Postcards From…Verses Brides Babies And Billionaires. Rebecca Winters

baby meals for Anna. Fresh fruit, crêpes, pastries and steaming coffee filled the kitchen island.

      Nicole thanked the woman for her thoughtfulness. The food was much better than the simple meals she had learned how to prepare in La Petite. She had never cooked more than toast for herself before moving away from London, having always eaten in trendy restaurants and cafés in order to be ‘seen’. But surprisingly learning to cook and bake had been a secret joy of hers while she was pregnant, along with cleaning and just being self-sufficient.

      Sitting here and seeing that all of her baby’s bottles had been washed and steamed, all of their clothing laundered and pressed… It made her feel strangely redundant. She felt a deep frown settling between her brows and instinctively smoothed it away.

      ‘Nicole, the nannies are here to be interviewed.’ Alberto’s tall, thin frame appeared in the doorway, startling her.

      ‘Nannies?’ Nicole swallowed a mouthful of melon and stood up to face Rigo’s right-hand man. ‘I never arranged for any interviews.’

      ‘Rigo made a shortlist from the most elite agency in Paris.’ He smoothed his shirt absentmindedly, clearly bored with the day’s task.

      ‘I didn’t agree to a nanny,’ Nicole argued. ‘This is something he should have cleared with me first,’ she said quietly.

      ‘I’m just the messenger. Take it up with him if you have a problem,’ he droned.

      She bit her lip and picked up her mobile phone. She would call him and calmly tell him that it was not okay for him to commandeer her life simply because they were going to be married. She took a breath, then paused, suddenly realising she didn’t actually have her fiancé’s phone number.

      Alberto rolled his eyes at her request, pressing a button on his own phone and handing it to her. Nicole avoided the older man’s cynical gaze. He made her feel deeply uncomfortable any time he was around. The memory of him silently escorting her out of this apartment all those months ago had never truly left her.

      She was shaken from her thoughts as Rigo’s deep baritone answered with a curt, ‘Si?’

      ‘Did you arrange for someone to care for my daughter without consulting me first?’

      A shuffling of papers could be heard in the background, along with hushed talking before he spoke to her again. ‘Yes, I arranged for a selection of candidates to arrive this morning. As I’m sure Alberto has already informed you, seeing as you are calling me from his phone.’

      ‘Why would you presume that I need help, Rigo? I’ve cared for her just fine for the past six months of her life—or do you think me incapable?’ She heard the hostility in her voice, but didn’t care.

      Rigo sighed on the other end of the line. ‘Nicole. You will have a handful of events to attend and an entire wedding weekend to get through. I hardly think walking down the aisle with the child strapped to your back will be practical, now, do you?’

      Nicole bit her lip, absorbing his words. She had been so caught up in the storm of changes that she hadn’t even thought of who would care for Anna. She had never needed anyone to watch her daughter before now, having spent all her time at home with her. Perhaps she did need someone trustworthy—just until the wedding was done with…

      ‘I’ll take your silence as an apology,’ Rigo drawled on the other end of the line. ‘Is there anything else you would like to accuse me of this morning, or will that be all?’

      ‘No, that was it,’ she said quickly, her cheeks burning. ‘I’m sorry for presuming that you thought—’

      ‘Don’t worry about it.’ He cut across her, and the sound of voices became louder in the background. ‘I have to go, but make sure you are ready at seven this evening.’

      ‘Ready? For what?’ She frowned.

      ‘We’re going to dinner.’

      With that the call ended, and Nicole looked unbelieving at the device in her hand. He had just demanded she be ready at a certain hour—was that how this arrangement was going to go?

      Alberto coughed pointedly in the doorway and she rolled her eyes. ‘Yes, all right. I’ll be in in a moment.’

      She handed him his phone and breathed a sigh of relief once she was left alone in the kitchen for the first time. Anna sat in her high chair, happily sucking on a piece of buttered toast and watching her intently.

      ‘What on earth have I got us into, baby girl?’ she whispered, brushing a tendril of dark hair behind her daughter’s ear.

      Anna’s answering gurgle was completely incoherent, as expected, and yet it made her smile. She knew that the key to getting through this wedding alive was to focus on her daughter every step of the way and put her own needs last.

      If only her future husband didn’t seem so intent on making everything so difficult.

      ‘Isn’t this a little flamboyant?’ Nicole’s eyes widened as she took in the gilded sign above the restaurant door. ‘We could have spoken in private in the apartment just as easily.’

      ‘The food is good here, and we need to be seen in public.’ He guided her inside, speaking briefly to the hostess and angling them both slightly away from the line of guests at the door.

      It shouldn’t surprise her that a man with Rigo’s taste and reputation would choose to take her to the most exclusive restaurant in Paris. The two-hundred-year-old building was situated right next to the gardens of the Palais Royal and was one of the finest Michelin-starred establishments the city had to offer.

      The hostess ushered them to a private dining room and introduced them to their own personal maître d’ for the evening.

      The restaurant was one of the few in Paris that she had never eaten in before. The waiting list was impossibly long and she’d only ever visited before on short trips. There was no way Rigo could have got in at such short notice, even if he was a billionaire. Unless he’d already had this table reserved for tonight…for dinner with someone else. The thought did strange things to her stomach.

      Biting her lip, she focused on the stunning decor that surrounded them as the waiter laid down their napkins and filled their crystal glasses with iced water. Ornate golden mirrors lined the walls of the dining room and neoclassical frescoes adorned the ceiling along with stucco garlands and roses.

      ‘I’ll admit I’ve become a little jaded by gourmet food of late, but Le Chef Martin is one of the best in Paris.’

      Rigo gestured for Nicole to peruse the menu, and in the end they agreed on a menu plaisir—a bespoke sample menu designed by the chef himself.

      Nicole allowed her glass to be filled with a fragrant golden wine. She was aware of her empty stomach and limited herself to only one small sip, feeling the smooth liquid warm her insides instantly.

      ‘We will be throwing an engagement party in three days.’ His deep voice interrupted her thoughts. ‘The process is going to be very fast and intense, so my PR team will want to brief you about interacting with the press.’

      Nicole gulped. ‘Is there really a need for all this fanfare? It seems to make more sense for an arrangement like this to take place in an office or something.’

      ‘A large wedding is expected in my family. Anything to the contrary would draw suspicion,’ he said, making it clear that the issue was not open for discussion. ‘We will be married at an exclusive secret location on the first of the month.’

      ‘That’s less than three weeks away.’ She felt her fingers tighten on her wine glass. This was all of a sudden becoming so much more than the simple solution she had agreed to.

      ‘Why the frown? You will be the star of your very own fairy tale, Nicole. I had thought you would be