Home > The Billionaire Bridegroom(39)

The Billionaire Bridegroom(39)
Author: Emma Darcy

‘You really are finished with her, Nic?’

He looked startled that she could think otherwise. ‘No way in the world would I ever get back with Justine Knox.’ He frowned at her possible uncertainty. ‘You can’t believe I would?’

She grimaced. ‘I don’t want to.’

‘Then don’t. You’re the only woman I want.’ A wicked smile broke across his face as he reached out and scooped her into his embrace. ‘If you need more convincing…’

The only woman I want…music to her ears, a joyful beat through her heart. She linked her hands around his neck, suddenly yearning to hold on to him forever, though she couldn’t help thinking they would be torn asunder sooner or later.

‘You know Justine won’t be the only one to say such things about me, Nic. You’ll be answering to this kind of prejudice for as long as you have me with you. It’s about who you are and who I’m not, and nothing you can say or do will really change that.’

‘You’re wrong, Serena.’ His eyes burned with the belief in his own power to beat any criticism of their relationship. ‘I promise you, any controversy about our pairing will fade very quickly.’

‘You can’t dominate people’s minds…alter ingrained attitudes.’

He stroked her cheek, smiling with a kind of whimsical indulgence as though she were a child he was instructing. ‘You see the power of wealth, Serena, but you don’t understand it. Not from the inside as I do. If my family accepts you, believe me, everyone else will be only too happy to acknowledge you and treat you with enormous respect.’

She shook her head, thinking his family’s acceptance a highly unlikely eventuality. ‘I don’t see how that could happen.’

He kissed her doubting eyes closed, kissed the end of her nose, kissed the fear from her mouth, then murmured with passionate confidence, ‘Trust me. I have the perfect plan.’

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

‘WOW, little sister!’ Michelle exclaimed with a huge sigh of feeling as they finally reached the luxurious bedroom suite assigned to them. ‘The Morettis certainly throw everything into celebrating a family wedding. This has been totally, totally overwhelming!’

Serena laughed. Over the past few months, she had gradually become used to the Italian effusiveness in Nic’s family, the hugging, the kissing, the generous gift-giving, and she had learnt to gracefully accept the unbelievable extravagance in the planning for this wedding—hers and Nic’s. However, she well understood Michelle’s reaction to the culmination of all these plans.

Outside, in the grounds of the Moretti compound on the Sydney Harbour shoreline, was a fabulous white marquee, festooned with flowers and thousands of fairy lights, filled with people in dazzling evening wear, the best French champagne flowing from an endless store, gourmet food being constantly offered and served, a variety of live bands providing music for dancing and singing. It was an event, the like of which neither of them had ever experienced before, let alone played star roles in it.

‘Did I get through it okay?’ Michelle asked a trifle anxiously.

‘You were great,’ Serena warmly assured her sister. ‘The perfect matron of honour.’

Michelle grinned. ‘Well, I’d have to say you’re the most spectacular bride I’ve ever seen.’

Serena grinned back. ‘I could see Nic’s mother adored all this elaborate beading and lace. She just beamed with pleasure when I chose it.’

‘It’s pure fairy-tale princess stuff. And it’s obvious Nic’s mum adores you, too.’

‘God knows why, but she seemed delighted to welcome me into the family right from the start. Nic’s dad, too.’

‘Well, they might be filthy rich, but they are nice people,’ Michelle declared. ‘Now let’s get you out of your bridal gear and into your going away outfit.’

This was a frivolous little dress in shell pink silk chiffon, shoe-string shoulder straps, frills around the bodice, frills around the hem of the skirt. After the exquisite, form-fitting formality of the ceremonial bridal gown, it was a relief to simply slide into a dress that skimmed her figure and felt frothy and feminine. Relaxing.

‘Don’t forget you still have to throw your bouquet,’ Michelle reminded her.

‘I’ll throw it to you,’ Serena promised, hoping her older sister would marry Gavin who seemed to share many interests with her. He was here at the wedding with his daughter, who thought it was excellent that Erin, her best friend, was the flower girl at the ceremony.

‘No need.’ Michelle’s eyes sparkled above suddenly pink cheeks. ‘Gavin proposed to me tonight. I said yes.’

‘Oh, that’s marvellous!’ Serena threw her arms around her sister and hugged hard. ‘I hope you’ll both be very happy together.’

Michelle hugged back. ‘You, too, with Nic.’

Emotion welled between them.

‘Maybe we’ve reached our journey’s end, Michelle.’

‘You mean since Mum and Dad died.’

‘And David.’

‘Do you feel you really belong with Nic, Serena?’

‘Yes, I do.’

‘Gavin gives me that feeling, too. Like finally filling what’s been missing in my life…coming home.’

So much had been missing that Nic had filled, Serena thought as they returned to the marquee. He made her feel protected, provided for, looked after, understood. He was like a rock of absolute and enduring stability, unshakable in bestowing his love and loyalty and support. She’d given him her trust and the reward of that act of faith was still awesome to her. Even his formidable family had welcomed her into their midst without so much as a raised eyebrow.

She smiled as she glanced over at his parents, thinking how lucky she was to have met their son. Beside them were Angelina and Ward, with Cleo on a white satin leash, Nic having insisted the dog be here since the little terrier had been a prime mover in their relationship. And was much beloved by his sister.

They all caught her smile and smiled back. There had not once been any criticism of her from any of these people, no patronising, no hint of condescension. She was sure in her own mind that Nic had made this happen for her. He’d spoken of the power of wealth, and its buying power was all around her, but in her heart, she couldn’t believe he could buy her this level of genuine approval.

Having completed the last bridal act of throwing her bouquet, she headed straight for him and he left the group of guests he’d been chatting to, moving to meet her, his dark eyes locking onto hers, and what she felt coming from him was the power of love, not wealth.

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