Page 100 of The Billionaire's Demand

She wouldn’t carry a long, trailing bouquet like Queen Elizabeth’s—the flowers she’d always fantasised about—but that didn’t matter. She was focusing beyond the wedding, on the marriage, and the baby. Once this formality was dealt with, she could start giving her attention to setting up Raul’s apartment for the arrival of their child.

It would feel real then.

Important to start preparing, decorating a nursery, buying clothes, getting ready for the reality of parenthood. There’d be childbirth classes too, and playgroups she could join.

Libby found great solace in turning her mind to those practical, baby-led plans, and she thought purely of their child as she dressed for the wedding.

She’d chosen a simple outfit, befitting the simple ceremony they’d be having, and at one o’clock she was preparing to go downstairs and hail a cab when the lift to the penthouse opened and Raul strode in, wearing a jet-black tuxedo with a snow-white shirt.

He was the last person Libby expected to see: in fact, she’d thought she wouldn’t see him for another hour, and not here but at the office where their wedding was to take place, and so her jaw dropped and her eyes widened.

‘You’re not supposed to be here,’ she blurted out. ‘It’s bad luck.’

His look was one of pure cynicism. ‘I think that horse has bolted, don’t you?’

She didn’t need reminding, on their wedding day, of all days, that he found the whole situation unlucky. Libby’s response was a tight smile. ‘I presumed we’d be meeting there.’

‘I brought you these.’

It was then that Libby noticed he was carrying a crisp white bag. She frowned, walking towards him, and when he extended it, she saw a bouquet of white roses inside, with baby’s breath poked in between. The bouquet was held together with a cream ribbon made of wide satin and pinned down the seam with pearls.

‘Oh,’ she said, staring at it, her mouth dry. It wasn’t what she had imagined and yet somehow it was lovely, and all the more so because he’d thought to arrange it for her. ‘Thank you.’

He nodded. ‘The photographer will meet us there.’

‘Photographer?’ she repeated, the detail yet another she’d presumed would be absent.

‘For wedding photos.’

She rolled her eyes. ‘I know what photographers do. I just didn’t think we’d have one.’

‘It’s the done thing, isn’t it?’

‘Maybe for real weddings, but do either of us really want to remember this day?’

His eyes narrowed imperceptibly and a muscle jerked in his jaw. ‘It’s not for us. Our son or daughter will appreciate seeing a photo in the future, I’m sure.’

‘Right,’ she agreed. This ruse was all for the baby. ‘Good thinking.’

‘Do you need to eat anything before we go?’

She shook her head. ‘I couldn’t possibly.’ Libby bit down on her lip. ‘I’m filled with butterflies.’

He lifted a brow.

‘Nerves,’ she clarified.

‘Why would you be nervous?’

‘Because I’m getting married, and to someone I don’t know particularly well,’ she pointed out. ‘It’s weird and strange and even though I know this isn’t a real marriage, I still feel like I’m about to do something momentous and important.’ She shrugged. ‘Aren’t you?’

‘Nervous?’

She nodded once.

‘No.’

‘Really? Not even a little?’

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