Page 10 of Marcel

“James told methat Marcel will be marrying Nikki Johnston in a short while. He isno longer available; do you understand that?” He shook heragain.

Leaning against thewall, she closed her eyes, the tears sliding down her cheeks.

“Oh, Simone,”Peter whispered, gathering into his arms. “Why can’t I beenough for you?”

“Take me home,”she said hoarsely. “I want to go home.”

*****

Nikki did not botherto go inside. Kicking off the killer shoes, she sat on the porch andcurled her feet beneath her. Pushing the swing with the momentum ofher body, she gazed at the Rhododendron bushes. She had kissed him.It had been an impulse on her part, or maybe it had been curiosityand need - the need to feel his lips on hers.

She had kept herfeelings at bay for so long that she had almost become an expert.Tipping her head back, she stared at the velvety sky littered withdazzling stars.

She had fallen underhis spell like all the other defenseless females at the corporateoffice. But unlike them, she knew there was no way he would beinterested in anything other than a fling.

She was aware of hisreputation and his arrogance. He was Marcel Hadley, not onlyincredibly gorgeous but also a brilliant lawyer. Those combinationswould be enough to make him completely self-confident. And now shewas going to marry him. “God help me.” She whisperedshakily.

Chapter 3

The considerable hypesurrounding their courtship left the public with little to no doubtabout what it was leading to.

After their verypublic kiss in the hotel's gigantic ballroom, filled with the eliteof society, followed by several prominent dates—in finerestaurants, the ballet, the opera, and a showing at one of JacksonColby’s galleries—they were identified as a couple.

So, it was nosurprise to the same public and the avid curiosity of the press whentheir engagement was announced.

The same gossipmongers who had been speculating on the relationship between thegorgeous and wealthy lawyer of the famed Hadley family and aparticular wife of one of the senior partners were now focused on theromance blossoming between Marcel Hadley and the exquisite juniorpartner, Nikki Johnston.

Their engagementparty was a lavish affair, taking place at the family manor with afew ‘close friends and acquaintances’ there to witnessthe ‘proposal.’

Now, the day haddawned for the wedding, after only three weeks of a whirlwind ofdates and preparation for a ceremony that the press had predictedwould be the wedding of the year.

Invitations to theevent were sent to a selected and very fortunate three hundredpeople, with the press's appearance limited to even fewerwell-respected reporters.

The bride had notbeen at her house since the night before the wedding but was stayingat the manor, where she would be ‘handled’ by the famousstylist Pierre, who had been flown in from Paris to take care ofmakeup and hair.

The dress was beingkept a close secret, but the rumors were that it was a Romanooriginal that had been hastily and tastefully put together under thewatchful eyes of Monique Romano herself.

The bachelor’sparty was held at the exclusive Elite Club, where the groom, hisfather, and his brother were members.

A conference room hadbeen reserved for the event.

Excusing himself fromthe festivities, Marcel slid the open glass doors leading to thepatio to take the phone call.

A very tearful Simonewas on the line, her words twisting him into knots.

“It’s nottoo late,” she whispered hoarsely. For the past three weeks,they had not seen each other at all. Marcel had warned her that itwould not be prudent for them to be seen together, and theircommunications had been relegated to a few abbreviated phone callsduring the day.

“It is,”he told her tightly, walking along the wide tiled floor that led tothe east of the club. From his vantage point, the view wasspectacular. It was almost ten at night, and people splashing in thepool directly below him could be heard. It was the end of July, andhe could feel the balmy breeze against his skin.

The moon was full,its silver light shimmering over the tops of trees that had beenprofessionally trimmed just a few days ago. No speck of leaf or astrand of grass was out of place on the immaculate lawn. The scent ofcarefully tended roses spiked the air, filling it with nature’sperfume.

“And you aregoing to have to stop calling me.”

“I can’t,”she whispered brokenly. “I need you, Marcel, and you promisedyou would always be there for me.”

“Not as yourlover.” Pacing back to the opposite side of the patio, helifted a hand to rub the back of his neck to relieve the tension.

He had spent timewith Nikki and reluctantly found himself drawn to her. She wasintriguing, irreverent, and painfully blunt. She had wrung laughterfrom him while they were seated at their table at the restaurantsthey had gone to.

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