A Breathless Bride (15 page)

He had ensured that what he needed most, he would lose.

Sixteen

W
hen The Atraeus Group’s private jet landed in Sydney it was after eight in the evening and it was raining. After the heat of Medinos, the chill was close to wintry.

Numbly, Sienna refused a ride with Constantine. “I can take a taxi. All I need to do is pick up my car from my mother’s house, then I’m driving back to my apartment.”

Constantine’s expression was grim as he skimmed the airport lounge. “I’ll drop you at Pier Point. She’ll be expecting it. But if you’re not coming home with me—”

“I am not staying with you.”

He cupped her elbow and steered her around a baggage cart. “Then stay out at Pier Point.” He released her before she could shake free.

Sienna’s stomach tightened at the brief, tingling heat of his hold. “If that’s an order—”

He massaged the muscles at his nape, the first sign of frustration he’d shown since he had boarded the jet. Up until that moment, he had been frustratingly cool and remote.

“It’s not an order, it’s a…suggestion.” He nodded his head in the direction of the press waiting in the arrival’s lounge. Almost immediately the cameras started whirring and the questions started. “And that’s why.”

Thirty minutes of tense silence later, Constantine parked his Audi in her mother’s driveway. He carried her luggage and the briefcase in, then stayed to talk with her mother and Carla for a few minutes. His gaze captured hers while he listened to her mother’s stilted congratulations and for a moment she saw past the remote mask he’d maintained to a raw throb of emotion that made her heart pound.

Just before he left, he handed her an envelope. She checked the contents and saw the child custody agreement Vitalis had drawn up torn in two. When she glanced up, Constantine was already gone.

When the sound of the Audi receded, her mother fixed her with a steely glare. “Don’t you dare sacrifice yourself for the business, or for us.”

Her fingers shaking, she shoved the agreement and the envelope into her purse. “Don’t worry, I’m not. If you don’t mind, I need a cup of tea.” Despite the comfortable flight, the fact that she had faked sleeping meant she had barely eaten or had anything to drink.

Carla frowned and motioned her onto one of the kitchen stools at the counter. “Sit. Talk. I’ll make the tea.”

Sienna sat and, in between sips of hot tea, concentrated on giving a factual account without the emotional highs and lows. When she’d finished, her mother set a sandwich down in front of her and insisted that she eat.

“To think, I used to like that boy.”

Boy?
Sienna almost choked on the sandwich. Constantine was six feet four inches of testosterone-laden muscle who could quite possibly have made her pregnant.
Boy
was the last descriptive she would have used.

Margaret Ambrosi lifted an elegant brow. “So did you agree to marry Constantine to save the business?”

“No.” She took a bite of the sandwich, forcing it past the tightness in her throat. It was a fact that she wouldn’t have agreed to marriage if she didn’t love Constantine. “It’s complicated.”

“You’re in love with him. Have been for years.”

Sienna’s cheeks burned. “Just whose side are you on?”

“Yours. Marry him or don’t marry him, but stop worrying about us. If Ambrosi Pearls and this house have to go, so be it, it’s your decision. You know Ambrosi Pearls was never my passion.”

Sienna stared at the rest of her sandwich, her appetite gone. Constantine had hurt her, deeply enough that she had done nothing but consider refusing to go through with the marriage. After the long, silent flight, and the glimpse of raw loss she had seen in Constantine’s gaze, she was almost certain that he would let her go. An ache rose up in her at the thought.

Her mother, with her usual clarity, had cut to the chase. They could survive without Atraeus money. When it came to the crunch, the only question was could she survive without Constantine?

She had told him point-blank on the ride out to Pier Point that she needed time to think things through. He hadn’t liked it, but he had accepted her need for space.

That, and the fact that he had surrendered unconditionally on the child custody agreement, constituted progress. She didn’t know how long it would take her to heal, but those two things at least signaled a painful step forward.

Her decision settled into place as she slowly sipped her tea. She could go ahead with the marriage for one simple reason: as hurt as she was she couldn’t contemplate not having Constantine in her life.

* * *

Two weeks later, the morning of the wedding in Medinos was balmy and relentlessly clear. Although, judging by the pandemonium that had broken out in the last half hour, with cousins, aunts and the hairdresser and makeup team descending en masse, it sounded more like a street riot than a wedding in progress.

Margaret Ambrosi had insisted that if she was getting married in Medinos they needed a house for her to be married from, so Constantine had arranged for a private villa to be made available. It was an old-fashioned idea, but Sienna hadn’t minded. The extra fuss and bother had at least taken her mind off the risk she was taking.

Her mother, in combination with Tomas, had pulled all the elements of the wedding together with formidable efficiency, ruthlessly calling in favors to get everything done on time and using Constantine’s name to smooth the way. They had organized the dress, the flowers, live music and a church choir, plus a full-scale reception at the
castello.

Carla poked her head around the door and handed her an envelope. “This arrived for you. Thirty minutes to go. How are you feeling?”

Sienna’s heart thumped in her chest as she took the envelope and checked her wristwatch. “Great.”

Skittish and unhappy, because she had barely seen him after their stilted conversation the day after arriving in Sydney, when she had agreed to go through with the wedding. When she had, they had never been alone. She was beginning to believe that the loss she had glimpsed in his eyes had been another mirage.

The limousine was booked for eleven; it was ten-thirty. So far everything had gone without a hitch. Her hair and makeup were done, her jewelry was on and her nails had finally dried.

Her dress was an elegant, sleeveless gown with a scoop neck, simply cut but made of layers of floaty white chiffon that swirled around her ankles as she walked. The petal-soft fabric was a perfect match for the pearl and diamond necklace and earrings her great-aunt had given her as a wedding gift. They were rare, original Ambrosi Pearls pieces.

When Carla shut the door behind her Sienna studied the envelope, her heart thumping hard in her chest when she recognized Constantine’s handwriting. When she ripped the envelope open, she found all three copies of the marriage deal she’d signed along with a scribbled note. Constantine hadn’t activated the deal or filed any of the paperwork. No shares had changed hands. Ambrosi Pearls was still registered as belonging to her family. The water rights were also enclosed.

In short, he had frozen the entire deal. With the paperwork in her hands she was free to destroy it all if she pleased. To all intents and purposes, it was as if there had never been a deal.

Her legs feeling distinctly wobbly, she sat on the edge of the bed. Constantine had chosen to walk away from exacting any kind of reparations for her father’s scam. He now risked financial disaster with his new resort development. She should feel relieved, but all she could think about was, did this mean the wedding was off?

There was a second knock at the door. Carla again, this time with a telephone in one hand. “It’s de Vries.”

Not Northcliffe as she had expected but Hammond de Vries himself, the CEO of the large European retail conglomerate. The conversation was crisp and to the point. They had reconsidered, and now wanted to place the order. The sum he offered was staggering. After a short conversation, Sienna hung up and set the phone down just as her mother stepped into the room.

In a lavender suit her mother looked elegant but frazzled. “Sienna—”

The door was pushed wide. Constantine, darkly handsome in a morning suit, stepped past Margaret Ambrosi. “If you’ll excuse me, Mrs. Ambrosi, I need to speak to Sienna. Alone.”

There was a startled exclamation when Constantine ushered her mother out of the door. “Five minutes,” he said smoothly.

Sienna rose to her feet, her heart pounding, because Constantine was dressed for the wedding and because she suddenly knew, beyond doubt, the only fact she needed to know. “I turned de Vries down,” she said calmly. “I know you’re behind the offer, and I know why you made it.”

His gaze was wary. “How did you know it was me?”

“Hammond de Vries doesn’t normally call us. One of his buyers does. Besides, they’ve had my number for months. It was too much of a coincidence that he called today with an offer that would cover the loan. Plus…” She let out a breath. “I happen to know that The Atraeus Group recently bought a percentage of de Vries.”

Constantine leaned against the door, his gaze narrowed. “Who told you?”

“An industry contact.”

“That would be your mother.”

“Who just happened to have a conversation with Tomas—”

His mouth twitched. “—who is putty in her hands.”

“Most people are. So…the game’s up. You gave me an out. Or…” She was suddenly afraid to be so ridiculously, luminously happy. “Did you want the out?”

He pushed away from the door, his hands settled at her waist. “By now you have to know what I want. Marriage. But this time it has to be your choice, not just mine.”

Sienna wound her arms around Constantine’s neck and met his kiss halfway. Long seconds later, he loosened his hold and reached into his pocket. “Just one more thing.”

Emotion shimmered through her as he went down on one knee and opened a small, black velvet box. He extracted the ring, a princess-cut white diamond that glowed with an intense, pure fire. “Sienna Ambrosi, will you marry me and be my love?”

Her throat closed on a raw throb, her eyes misted. “Yes.”

Constantine slid the ring onto the third finger of her left hand.

“You do love me.” Giddy delight spread through her as he rose to his feet and pulled her close. She wound her arms around his neck and held on tight.

He rested his forehead against hers. “I’ve loved you since the first time I saw you. I can still remember the moment.”

“Before the shoe incident?”

“About five seconds before my clumsy attempt at Prince Charming.” His mouth curved in a slow smile. “I just had some growing up to do. Make that a lot of growing up.”

He bent his head and touched his mouth to hers, and for long seconds she seemed to float. Although the moments of dizziness she had begun to experience in the mornings had an entirely different source.

When he lifted his head and she could breathe again, he ran his hands down her back, molding her against him. The touch was reassuring. She was vulnerable, but so was he; it had just taken him longer to know it.

There was a sharp rap. Margaret Ambrosi’s head popped around the side of the door. She wanted to know what was going on, and she wanted to know now.

“It’s all right, Mom. The wedding’s on.”

“Oh, good. I’ll inform the limousine driver. I’m sure he’ll be delighted, since he’s waiting out front.”

The door snapped closed, Constantine kissed her again.

Another sharp rap on the door had Sienna pinning on her veil and reaching for her bouquet. She glanced at Constantine, who was showing no signs of moving.

He twined his fingers with hers and gave her another sweet kiss, this time through the veil.

She pushed at his chest. “You need to leave. We’ll be late.”

“I’m not leaving,” he said simply. He tugged her toward the door, a smile in his eyes.

“This time we go together.”

* * * * *

ISBN: 9781459226012

Copyright © 2012 by Fiona Gillibrand

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