Then Luc was leading her into the private room on the second floor, and all her attention was captured by the lady lying in the bed. Her eyes widened with shock. Signora Di Maggi looked nothing like the strapping woman she had met two months ago. How could someone change so much in so short a time? she wondered, forcing herself to smile as she crossed to the bedside.
'Hello, Signora Di Maggi. What have you been doing?' And, bending down, she pressed her lips to the lined cheek, the skin like dry parchment beneath her lips.
The old lady smiled, her dark eyes so like her son's, but full of moisture. 'Parisa. It is lovely you are here, and to be married. I am so happy...'
Luc stood at the opposite side of the bed, his whole attention centred on the occupant, a smile of such warmth and love on his face that Parisa had to stifle a gasp of amazement. 'You must not talk too much, Mamma, and no excitement. Doctor's orders.' And, leaning over the bed, he kissed the top of her white head, while gathering her slender hands in his massive ones. He sat on the side of the bed, and for a few moments mother and son simply looked at each other.
Parisa felt like an intruder, and silently she sat down on the chair beside the bed, staring at her hands entwined on her lap. She felt a swift stab of guilt as the huge ring on her finger glittered with a brilliant light. Before, when she had thought it was simple costume jewellery, it had not bothered her, but now she was constantly aware of it. She had no doubt that what Luc had said was true. It was a rare and costly diamond. She must have been blind not to notice the true value. If she had been thinking logically at the time of the party', she would have realised that Luc might produce a fake fiancée to fool his family, but he would never have insulted their intelligence by producing a fake ring. But what of a fake marriage? It wasn't right, what she and Luc were doing to his mother. She gnawed at her bottom lip, frowning. The old lady deserved the truth.
Half an hour later when they got up to leave, Parisa did not need a doctor to tell her the visit had done Signora Di Maggi good. She was smiling and obviously content.
Luc walked around the bed and flung a casual arm around Parisa's shoulder. She tensed, but did not pull away, in deference to the old lady's feelings. And when, with an aside to his mother, Luc turned Parisa into his arms, bent his dark head, his mouth covering hers in a deep, gentle kiss, she almost imagined he meant it, her body melting against his as his mastery of her senses overcame her logical mind. It was a flushed and very worried girl who finally walked out of the hospital, with Luc retaining a firm grip on her hand.
He stopped beside the waiting car, and, opening the rear door, he finally let go of her hand. 'Sorry I can't accompany you, but the chauffeur will see you safely home. I will send the car for you on Thursday morning, but I'll call you before then with the details.'
'Luc, I'm not sure...' The deep unease she felt about their deal had increased a hundredfold. How much her agreement had had to do with the amount of champagne she had drunk the previous evening she was beginning to question, but Luc never gave her a chance. She was bundled into the car before she could finish her sentence.
'It's too late to change your mind, Parisa.'
Luc, resplendent in an immaculate light grey silk suit and white shirt, and a silk tie in conservative tones of grey and maroon, looked exactly what he was: a mature, sophisticated man of the world.
Parisa, on the other hand, felt like a naive teenager in comparison. It was stupid, she knew, it made good business sense. She should not be intimidated; after all, it was only a civil ceremony, easily cast aside. So why were her legs trembling?
Dressed in a pale cream suit, a touch of a peach camisole peeping between the lapels of the fitted jacket, the skirt short and straight, ending on her knees, her feet encased in matching high-heeled pumps, and her hands clasping a small clutch-bag with an exquisite posy of tiny peach rosebuds and baby breath pinned to the front, Parisa listened to the registrar, but didn't take anything in. It was only when Didi gave her elbow a nudge that she surfaced from her daze long enough to say, 'I do.' She looked with sightless eyes at the gold band Luc slid on her finger. But when he turned and gathered her into his arms, all her senses went on red alert.
'My wife,' he murmured just before his lips covered hers in a brief, hard kiss.
'You look beautiful, Miss Parisa,' Didi remarked as they stood in the powder-room at the Ritz, having just finished a celebratory wedding breakfast. 'You will be happy, child, trust your old nanny I had a long talk to Luc the other day, before you arrived, and he does love you very much. He gave me back the red garter belt you had left in Italy.' The old eyes twinkled, as Parisa blushed scarlet. 'Now, don't you worry none. There are plenty of young women jumped the gun a bit, I understand.' She chuckled. 'I knew over the past months you had been pining for someone, and once I met Luc I knew why. But now everything will be perfect.'
No wonder Didi had been so keen to see her married, Parisa thought; she probably imagined Parisa was already pregnant. Luc had taken charge. He had called the house yesterday, spoken briefly to Parisa, but longer to Didi. Parisa had been rushed into Brighton by Didi, and suitable outfits purchased.
Parisa sighed inwardly. How could she disillusion the old lady? Didi and her husband, Joe, had been the witnesses at the wedding ceremony, the only guests. In fact they had been instrumental in her decision to accept Luc's proposal. The couple had looked after her all her life, and they were entitled to some monetary security in their old age. It had worried her for ages how she was going to provide for them. Now, the problem was solved. If nothing else good came out of the next two weeks, the peace of mind that knowing the two people she cared for most in the world were looked after was more than enough. She left the powder-room arm in arm with Didi.
'Parisa.' Luc's dark gaze lingered on her lovely face as he approached her; his large hands curved possessively around her shoulder. 'I think everything went off very well, don't you, cara?
She tilted her head to look up at him, and the gleam of mocking triumph in his black eyes sent a shiver down her spine. 'Yes,' she said curtly, and, following the older couple out of the hotel to the waiting taxi and limousine, she chewed her lip nervously. Just what had that look meant?
It was with a sigh of relief that she finally waved goodbye to the taxi carrying Didi and Joe back to Hardcourt Manor and turned towards the chauffeured limousine waiting at the kerb. Luc took her arm and helped her into the car, sliding his large body in beside her.
'Alone at last,' he drawled and, catching her left hand in his, he twirled the plain gold ring on her finger. 'I never thought I would ever put a gold ring on any woman's finger.' His hard mouth curved in a cynical smile. 'Diamonds, maybe, but this...' And in a totally unexpected gesture he lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed the wedding band.
Her heart gave a curious lurch, her blue eyes clashed with black, and the glittering intensity of his gaze shot sparks of sensual awareness careering through her body. She pulled her hand free, and tore her eyes from his. She opened her handbag and withdrew the engagement ring she had thought a fake, and put it on her finger. Somehow the sight of the huge diamond reminded her of the true reason for this marriage and she was not going to forget it. Show!
'Have I told you yet how beautiful you look? The perfect bride, with just the right amount of innocent reluctance.' He moved his long legs, his thigh brushing hers apparently unconsciously. 'I am a fortunate man to have won such a perfect wife,' Luc opined, but the underlying anger in his tone was not lost on Parisa. Luc had never wanted to marry...
Your business partner,' she said pointedly and put a foot of space between them, before adding, 'Isn't it time we were at the hospital?' She held the posy of roses in front of her like a shield. 'I think your mother will like these.' She was determined to keep her distance from Luc. Cool, calm and collected for two weeks, she vowed over and over in her head.
It was a short drive across London to the hospital, and, when they finally reached Signora De Maggi's private room, to Parisa's eyes his mother looked even frailer than two days ago. She gently handed the old woman the posy and thought it was almost worth marrying Luc just to see the happiness—and yes, relief— reflected in her tired dark eyes.
'I'm so happy for you both.' Her eyes filled with tears. 'Now I know Luc has someone, I can rest easy.'
'Don't say that, Mamma,' Luc admonished huskily. 'You will be fine, and then we will have a grand party in Italy,' he joked, and spent the next few minutes making her laugh.
But when the nurse came and ordered them to leave, as Signora Di Maggi was to be prepared for surgery, the smile was wiped from Luc's face in a second.
The waiting-room was a miserable place, the walls a stark white, the furniture comfortable armchairs and a low table, and Parisa could almost feel sorry for Luc. He sat down and she sat opposite him.
He glanced across at her, his eyes as cold as the arctic waste. He slid a large hand into his breast pocket and withdrew a long envelope, throwing it on the table between them. 'You'd better read that and then sign it. I think you will find it is all in order.'