Page 44 of Reclaimed By His Billion-Dollar Ring

The wedding was to be as quiet as Calanthe could make it.

She wanted minimum stress on her father.

And on herself.

Her mind slid sideways, as it had been doing ever since she had sent that fateful email of acceptance to Nikos.

A feeling of complete unreality had settled over her as she’d gone through the motions required for organising the civil wedding she’d insisted on.

Despite her father’s objections she’d held adamant on that point. She’d also been adamant that no announcement at all would be made of the forthcoming wedding. She would, she’d informed her father, tell their friends afterwards, justifying her decision by revealing her father’s ill health.

There was one other thing she had remained adamant about. Nikos had moved out of his hotel and into a rented flat, near enough to both Marousi and Kiffisia, but he would live in it on his own until the wedding. Calanthe had been crystal-clear about that.

‘My father will expect it,’ she told Nikos. ‘And nor do I want to leave him at this time, while he is still so weak.’

Nikos hadn’t liked it—but had gone along with it. Besides, he’d been busy too, she knew. He was running his own company remotely—albeit with one quick trip back to Zurich—and immersing himself in the running of her father’s company too.

She, too, had alterations to make in her life. She knew she would have to give up her job in London...see if she could take up full-time work of a comparable nature here in Athens.

Keeping busy had helped. Helped her stop thinking about what she was doing. Helped her stop thinking about Nikos.

She was holding him at bay, she knew. And she knew why too. She was keeping their time together at a minimum, citing her own desire to spend as much time with her father as she could before moving out of his home. Again, Nikos hadn’t liked it—but had gone along with it.

His words from the lunch where she had given in to what he wanted echoed in her head.

‘...if I cannot woo you properly before our wedding, I will woo you after...’

She pulled her mind away. She could not think about ‘after’ until it came.

Nikos said the words he needed to say. Heard Calanthe say hers. Heard the officiant speak his part.

Apart from the necessary witnesses and officials, the only other person present at Kifissia’s town hall was Georgios Petranakos. Drawn and ill as he still was, there was a look on the older man’s face that was one of satisfaction. Relief.

It was something Nikos could echo—and far more intensely.

Finally, Calanthe was his!

Eight years ago he’d left her—

His thoughts pulled away from the memory like a plane hitting turbulence.

But now...

Now I will never walk away again.

Emotion welled within him, inchoate but powerful. He did not know what it was—only that it made him turn and look at her now, feeling it rise within him again, catching at his lungs.

How much she moved him!

Just to look at her was a delight.

She wore a simple cream dress, narrow-cut, knee-length, and with cap sleeves. Expensive, obviously, but not showy—discreetly elegant. Also low-heeled court shoes and pearls at her ears and throat, with her hair in a coiled chignon set with pearl combs. Her make-up was subtle, but enhanced her natural beauty. In her hands was a small bouquet of cream-coloured flowers, delicately scented, hand-tied with cream satin ribbons.

Nikos’s breath caught again as he felt that strange emotion well up in him once more. She looked, he thought, like perfection itself.

The slightest frown formed between his brows.

But her expression was grave...tense, even.

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