,’ he said, puffed up with importance. ‘Everyone is waiting.’
Anna looked at her. ‘He is right, madam, and there has been a slight change of plan. The ceremony is to take place inside instead of in the garden,’ she said with a telling glance at the rain lashing the window.
Helen smiled. So much for Leon’s assertion that the sun always shone in Greece. ‘That’s fine,’ she reassured Anna, glad that at least she spoke excellent English. The other members of staff she had met last night did not.
‘Lead on, Nicholas.’ She grinned down at him and taking his hand in hers, she headed for the door.
Standing in the hall, Leon greeted the last guests, and glanced around the group of about thirty people. He had invited only those friends and business colleagues that he deemed absolutely necessary. To the distant relatives and acquaintances he had excluded, he had used the valid excuse of the recent deaths in the family as the reason for keeping the ceremony small and low key. At some later date he knew he would have to host a party to introduce Helen and Nicholas, but right now business came first. His priority was to make sure his marriage to Helen Heywood was completed without a hitch and she was legally tied to him as his wife. For that he did not need a great show. He had already had the huge society wedding with Tina; he didn’t need another one.
He moved to speak to his PA, Alex Stakis, who was also acting as his witness, and was suddenly aware of the strange silence that had fallen over the assembled guests. His PA was staring straight past him, an expression of avid male appreciation lighting his face. Leon turned and followed the line of Alex’s gaze and stiffened.
Descending the marble staircase was a vision of loveliness, a girl that looked as if she had just stepped out of any red-blooded man’s dream. Helen Heywood, his soon-to-be wife, and the knowledge sent a surge of pleasure through his powerful frame that had nothing to do with business and everything to do with the tightening in his groin in anticipation of the night ahead.
Her ash-blonde hair was loose and fell in ringlets around her slender shoulders. Her gown was a fantasy in white and silver, long-sleeved with a deep vee neckline that revealed the creamy curves of her breasts, and faithfully followed every exquisite line of her body. The skirt skimmed her hips and floated in a stream of flimsy panels around her legs and thighs revealing tantalising glimpses of pale flesh as she descended the marble staircase. Her small feet were encased in harem styled slippers and to top it all off on her head was a silver garland of tiny rosebuds. She was laughing down at the little boy holding her hand and he was grinning back.
For a long moment Leon simply stared, and he had a fleeting sense he had seen Helen like this before. But he couldn’t have, she looked ravishing, and he certainly had not seen her wearing make-up; even though she wasn’t wearing much, the effect was stunning.
Her sparkling violet eyes were accentuated by a misty shadow and a touch of mascara exaggerated her incredibly long lashes. Her full lips were coated in a deep rose gloss and her pearly white skin was tinted by the faintest of natural blushes. She looked bewitching, the perfect bride. Innocent, and yet sensual, and the way the flimsy material clung to her petite body was as sexy as hell.
But she also looked as out of place in the small, sophisticated civil ceremony he had arranged as snow in summer, he realised grimly and frowned.
He had told her it was to be a simple ceremony, and it had never occurred to him she would dress as a bride. But this was her wedding, the only one she was ever going to have if he had his way, and he always did.
Inexplicably Leon felt guilty. His mouth tightened as he walked forward, his eyes focused on her lovely face. ‘Helen you look beautiful,’ he stated, and bared his teeth in a smile.
‘Thank you.’ She glanced at him and didn’t bother to return the smile. Instead she immediately gave her attention to the little boy holding her hand. ‘Nicholas chose my dress, didn’t you, darling?’
A wry smile quirked his mouth. If that was true the boy had a heck of a precocious view of the female form for one so young. Then abruptly he stiffened as he saw more of her breasts than was safe in his semi-aroused state. And the luminous look of unconditional love in her eyes as she bent towards the boy as he cheerfully agreed didn’t help his condition.
No woman, not even his own mother, had ever looked at him like that. Not that he would want them to, he thought cynically. He had all he wanted, or he would have tonight, he amended, and reached for her hand, enfolding it firmly in his own. ‘The celebrant is waiting.’
Helen listened to the bearded little man reel off the service in Greek with a little English thrown in for her benefit and responded appropriately, not looking at Leon unless she had to. When he had taken her hand at the foot of the stairs she had felt a sudden quickening in her pulse and almost panicked. But one glance at his set face, his broad shoulders and solid, muscled body immaculately clad in a sombre dark suit had been enough to calm her nerves.
Leon Aristides looked about as happy as the condemned man heading for the electric chair, his attempt at a smile a mockery. However, this was a marriage of convenience, they had both agreed, so she had nothing to worry about.
Finally when the gold band was firmly on her finger, and surprisingly a gold band on Leon’s as well she heaved an inward sigh of relief. Then the little man instructed Leon to kiss his bride.
Leon took her chin in his hand and tilted her face up to his. Their eyes met and for an instant she saw a flare in the ebony depths of his that made the hairs on the nape of her neck stand on end. It took all her self-control not to flinch when his dark head lowered and he brushed her lips briefly with his own.
‘Now