Page 8 of The Return of Her Billionaire Husband

Joe gave a soft chuckle and released her. ‘Probably just as well. I don’t think anyone, least of all Damon and Lucy, are going to believe we’ve reconciled.’

A frown pulled at her brow. ‘You’re not going to...?’ She clamped her mouth shut and turned away to reach for her purse on the bed. ‘So, what are we going to tell them?’ Her back was turned towards him, her hands fiddling with the clasp on her purse but he could see the tension in her slim back and shoulders as if she was bracing herself for his answer.

‘We’ll tell them the truth.’

She swung back round to face him, her expression wary. ‘The truth?’

‘That we’re mature adults who are in the process of an amicable separation. Sharing a room for a couple of nights will not be a problem for us.’

Her brows rose. ‘Amicable? Not a problem? Funny, but I don’t see it quite that way.’

‘Think about it, Juliette,’ Joe said. ‘We could go out there and pretend to be back together and then you’d have to allow me to touch you. Otherwise no one is going to buy it. I’d have to hold your hand, slip my arm around your waist, kiss you. You’d have to lie to your best friend. Is that what you want?’

Her small neat chin came up and her grey-blue eyes pulsated with anger. ‘I want this weekend to be over. That’s what I want.’

‘Yeah, well, I want that too.’

Then maybe he could move on with his life.

CHAPTER FOUR

THE WELCOME DRINKS party was on the terrace in front of the infinity pool that overlooked the beach. The area was decorated with lanterns with golden flickering candles inside and honeysuckle and orange blossom scented the evening air. A champagne tower was on a table festooned with ribbons and posies of flowers on each corner. Two waiters dressed in white shirts, black trousers and black bowties were on standby to hand around a delicious-looking array of finger food. A string quartet was playing at one end of the terrace with a backdrop of cascading scarlet bougainvillea. There was a large sandwich board framed by pink and white flowers with a large love heart in the centre with Lucy and Damon’s names written in beautiful calligraphy. Juliette had never seen such a romantic setting and tried not to compare it to her own wedding reception.

There certainly hadn’t been any sandwich boards with love hearts on them.

Celeste Petrakis, the wedding planner, a slim young woman in her early twenties with short spiky black hair, was carrying a tablet in her hand and came dashing over to Juliette and Joe as soon as they came out to the terrace.

‘Oh, my God, I’m so sorry but I think I’ve messed up your booking,’ Celeste said. ‘I only put down one J Allegranza on my list. I don’t know how I got that wrong. I know Damon told me you guys were separated but I must have forgotten. Blame it on my chemo brain or something. I’m so embarrassed I want to die.’ She clamped a hand over her mouth, her big brown eyes going wide as if she was worried she was going to get struck by lightning by a vengeful God. ‘Oops. Didn’t mean that. I’ve spent the last two years trying not to do that. But, seriously, I’m awfully embarrassed all the same.’

Joe stood close to Juliette but didn’t touch her. ‘It’s fine, Celeste. We have no problem sharing a room.’

Juliette forced her lips into the semblance of a smile. ‘Yes, indeed. So please don’t worry, Celeste. You’ve done a brilliant job of organising everything. I’ve never seen such a lovely setting for a wedding. It looks like it’s going to be an amazing weekend for Lucy and Damon.’

Celeste clasped a hand to her heart, her eyes dewy with emotion. ‘Does that mean...? Oh, how romantic! I’m so happy for you both. We’ll have a special toast for you guys later toni—’

‘No.’ Joe’s tone was as blunt as a sledgehammer on a slice of sponge cake. ‘We’re not back together.’

Celeste’s face fell and she bit down on her lip. ‘Oh...sorry, I misunderstood. Do you want me to organise a fold-out bed for you? I mean, you might not want to share—’

‘That would be wonderful, if there’s one available,’ Juliette said, trying to ignore the magnetic heat of Joe’s body within touching distance of hers. If she moved even a fraction of a millimetre her arm would brush against him. It was almost impossible to control the urge to do so.

Touch him. Touch him. Touch him.

The chant was trying to keep up with her racing pulse.

‘I’ll see what I can do,’ Celeste said, glancing between Joe and Juliette as if she couldn’t quite work them out. ‘I can only apologise again for this stuff-up. I would hate for you to be inconvenienced by my mishandling of—’

‘Don’t stress,’ Joe said, moving slightly, his arm brushing against the bare skin of Juliette’s, sending a shivery sensation through her flesh. ‘It’s not a problem.’

Juliette moved half a step away and gave the wedding planner a rictus smile. ‘We don’t want to draw attention away from Lucy and Damon. It’s their special weekend, not ours.’

‘Thank you for being so amazingly good about it.’ Celeste gave them a finger wave and dashed away to greet some other guests coming out to the terrace.

Juliette glanced up at Joe. ‘I need to speak to Lucy. She’ll stress if she thinks I’m not okay about this. It’ll ruin her wedding day for her if she’s worrying about me—’

‘Then pretend to be okay. It’s not that hard.’

She glowered at him. ‘Easy for you to say, Mr Show No Emotion.’

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