The Greek's Chosen Wife. Lynne Graham

to children tensed Prudence’s small, taut frame. ‘I know that I’m not the wife you’d have picked for yourself. I suppose we’ll just learn to manage as we go along.’

      ‘That’s a recipe for chaos.’

      ‘But you wouldn’t like rules.’

      His keen amber scrutiny flared in surprise at that level of perception and arrowed back to her. No, not thick as a brick, he registered, a frown of disconcertion momentarily pleating his winged ebony brows.

      He reached for her hand. ‘I have a ring…it belonged to my grandmother. Of course, if you don’t like it, you can—’

      ‘No…no, it’s lovely; really, really lovely.’ Rosy colour warmed her cheeks and rare pleasure enfolded her. The ruby and diamond ring slid onto her finger as though it belonged there. His gift of a family heirloom surprised and moved her. ‘I wasn’t expecting this…’

      ‘It would be fair to say that life is currently full of the unexpected.’ When Nikolos had flatly refused to buy an engagement ring, his father had persuaded him to bring the ruby. Symeon had, however, forecast that Prudence would be offended by the presentation of an unfashionable, if valuable, piece of jewellery that had belonged to someone else first.

      ‘Thank you…’ Prudence’s voice was husky with emotion. She studied the ring from all angles, admiring the deep scarlet glow of the ruby and the glitter of the diamonds. That it fitted as though it had been made for her struck her as a good omen.

      Discomfited by the level of her enthusiasm, Nikolos shrugged in a very masculine way and stayed silent. It was dawning on him that, apart from a shabby plastic watch, he had never seen her wear a single piece of jewellery and that it was perfectly possibly she did not own any. Suddenly he wished he had bought a proper ring for her. ‘Pudding…’ he breathed with uncharacteristic awkwardness. ‘Do you mind if I call you that?’

      ‘No, of course not…I’ve always hated the name I was born with.’ The nickname that had embarrassed her suddenly acquired acceptability on his lips and seemed more in the nature of an endearing pet name. ‘I’ll be the best wife I can be…’

      Nikolos almost groaned out loud. He knew she was dying to hear him say the same thing back on his own behalf but he would not lie to her. He was a long way from achieving an accepting state of grace, if he ever could. He didn’t want to marry her. He didn’t want to be married, full stop. Nor did he want a baby, he conceded with corrosive bitterness. Nothing was likely to alter those irrefutable facts.

      Three short weeks later, almost lost in a frothy sea of handmade lace and expensive silken fabric, Prudence walked down the aisle on her grandfather’s arm to become a wife. Although she took small, sensible steps, she was mentally floating on air and overjoyed to be marrying the man she loved. Not a single doubt clouded her optimistic outlook.

      As the day moved on, however, harsh reality was destined to deliver a series of knockout blows to her rosy hopes for the future Within hours, her happiness would be destroyed and her trust shattered. When her bridegroom drank himself unconscious at the reception and had to be carried into the marital bedroom, only Theo Demakis was tactless enough to laugh. Hurt and humiliated beyond all bearing, Prudence suppressed all recollection of ever having thought that they might have had a real marriage because she was mortified by her naïvety. In spite of that common-sense attitude, the wedding night that never happened would still be the longest night of her life…