THE TYCOON'S REBEL BRIDE(31)
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THE TYCOON’S REBEL BRIDE
43
MAYA BANKS
SILHOUETTE DESIRE 1944
THE ANETAKIS TYCOONS
For this moment, she was his, in his arms, and he wasn’t in any hurry to
relinquish her to her waiting suitors. They’d gathered around the perimeter of the dance
area like a bunch of vultures.
For the first time, he regretted his hasty decision to assist Isabella in her search for
a husband. She was too young to think of marriage. She should be out having fun, not
thinking of making a lifelong commitment.
And yet he was poised to do just that. Panic scuttled up his spine. Then he firmly
tamped it down. Before Isabella came bursting into his life, he was more than content
over the idea of marrying Alannis and settling down to have children. Isabella was a
temporary distraction, nothing more. As soon as things were settled between him and
Alannis, and he had Isabella on her path to security and stability, he was confident that
he’d embrace his future without hesitation.
When the song died, Theron dropped his hands and then enfolded Isabella’s in
his. “Come, pethi mou. Your party awaits.”
Isabella donned her best smile and allowed Theron to lead her through the
assembled guests to where the band was set up. Theron held a hand out, and the music
stopped. Then he turned to face the guests.
“I appreciate you coming for the occasion to welcome Isabella Caplan to our
city,” Theron said in a congenial tone.
A waiter approached and handed Isabella a glass of champagne then turned to
offer Theron one. He held it at waist level as he continued to address the crowd.
“We’re here to enjoy an evening of entertainment, dancing and conversation.
You’re welcome to stay as long as you want, or until the booze runs out,” he added with a
smile.
Laughter rang out.
He turned to Isabella and held out his glass. “A toast to Isabella.”
“To Isabella,” the guests echoed.
Theron touched his glass to hers and their gazes locked. For a long moment they
simply stared. And then Theron broke away and took a long swallow.
Though she had no desire to wade through the eligible men assembled at Theron’s
request—it reminded her of choosing steaks at a butcher shop—she knew she’d have to
play the part, particularly if she had any hope of making Theron jealous. It was a long
shot, because he’d have to feel more for her than simple lust, but at the moment, it was
her only hope.
The toast seemed to have signaled a return to normal activities. The band struck
up a song, and people swirled onto the dance floor.
“Come with me, Bella. It’s time to introduce you around.”
“You mean it’s time for me to meet the men you’ve assembled for me,” she said
dryly.
He glanced questioningly at her. “Would you prefer not to meet them? There’s
nothing to say you have to.”
He sounded almost hopeful, a little too eager, which was strange considering the
time he had to have spent putting together his group of bachelors. The background checks
alone would have been an enormous undertaking. And he wouldn’t have left a single
stone unturned.
She nearly grinned at the thought.
Generated by Foxit PDF Creator © Foxit Software
http://www.foxitsoftware.com For evaluation only.
THE TYCOON’S REBEL BRIDE
44
MAYA BANKS
SILHOUETTE DESIRE 1944
THE ANETAKIS TYCOONS
“No, let’s do it. My future awaits and all that,” she said lightly.
She curled her hand around his arm and allowed him to lead her into the crowd.
Unsure of what she could expect, and maybe she’d thought there would be a stampede,
she was pleasantly surprised by how civilized the whole process was.
Theron took her around from group to group, introducing her to business
acquaintances and friends. It was easy to immerse herself in the fantasy that she and
Theron were together, and he was acting as her escort and not a man bent on marrying
her off. It was also easy to forget that just a few feet away, Alannis and her mother stood,
observing the goings-on.
Still, Isabella wasn’t ready to let reality intrude, and she clung to Theron’s arm all
the while offering a smile or a laugh as she engaged in conversation. After awhile she
found herself relaxing and genuinely enjoying the festive gathering.
She glanced up as an attractive man made his way in her direction, a determined
look on his face. She recognized him as Marcus Atwater, the man who’d introduced
himself in the restaurant the day before.
“Isabella, my apologies for my late arrival,” he said as he approached. He flashed