Marriage Of Convenience. Helen Bianchin

panel.

      He stood too close as he chose ‘basement’, and when they reached street level he merely bypassed her command and sent the lift down.

      Her mouth tightened and she cast him a fulminating glare…which had no effect whatsoever.

      ‘Give it up,’ Loukas advised as the lift doors slid open and he indicated the black Aston Martin.

      He waited until they were both seated before engaging the engine. ‘Can I leave the choice of second witness with you?’

      There was only one person she’d consider asking. Lacey Pattison, lifelong friend and trusted confidante who had, ironically, acted as chief bridesmaid at her first wedding. ‘Yes.’

      Was there such a thing as the sound of silence? If so, it seemed to hang heavy in the car’s interior as he negotiated city traffic before easing the car into the kerb adjacent the office tower housing Karsouli.

      ‘You have my cellphone number if you have any concerns.’

      She met his dark gaze with equanimity. ‘Is this where I wish you a safe flight?’

      The edge of his mouth quirked a little. ‘I’ll be in touch Thursday evening.’

      ‘I might be otherwise engaged with a male stripper at a very private “hen” party.’ As if.

      ‘In which case, have fun.’

      That was it? No macho follow-up?

      ‘Not quite.’

      He read minds?

      The next instant he leant forward and took her mouth with his own in a slow evocative kiss that drained the breath from her body…and then some.

      There was no demand, just a sense of intent…his.

      Then he straightened, and his eyes narrowed at her faintly dazed expression, the sudden paleness of her cheeks.

      In one fluid movement she released her seat belt, caught up her bag and slid out from the passenger seat before crossing to the building’s foyer without so much as a backward glance.

      It was only as she rode the lift that she permitted herself to reflect.

      The feel of his mouth on her own lingered, and she pressed light fingers to her lips.

       What was that?

      No matter how she viewed it, there had been nothing to prepare her for the unexpected sensuality evident…or her reaction.

      The unbidden need to deepen the kiss was merely a transitory figment of her imagination, she dismissed as she entered Reception and moved into her office.

      The phone call to Lacey resulted in a barrage of rapid-fire questions, to which only truthful answers would suffice.

      ‘Okay,’ Lacey said with deliberate calm. ‘We’ve covered the who, why, when and where. I’ve done the ohmigod thing. Now it’s down to basics. What are you going to wear?’

      ‘I’m sure there’s something suitable in my wardrobe.’

      ‘We’ll go shopping tomorrow afternoon.’

      ‘Lacey—no.’

      ‘Yes. Double Bay.’ She named a place. ‘I’ll be there at three.’

      ‘I don’t finish until five.’

      ‘You’re the boss. Leave early.’

      ‘You’re impossible.’

      ‘Yes, I know. That’s why I’m your friend. Three, Alesha. Don’t be late. We have a lot of ground to cover in a short time.’

      She opened her mouth to protest, except the faint click indicated Lacey had already hung up.

      The next morning Alesha went into the office early, declined a lunch break and collected Lacey mid-afternoon to shop for the dress.

      ‘Coffee first, double shot of caffeine, double sugar,’ Alesha determined as Lacey indicated one of a few streets in exclusive Double Bay where boutiques offered designer wear with exorbitant price tags.

      ‘Darling, no.’ Lacey gave her a don’t mess with me look Alesha recognized from old. ‘Dress first, coffee later.’

      ‘I need sustenance.’

      ‘Delaying tactics,’ Lacey dismissed. ‘We’re shopping for your wedding dress. Something that cannot be rushed. We need to look.’

      ‘One boutique,’ Alesha stated firmly. ‘I choose, try it on, present plastic, we leave.’

      Lacey’s smile was pure imp dressed in steel. ‘You think?’

      Alesha achieved an expressive eye-roll. ‘I knew inviting you was asking for trouble.’

      ‘Precisely why you displayed some sense,’ came the airy response. ‘Chill,’ her friend commanded as they paused outside a small boutique with one model displayed in the window. ‘Let’s go inspect the merchandise, shall we?’

      She uttered an expressive sigh. ‘I don’t think—’

      ‘You don’t need to think while I’m here to advise and guide.’

      ‘That’s what concerns me.’

      The vendeuse greeted them with refined politeness, whereupon Lacey launched into her verbal spiel.

      ‘White, of course.’

      ‘Ivory,’ Alesha corrected.

      ‘Full-length,’ Lacey insisted.

      ‘Mid-calf.’

      ‘Stunning.’

      She did the eye-roll thing. ‘Simple.’

      ‘Perhaps it would help if you tell me something about the venue, the reception, the number of guests,’ the vendeuse suggested.

      ‘A civil ceremony held in a private home with two witnesses.’

      ‘Ah. I see.’ There was a faint click of the fingers as she accurately appraised Alesha’s slim curves. ‘I think I can offer you something suitable.’

      The design was fine, the colour was not.

      ‘It’s a very pale blush.’

      ‘Thank you, but no.’

      The second boutique had the perfect gown, Chanel…except it only came in black. Alesha considered, only to be firmly outvoted by Lacey. ‘You are not getting married in black.’

      ‘Hey, whose wedding is this, anyway?’

      ‘Yours, and just because it’s not traditional, doesn’t mean we won’t do it right. Agreed?’

      Lacey had a point. ‘Coffee,’ Alesha insisted.

      ‘Soon, promise. Let’s go.’

      ‘Heaven forbid…where? I thought we had a one-stop deal.’

      Lacey took hold of her arm and led the way to the car.

      ‘Get in and drive.’

      ‘It had better be good.’

      Doing it right was achieved in a beautiful little boutique that sold vintage designer gear. Gorgeous gowns in cream, ivory…and Alesha sighed as she caught sight of sheer perfection. A slim-fitting gown in layered ivory and pale champagne silk, accented by a fine pin-tucking edged with narrow lace.

      ‘Delicate strappy sandals with killer heels,’ Lacey advised. ‘Minimum jewellery, just diamond ear-studs. Maybe a bracelet.’

      Alesha removed the gown, handed it to the sales person, endeavoured not to blink at the price, presented