Page 6 of Marcel

Romano’soriginal cost was a fortune, but she knew the occasion called for it,and it was well spent. The material hugged her curves and did notallow for any sort of underwear.

Her thickgolden-brown curls had been tamed and styled in a tight chignon atthe nape of her neck. A thin gold necklace with a teardrop diamondpendant settled between the volleys of her small breasts.

Diamonds were at herlobes and around her left wrist. Her makeup was flawless, and herlipstick was a shimmering orange, highlighting her full bottom lip.

She was beautiful—thefact was there and could not be denied—but she had never usedher looks to get any special favors. She had been brought up to useher mind.

“When yourbeauty will have faded, the mind is what you must rely on.” Hermother had drummed into her head.

Her eyes shimmeredwith unshed tears as she recalled the once strong and beautiful womanwhose sharp mind had been reduced to a child's.

Shaking her head, sheentered the closet to get her stole and a beaded purse. It was June,and the weather had turned balmy, but it tended to become chilly atnight. Draping the stole around her shoulders, she left the bedroomand went downstairs.

The house was thesame one she had grown up in since she was a baby. She had been aboutto sell it but had felt the terrible feeling that she was getting ridof memories of not only her childhood but also that of her parents.

Something else shewould never acknowledge to anyone but herself: the hope that hermother would someday get better and walk back inside and be the womanshe had been.

It was too big forone person, but she had someone coming in three times a week to takecare of the place.

Her neighbor, Ben,did the yard work and ensured the place was cut and the hedgestrimmed. Getting into her vehicle, she closed her eyes as theintoxicating scent of begonias and sweet peas blooming near the frontporch hit her nostrils. Reluctantly, she put the top of the BMW upand set out to the Royal Palace Hotel several miles away.

*****

In the half-hour hehad arrived, he had switched from champagne to scotch. And he wasavoiding his entire family, even his sister, who had nothing to dowith this pickle he was facing.

After talking withNikki last night, he had gone to his townhouse and drank from a halfbottle of bourbon before stumbling into bed. He had also ignored hismother's call and had spent the morning suffering from a massivehangover.

Now, he was dressedin a tux and pretending that he wanted to be in the elegant ballroomwaiting for a woman who would be his wife. Maybe she would not turnup. Or she had decided this was a ludicrous plan and had changed hermind.

He was lifting hisglass to his lips when he heard the stir and the shift in the air.She was walking into the ballroom as if she owned the damned place,and he had to admit that she was a beauty. She knew it as well, hethought in disgust.

He had seen Simoneand ignored the silent plea for him to come over. The press was outin abundance, and he knew that people were watching, especially herhusband.

His mouth tightenedwhen he saw his father going over to take Nikki’s arm and knewthey were heading towards him. Wondering what they would do if heignored them and left, he had to fight the temptation to do justthat.

People had turned towatch the progress while the rest were watching him. Forcing his faceto relax into a neutral expression, he leaned against the counternegligently as he sipped his drink.

It seemed to take aninterminably long time for them to reach him because of the numerousstops they had to make with people wanting to talk.

Finally, they were infront of him, and he was forced to smile when his facial muscles wereanything but relaxed.

“I was hopingyou would not show up.” he retorted bluntly, insolently slidinghis gaze from her exquisite face to the volley of her bosom.

“Were you?”

He felt theunreasonable anger rising inside him at the amused look on her face.

“Why don’tyou take her out on the dance floor, son?” James asked with adetermined look on his face. “And I hope I don’t need toremind you that almost everyone is watching.”

“Shall we,darling?” His deep voice was caustic as he reached for her arm,his fingers digging into her bare skin. “I have not beenbrought up to speed on the amount you are being paid to become mywife, but I am guessing you are very well compensated.”

“Marcel-”

“Why don’twe discuss how materialistic I am on the dance floor?” Nikkiintervened smoothly with a blinding smile.

Keeping his hand onher arm, he took her into his arms, trying to ignore the feel of herslender curves and the intoxicating scent of her perfume.

“We are beingwatched.”

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