The Scandal Behind the Wedding

by Bella Frances

  She sent him a quick smile and shrugged.

  ‘So Babs drilled it into me—and we could never afford hot foreign holidays anyway. I think we had a couple of day-trips to France. But mostly she had to work, and I was quite happy to help out. In fact I loved it.’

  ‘Yeah? What could you do in a pub—as a child, I mean?’

  ‘Oh, tons of stuff. Mostly cleaning—which I hated. Helping in the kitchen with the lunches. And serving them. But never behind the bar. Babs was strict about that. Not until I was eighteen.’

  She twirled her foot round and round in the water again. Smiled to herself.

  He put his arm round her shoulders. Skin on skin. It felt natural. Good.

  ‘We were so close. Just the two of us. And she was so happy for me to get my “lucky break”, as she called it—the chance to move away and get a better life. Only I don’t see it like that now. Being here has made me realise how much I value my home...London...and—oh, you know—the buzz! The rain...the seasons... Christmas in the cold instead of in sand and sunshine.’

  He really didn’t know why but he felt even more aggravated by that comment. ‘You mean you wouldn’t even think about staying out here?’ Why was he asking that? What did he care?

  ‘I don’t have anything to hold me here.’

  Her foot stilled in the pool. Ripples spread. Silence lengthened.

  ‘No, I suppose not.’

  He still held her, but the easiness of it had gone. Her shoulders were rigid where they lay under his arm. He eased away from her and sank back into the water.

  ‘Swim?’

  She smiled a soft little smile. Shook her head.

  ‘I think I’d better go inside now. Just in case. You know...sunburn.’

  ‘Okay. I’ll catch you up. Then I need to make some last-minute checks on things—just a few emails.’ He braced his hands on the rocky ledge, watching as she stood. A definite detachment. Eve after the apple. ‘Will you be ready for eight?’

  ‘’Course.’

  He watched her walk back inside. No coy over-the-shoulder glance this time. Brisk. Grabbed the robe. Gone.

  * * *

  Every step was a stomp.

  She stomped from the spa to the changing room. She grabbed her clothes and stomped along the polished floors to Reception and on to the Honeymoon Suite. She flung open the door and stomped to the bar. Cracked open some water and drank from the bottle—no one to see her; she didn’t care.

  She’d phone Babs. She’d tell her what she’d done—what she was doing. She’d get a dose of cockney common sense and then she’d feel better. Because, really, what she’d been doing up until now—living in a land of make-believe—that was all going to come crashing round her ears any day now. And she really, really needed to prepare herself.

  She belted the robe tighter, almost satisfied by the uncomfortable tug on her waist. Reached for her phone, where it lay charging on a side table under the shelter of a large-brimmed lamp.

  The screen was a blur of messages. She scrolled through them. Shook her head at her own selfishness. She hadn’t warned Babs and now the whole world knew what she’d done.

  She cringed as she dialled the number—didn’t even want to read the messages.

  ‘Georgia, where are you? What’s happened?’

  Her voice was so close she could be standing in The Tavern right now.

  ‘I’m sorry—I got married,’ she blurted.

  ‘You got married? So it’s true? Congratulations! I mean, I didn’t believe it at first, but... Wow, sweetheart, who is it?’

  How typical of her sister not to give her any guilt—just to sound happy for her. She felt even worse.

  ‘It’s a long story, Babs. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before it—happened.’

  ‘That’s not important! It’s you that’s important—and your husband. Oh, my goodness, Georgia, he looks so handsome in those pictures. Tell me about him.’

  ‘He’s...just a guy I met.’

  That wasn’t the right thing to say. What was the right thing to say? She didn’t want to tell her the truth. And she didn’t want to lie.

  ‘He’s lovely, Babs. Kind, generous. Warm, funny. Clever—really, really clever. And, yes...’ She sighed, hearing herself. ‘He is incredibly handsome.’

  ‘And you love him? More important than any of that. You do love him?’

  She swallowed the huge hot bubble in her throat. ‘Yes, I love him very much.’

  She could almost hear the sigh that Babs exhaled. Could almost see her shoulders sag in satisfaction.

  ‘Thank goodness. That’s the main thing. You know, I never, ever thought I would say this, but I always suspected that your wanting to marry Nick was more about filling up an emptiness inside than because you really loved him. But this must be different—you wouldn’t have rushed ahead if you weren’t sure.’

  Oh, she was sure, all right. Sure that she was in deep. And sure that if she didn’t put the brakes on immediately she was going to wind up in a giant pile-up of heartache bigger than she had ever thought possible.

  ‘So, do you think you might manage to come home at some point?’

  She closed her eyes on the guilt, the shame. ‘Babs, I’m sorry that we just—just went ahead and did it without you there. And I promise I’ll be home soon—really soon. Honest.’

  ‘Oh, Georgia, that’s great. I can’t wait to meet him. And to give you my blessing. And don’t even think about being sorry. I can only imagine how you must have been swept off your feet. A real fairytale wedding.’

  And the ‘fairytale’ would continue with this intimate dinner party later.

  She clicked off the phone, never so grateful to end a conversation with her sister in her life. She only hoped she’d figure out what to tell her by the time she finally got home. Because she doubted Babs would be pleased that she’d married a man for money. Even if some of it was to pay off her debts.

  * * *

  Indigo was exquisite. Eight courses of the most tiny, delicious morsels she’d ever tasted, matched with perfectly complementary wines. Danny’s friends were lovely too, and Georgia was pleased to see that Ursula and her husband were among them.

  She wore the colours of the coral reef—bright peaches and dark aquamarines in a simple silk shift. She tied her hair in a messy knot, daubed her lids with turquoise and kept her lips nude. Added nude heels and clutch and a simple turquoise cuff. Her rings sparkled. Her smile sparkled. Her heart was heavy.

  Danny was clean-shaven in an exquisitely tailored suit. Bond-like. Lethal.

  She had armed herself as best she could. The hours waiting for him to return to the suite had been a blessing. She had slept a little, answered a few texts and emails, read a little. She’d drunk water and filed her nails. A manicurist was on hand, of course, but she would rather maintain some shard of herself in this whirlwind week. And she’d already promised herself she could just about manage nails.

  Her heart was another matter entirely. She stared at the band of gold that encased her finger like a vice.

  ‘Georgia, would you like to take coffee out on the terrace?’

  She looked up. Danny was watching her. They all were.

  ‘Sorry—I was...’

  ‘You were staring at your beautiful rings and imagining all the wonderful years ahead. Isn’t that right, Georgia?’

  No wonder Ursula was an ambassador. She’d found the perfect thing to say in a
moment when everyone must have been wondering what on earth was wrong with her.

  She smiled as broadly as she could. Danny took her hand and squeezed it. She opened her mouth to reply but the words wouldn’t come. How could she sit there and lie? She looked at their faces. Expectant, happy faces. Then, as the silence extended, curious.

  ‘Georgia, you’ll outshine that diamond every day of your life.’

  His friends smiled, happy that the pause had been filled with such a romantic sentence. She smiled too. What a lovely thing for her new husband to say.

  He had been expertly seguing all night. From the So, how did you two meet? to the So, there really is such a thing as love at first sight! he had skilfully overtaken every answer and switched lane seamlessly into a new subject. Thank goodness—because though they had practised their story—met at a party, whirlwind romance—she was such a useless liar that the fewer times she had to talk about it, the better.

  They moved to the terrace. To the heavy air that would play havoc with her hair. But still it was easier than sitting in the perfectly chilled dining area under such affectionate scrutiny. She felt Danny behind her, all at once soothing and startling.

  He leaned into her, his breath on her ear.

  ‘You’ve won them over. They love you.’ He squeezed her shoulders, placed a kiss on her neck. ‘There’s not long to go now. There are some photographers outside, apparently. We’ll give them a picture on our way out. You all right with that?’

  She nodded. The conspiracy continued.

  ‘Great. We’ll have one drink—then head back.’

  He took her hand, fell into his role beautifully.

  They sat out, sipping and chatting and idling away the minutes. He lavished her with attention and affection and her fairytale world seemed woozily real again. The beautiful surroundings, the adorable people, the gorgeous husband, the carefree life. She felt herself teetering on the edge of that seductive, shimmering world. As if she really could slip inside and live it.

  The handsome Prince sat on a low chair, legs easy, whisky tumbler dangling in his fingers. Even off duty, even on his wedding night, the embers of his power glowed dully. He was magnetic. Everyone was drawn to him and even she found it hard not to bask in his glow.

  Man-chat flowed on one side, woman-chat on the other. She half listened, half replied. Danny switched his glass into his other hand and sought out hers. His eyes never moved but the squeeze was one of...solidarity?...affection?...intimacy? Whatever it was, it conveyed a little shot of warmth that she drank up greedily.

  ‘So, Danny, you’ll have put your brother totally in the shade now.’

  His hand tensed. She swivelled her neck to see why. Such a simple sentence from Ursula’s husband, Ciaran, but he looked nonplussed. No tense jaw, no frowning eyes. But there had been a definite flare of tension—she’d felt it.

  ‘The first Ryan to be married! You’ll be heading home to celebrate? Show off your new bride? Show your brother and sister what they need to do to measure up?’

  ‘Yes, we’ve got plans to do that. After London. Georgia’s sister is first on the list. But all of that comes after the Sheikh. We’ve got a few days at the palace to get this deal closed down. Georgia’s really looking forward to meeting him.’

  ‘Well, you’ve set the bar for your brother—that’s for sure. I’m thinking Mark must be next up. Surely he’s going to make an honest woman of that girl?’

  ‘Not sure who he’s with at the moment. Georgia—another drink? Or have you had enough?’

  ‘Ah, well, interesting times in the Ryan household. Must admit I never thought that out of the three of you you would be the first to tie the knot. Or to own a company that’s about to hit the Fortune Five Hundred list. That must go some way to mending your mother’s broken heart.’

  ‘Yeah, well, you shouldn’t always judge on appearances. Georgia—let’s get out of here, shall we?’

  For a moment she just stared. It was the growl in his voice as much as the fluid move out of his seat that startled her.

  ‘’Course!’

  She stood up—jerked up. Turned to the lovely Ursula and hugged her. The rest of the party fell back into happy chatter, but there was no mistaking the uncomfortable pause

  ‘Have a lovely evening, Georgia, and don’t mind his moods. They’re much better than they were.’ Ursula squeezed her close and smiled. ‘And I’m sure we’ll become firm friends—call me when you’re back from your travels and we’ll meet up. Promise?’

  Georgia looked round. Danny was saying a swift goodbye with a wave of his hand and a purposeful stride towards the door.

  ‘What just happened there? What’s the story with his brother?’ she asked Ursula.

  ‘Oh, it’s all in the past. Don’t worry—I’m sure he’ll tell you in his own time.’

  Another hug. Another squeeze. Another question raised.

  She swallowed. Looked round at this handsome man, with the world at his feet and a dark secret in his heart. She was getting in too deep. Caring too much.

  The impulse to cut and run suddenly reared up inside her. She had one million in the bank. She’d seen the bank draft. She’d agreed to stay—to help him play out his charade—but the flames of trouble were crackling more loudly. Should she stay for the other million? Help him to get his longed-for deal?

  But what price did she place on her heart?

  CHAPTER SIX

  ‘DO NOT QUESTION ME. It’s not your business.’

  Georgia closed her mouth, swallowed. Stunned, almost, by the ferocity of his tone. He thrummed with black anger and she found herself backing away to the far side of the wide leather seat in the chauffeur-driven car.

  She had been about to ask—it was true. In the way she would have asked a toddler why he was crying. Because seeing another human in pain hurt her and she wanted to help fix things. His reaction was like that of a damaged child. She had seen it often enough in the inner city nursery where she’d worked before she’d come here. Poor little souls who were angry at the world and didn’t know why.

  But he was a grown man. A man who commanded, controlled and conveyed power. She’d seen with her own eyes how people deferred to him. And it wasn’t through fear: it was through respect. So just what were these black moods Ursula referred to? What was the family secret of his mother’s broken heart? And could she follow her own advice and stop worrying about it?

  The car rolled along through the night. Swollen silence thick with secrets filled the space. Everything outside became so much more interesting than anything inside. It was like waiting for thunder and the onslaught of torrential rain.

  ‘I’m not going to ask about it...’ She began slowly, chose her words carefully. ‘But I am going to insist that you don’t embarrass me like that again. Even for the short time that we’ll be together.’

  As if a fire had suddenly been ignited the air was devoured. Her breath hitched in her throat as she turned her head to face him. The black mask of his anger darkened—then dropped.

  ‘Apologies.’

  ‘You’ve said that to me before. But it’s just a word. Like when you apologised for Tommy, or whatever his name was, for being lewd in the elevator. Just words.’

  He raged. She could see it in his face, feel it in his presence. A symphony of sturm und drang. Black, dark and unforgiving. She could sense his battle to regain control. She could see it too. His fingers had curled into fists and his clean-shaven ja
w was square and tense.

  ‘It’s not just a word, Georgia.’

  His voice was a curl of control. A quiet, low growl. He was fearsome.

  But she was not afraid. Emotions didn’t faze her. Losing her job, letting her sister down, never getting home—those things were worth worrying about. Anger was an emotion. She could handle that. And she could handle him. He might have the rest of the world cowering when things weren’t just the way he wanted, but not her. For some reason she felt that she understood him, that she could see past his fury.

  Her problem wasn’t that he made her fearful. Her problem was all the other emotions he’d unleashed.

  ‘It is until you act it out. Danny, whether or not I was acting as your wife, tonight I was your guest. And I—and everybody else in our company—deserved to be treated well.’

  ‘They were treated perfectly well,’ he growled. ‘That’s the best restaurant in the Emirates. We had everything we could possibly want there—the view, the food, wine, service...’

  ‘Yes. And we had you. The best possible host. The man everybody defers to. The one everyone wanted to be with tonight. Everybody looks up to you.’

  She couldn’t see his face at all now. But it was clear she had his attention.

  ‘But no one wants to be in the middle of something like that! We were having a lovely time until you got angry—and I don’t want to know the reason. I just want you to appreciate the reaction—of everybody. That’s all.’

  She waited for him to interject but his blank face had been turned away from her.

  ‘The world seems to revolve around you, Danny. The sun, moon and stars are all just waiting for your bidding. But the moment things aren’t exactly as you’ve planned them this horrible...darkness falls. It’s like a black hole. And we all get sucked inside until you decide that the sun can come out again.’

  The intensity of his presence was almost stifling, but it had to be said. She couldn’t just pretend that it was all right.