LITMIR.BIZ

      The terraced roof of the hotel had been transformed. An abundance of balloons and beautiful flowers covered the entire perimeter, the Parthenon clear in the distance, but close enough that from certain aspects it felt as if you could reach out and touch it.

      The day had turned into something magical.

      All Alessandra could think was how much work and effort Christian had put into making this a special day for them. Sure, he’d outsourced it all, but he’d been the one to do the outsourcing.

      All she’d done was buy her dress. And lingerie…

      Crying in her brother’s arms had had the effect of clearing her head.

      Rocco had urged her to abandon the whole thing. He and Olivia would take care of her.

      Alessandra didn’t need taking care of—her baby did. Christian was her baby’s father. They belonged in each other’s lives.

      She’d washed her face and reapplied her make-up and then, when she’d looked back in the mirror, the truth had been reflected back at her in startling clarity.

      She was committing her life to Christian and their baby. It was time to embrace it for all their sakes.

      Done with taking pictures of her husband and their guests—it truly was a photographer’s dream here—she put her camera back into its case and sat back down at the top table.

      Staring at him now—holding court with Zayed, Stefan and Stefan’s date, Clio, on the edge of the dance floor—her heart clenched, packing into a tight little ball.

      Christian must have felt her gaze upon him for he met her eyes, raising his glass of champagne to her.

      She raised her lemonade back, her skin dancing as if his gaze had physically touched her.

      He said something to his friends which made them all laugh. It pained her that Rocco refused to join them, keeping his distance in the far corner of the room with Olivia and an earnest A-list Hollywood superstar. Her brother had spelled out in no uncertain terms that he was there to do his duty and nothing else.

      Her suspicions about Christian’s trip to New York had been correct—he had gone there with an ulterior motive. But her fears had been wildly off the mark. He hadn’t gone to meet up with a secret woman. He’d gone in an attempt to make her brother see sense and attend their wedding.

      He’d turned up at their New York home and told her brother in no uncertain terms that Alessandra needed him. When he’d left, Olivia had taken up the cause, essentially bullying Rocco into attending.

      Knowing Christian had done that for her…è stato incredibile.

      She only wished Rocco would see what an amazing thing it was too. To her knowledge, he hadn’t exchanged a word with Christian all day.

      Whatever his reasons, and however great his reluctance, she was glad he’d come. More than glad. She hoped with all her heart that one day he would come to accept them and accept that their marriage was the right thing for all of them. He might infuriate her but he was her brother and she loved him.

      Christian weaved his way through the dancing guests and took his seat at the top table beside her. ‘How are you feeling?’ he asked, leaning back into his chair.

      ‘Perfetto.’ She smiled. ‘This has all been amazing, grazie mille.’

      He slung an arm around the back of her chair. ‘It is my pleasure.’

      The sound of rotor blades in full motion caught their attention.

      ‘Paparazzi,’ he spat, getting back to his feet and kicking his chair back. Immediately he pulled his phone from his pocket and dialled a number, speaking into it with a low voice packed full of menace.

      ‘I had arranged that no helicopter fly within a mile of the hotel today,’ he explained tightly when he finished his call, his face taut. ‘I will not have our wedding day turned into a circus.’

      She shrugged. ‘They’re tenacious. It was to be expected.’

      ‘They’re like locusts.’ He laid his palms on the table, his face stark with anger.

      Not wanting all the good feeling ruined, she raised a hand to his face and palmed his cheek. ‘Thank you.’

      The blue in his eyes darkened, his frame stilling. ‘For what?’

      ‘For trying to keep them away from me.’

      His nostrils flared a touch. He didn’t answer, simply stared at her as if trying to peer into her mind.

      She gazed back, drinking him in, the heat inside her—so constant when with him—bubbling beneath her…

      And then he dipped his head and covered her mouth with his, holding it there, not moving, just breathing into her, warm champagne-scented air filling her senses until he gently slid his mouth across her cheek and brushed his lips against her ear. ‘Soon, agapi mou, I will do more than just kiss you.’

      Her insides melted. Her heart racing at a gallop, she was about to grab his hand and beg him to whisk her away to somewhere private when Zayed joined them, announcing his presence by slapping Christian hard on the back.

      ‘Come on, newlyweds, it is time for the Kalamatianos,’ he said, referring to the traditional wedding dance adored by all Greeks. Over his shoulder, Mikolaj and Tanya grinned and waved, already tapping their feet in anticipation.

      She was so glad she’d gone behind his back and invited them. It hadn’t sat well with her, knowing he would have no one from his childhood there. Knowing Christian was happy she had done so lightened her further.

      It made her feel all warm and fuzzy inside, thinking they had gone behind each other’s back to bring someone important to their big day.

      Soon she was on her feet with Christian in the centre of the dance floor, each holding an end of a scarf that had been thrust at them. With traditional Greek music playing, Zayed and Stefan chivvied everyone up to form a circle around them, the guests linking hands and, following Mikolaj and the other Greek guests’ example, swirling around them like a circling snake, shouts of, ‘Opa!’ ringing out.

      Alessandra had the time of her life. When the Kalamatianos was over, everyone,

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