The Greek's Christmas Bride(12)

But how could she be so naïve and unreasonable as to demand fidelity from him? He knew what he was, hell, even she knew what he was! But he had promised to try and he would try because he stuck to his word, even if it choked him. And on some strange level he was conscious that her stance had made him respect her. She had standards and nothing he could offer would sway her from them.





CHAPTER FIVE

PIXIE TWIRLED IN front of the full-length mirror and smiled hesitantly because her glossy reflection was unfamiliar. Having enjoyed the attentions of a make-up artist and a grooming day at a salon recommended by Holly, Pixie had never before enjoyed such a level of sophisticated presentation.

‘I really did think you’d choose to wear white,’ Holly confided.

‘White would be wasted on Apollo,’ Pixie replied, wrinkling her nose and making Holly laugh. ‘If I ever get to have a real wedding, I’ll wear white.’

‘I still can’t believe you’re marrying him. I was really shocked when Vito told me.’

Pixie sat down on the end of the bed and studied her linked hands. ‘There’s still stuff you don’t know about the deal I made with Apollo,’ she admitted uncomfortably because she could not bring herself to admit that sex and conception were involved, fearing that Holly would think badly of her for being so desperate that she would agree to a demand of that nature.

Yet while remaining fearful of the judgement of others, Pixie had made peace with that condition on her own behalf. She had always planned to become a mother some day, to have a child who was absolutely her own to love and nurture and protect. To fulfil that longing while married and to be assured of a future income with which to raise that child might yet prove to be the best chance she would ever get to have a baby and give it the happy childhood she had personally missed out on.

After all, she was no great shakes at dating, she acknowledged ruefully. She had always had to force herself out of the door to even socialise with men and the few she had taken the risk of spending time with had turned her off the notion entirely. Consequently she had decided that, left to her own devices, it was perfectly possible that she would’ve stayed single and alone and would never have had the opportunity to settle down with a partner and have a family. On that basis, she had decided that her agreement with Apollo Metraxis might well have advantages she had initially overlooked because, however briefly, she would get to experience being a wife and, hopefully, a mother.

Apollo had shared the test results that had come back on one of his calls from Athens. They were both healthy and normal as far as the entry-level testing they had had could establish. There was no obvious reason why they shouldn’t conceive as a couple. He was still rather cool and clipped with her in tone because she had not seen him since they had parted at odds after that legal meeting, but Pixie had no regrets on that score. His fidelity while they were trying to conceive, as far as she was concerned, was non-negotiable. It wasn’t much to ask, she reflected with faint bitterness and resentment; shouldn’t it be a simple question of respect and decency? Apollo couldn’t escape every moral obligation by throwing the ‘business arrangement’ label at her. But how hard would he ‘endeavour’ to meet her expectations? As a promise, it might well not be worth the paper it was written on.

‘Well, you’ve finally told me about Patrick and there can’t be anything worse than the mess he’s got himself into, so I fully understand why you’re doing this,’ Holly said, squeezing her friend’s shoulder soothingly. ‘But you should’ve come to me for help.’

‘Patrick’s my problem, not yours,’ Pixie pointed out with a hint of fierceness because her friend’s desire to be generous with her money seriously embarrassed her. ‘And this way I won’t owe anyone anything. Apollo needs me as much as I need him and I prefer it like that.’

‘It’s a pity he’s so...so...’ Holly struggled to find a word, her cheeks colouring because it was occurring to her that now Pixie was marrying Apollo, even though it wouldn’t be a proper marriage, possibly a little tact was required.

‘He’s been very good to Hector,’ Pixie murmured thoughtfully. ‘You know, rich or not, I don’t think Apollo had it easy growing up either. Five stepmothers...what must that have been like for a little boy?’

‘He’s strong. He survived just like us. I suppose what I really wanted to ask is...how will you cope with his women?’

Pixie reddened and her pretty pearlised nails dug into the fabric of her wedding gown.

‘Don’t go falling for him, Pixie,’ Holly warned her anxiously. ‘He dumps women the instant they get clingy or needy and he seems to have the sexual attention span of a firefly.’

‘Oh, I don’t think I’m in any danger of making that particular mistake,’ Pixie responded in a more relaxed tone of quiet confidence.

She lusted after Apollo and that was all and, as he himself had commented, that was a positive in their situation. The truth that he could make a single kiss that irresistible had been very persuasive. For the first time ever Pixie wasn’t in fear at the prospect of having sex. Until he had opened his big mouth and referred to having sex in the limousine Apollo had made sex seem warm and intimate rather than sleazy, potentially painful and scary. He had also made it incredibly exciting.

Pixie’s thoughts drifted much the way her dreams had throughout the week leading up to her wedding day, dreams filled with humiliating X-rated images that disturbed her sleep and woke her up hot and breathless and feeling quite unlike her usual sensible self.

Manfred arrived to tell them that the limo had arrived. Her foster mother, Sylvia Ware, was meeting them at the hotel where the civil ceremony would be staged because Holly had arranged transportation for the older woman. But Holly, Vito and Sylvia, as well as Pixie’s brother and his partner, would be the only guests because it was to be a very small, quiet wedding, appropriate for a male who not only abhorred publicity but had also recently buried his father. Apollo had initially said no to her brother’s attendance but had surprised her by giving way after she had argued that she had to somehow explain why she was leaving the UK. She had agreed not to tell Patrick the truth though.

Before she went into the private function room where the celebrant was staging the ceremony, Pixie paused to twitch her hair straight in a convenient mirror and breathed in very deep. On every level the step she was about to take daunted her because every aspect of living with Apollo Metraxis would be frighteningly new to her and Pixie only ever felt safe with what was familiar and harmless. Sadly, Apollo didn’t fit into either category. But, true to her nature, Pixie lifted her head high, straightened her spine and her eyes glittered with determination as Holly opened the door for her to enter the function room. Whatever she felt on the inside, however, Pixie would conceal. Showing nerves and insecurities in Apollo’s radius would be like bleeding in the water near a killer shark.

* * *

Apollo’s rampant impatience lifted when the door opened. She was five minutes late and for all of those five minutes he had wondered if she had got cold feet. Now with the opening of that door his natural cynicism reasserted its hold on him. Pixie was being very well rewarded for marrying him and when had he ever known a woman to turn her back on an opportunity to enrich herself? In his experience, money talked much louder than anything else. And then Pixie came into view.

And all such thoughts vanished at amazing speed from Apollo’s mind. She was wearing bright pink, not white, and a short dress rather than a full-length one. And she looked exactly like a tiny, very elaborate porcelain doll in dainty heels. He stopped breathing, shimmering green eyes locked to her delicate face beneath the feathery, distinctly un-bridal fascinator crowning her golden head. For all her lack of height she looked ridiculously regal with her hair swept up, her skin glowing, silvery eyes wide and bright, bee-stung lips as pink as the gown. And in only a few more minutes she would be his woman, he reflected with a sudden deep satisfaction that was new to him. His in a way no other woman ever had been or would be in the future because there would be no more marriages ahead of him. He had learned from his father’s mistakes that there was no perfect wife out there waiting if only you could find her, at least not if you were a Metraxis and richer than sin. But still Apollo could not look away from the vision his bride presented.

Pixie collided with emerald-green eyes that glittered like jewels below the thick black lashes longer than her own. Riveting. Powerful. Hungry. And she suffered a heady instant of disbelief that she could have that effect on Apollo, the notorious womaniser accustomed to females more beautiful than she could ever hope to be. She had tried so hard not to think of that aspect for comparisons of that nature were fruitless and would merely feed her anxieties in bed and out of bed with him. Colour ran riot up over her face because she had quite deliberately avoided reflecting on the end result of marrying Apollo...the wedding night. Would it be good or would her inexperience and his emotional detachment make it a disaster?

She reached his side and was dismayed to register that she was trembling. She had travelled in the space of seconds from telling herself that she was calm and composed to a jangling state of nerves that appalled her. As the celebrant began to read the wedding service, she forced herself to look up and encountered a searching look from Vito, who was smiling. Unnerved, she looked down again, her heart thumping very fast while Apollo threaded a ring onto her finger, his hand as warm and steady as hers was cold and shaky. Lighten up, it’s a business arrangement, she reminded herself when the man and wife bit was pronounced and it was over and she believed she could relax again. At least she believed that for as long as it took Apollo to swing her round, his other arm sliding below her hips to lift her in what could only have been described as a caveman kiss.