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She was afraid to look at him again during the service in case she forgot where she was again. Yet she remained aware of him with every fibre of her being. She gave her responses in a clear voice that sounded a lot calmer than she felt. They exchanged rings. Her tension eased the moment they were pronounced man and wife. He retained his hold on her hand.
‘You look magnificent, hara mou,’ Leonidas told her huskily. ‘That colour was made for you.’
‘I was terrified I would look as if I was starring in a costume drama,’ Maribel whispered back, encouraged into a burst of confidence. ‘But I just fell totally for the dress.’
‘You were rather late arriving at the church.’ Leonidas reached down to lift Elias, who was resisting his nanny’s attempt to remove him from the midst of things. Tired and fed up with being cooed over and admired, the little boy was starting to get cross.
‘It’s traditional.’ Maribel laughed, touched and pleased by the way Leonidas was beginning to intuitively look out for his son even when Elias was in a less-than appealing mood. ‘I could hardly leave you with all that luggage monogrammed with my new married initials.’
Leonidas discovered that his sense of humour wasn’t quite as robust as usual. He had a disconcerting vision of those suitcases piled up with all the other gifts he had given her. It would be like Maribel to leave every present behind if she left him. It bothered him that he still felt that edgy. A wedding ring would make any woman stop and think before doing anything foolish or impulsive, wouldn’t it? She was a church-goer and she had taken vows and made promises. Even so, all of a sudden, he was wondering at what precise point a marriage became official and binding—before or after the consummation?
In the vehicle that carried them back very slowly to the house, Maribel felt a little uncomfortable with her bridegroom’s silence. ‘How do you feel now that you’ve “got it all over with”?’ she asked, striving for a light teasing note because she was hoping to receive an answer that would soothe her insecurities.
‘Relieved,’ Leonidas admitted with the emphasis of pure sincerity, although he felt he would be even more relieved when the day was over. He was making a valiant effort to rise above the ignominy of being forced to travel in an open carriage lined with blue velvet and drawn by four white horses prancing along with azure plumes bobbing in their head collars. He was learning a lot about Maribel’s bridal preferences and a great deal of it was surprisingly colourful stuff, wholly out of step with her bridegroom’s sophisticated tastes.
Maribel felt that, had they just attended a very trying event, she could have understood if he had confessed to a sense of relief. Just as quickly, she scolded herself for being oversensitive. Many men were reputed to dislike the fuss and formality of weddings. Was she getting carried away with the fantasy of her theatrical dress, the church romantically awash with roses, or the thrill of the carriage ride? She gave herself a stern lecture, because a magical wedding day didn’t really change anything. It didn’t mean that Leonidas would be miraculously transformed into a guy who loved her as much as she loved him. That was the stuff of dreams and she was a practical woman, wasn’t she?
When the carriage drew up outside the house, Leonidas sprang out with alacrity and reached up to lift his bride down. But he didn’t put her down again. Black lashes curling low over mesmeric golden eyes, he prised her lips apart with a sensual flick of his tongue and set about plundering the delicate interior of her mouth with a carnal expertise that caught her wholly unprepared. Her mind went blank; she was overwhelmed. Sensual firecrackers of response went fizzing and flaring through her bloodstream. The tips of her breasts tingled and her insides turned liquid. Slowly he lowered her again until her fancy golden shoes found purchase on the plush red carpet that ran up to the entrance doors.
Eyes like sapphire stars, Maribel parted her love-bruised lips. She was about to speak when a movement to one side of Leonidas attracted her attention. The sight of a stranger with a camera, signalling her to stay still for another moment, rocked her back to planet earth again with a jarring thump. She had neither noticed nor recalled the team of professionals engaged to film their wedding day for posterity. But Leonidas was a good deal more observant. With perfect timing he had just delivered a perfectly choreographed clinch to mark the bridal couple’s arrival at the house.
‘Gone with the Wind has got nothing on you,’ Maribel remarked in a brittle voice, mortified pink highlighting her cheekbones. ‘Well, you did promise to ensure a good surface show and that was very much in line with what’s expected of a bridegroom.’
