Taken by the Millionaire: Hotly Bedded, Conveniently Wedded

Enlightenment dawned when they reached the entrance to the old Roman baths. ‘I don’t believe he managed to organise this.’

‘They’re open to the public during the day, so the only time you can get married here is half past eight in the morning,’ Saskia explained. ‘Which is how come you had to be up at the crack of dawn.’

‘I … Oh, Lord.’ Isobel was lost for words.

‘Smile,’ Saskia directed, ‘or my brother will scalp me.’

‘We could’ve walked here, but Alex wanted to string it out to the last possible second,’ Marcia said. She laughed. ‘You know my son. He always takes things further than anyone else.’

‘You can say that again,’ Isobel said fervently.

The torches around the great pool were lit and the steam was rising. The water was pure aqua—the same colour as the bowl her colleagues had bought them. And that, Isobel thought, was probably no coincidence.

And then she saw Alex.

She’d known he was teasing her when he’d threatened to wear his battered Akubra or a toga. But she really hadn’t expected this. He was wearing a morning suit: a black tailcoat and pinstriped trousers with a white wing-collar shirt and a gold waistcoat. And his cravat matched her stole exactly. The rest of the wedding party were dressed in similar style, and they all had a lily as their buttonhole.

For a moment, she could believe that she and Alex really were getting married for love. He looked absolutely stunning and, when he walked towards her, smiling, her heart felt as if it had done a weird kind of flip.

‘That dress is perfect. Simple and classic and letting your beauty shine through. The gloves are pretty sexy, too. You look amazing,’ he said softly.

‘You look pretty stunning yourself.’

He smiled. ‘Note—no toga, and no hat.’

She indicated her stole. ‘And I’ve got the flame-coloured veil you asked for. Sort of.’

He laughed. ‘I like it. And I like your hair up like that.’ He leaned forward and whispered, ‘And I’m really looking forward to taking it down later tonight.’

A shiver of pure desire rippled through her. ‘Later.’ She glanced round at the registrar and their family, sitting there with such love and such joy on their faces.

And Alex had been the one to make this all happen.

‘Thank you, Alex, for doing this. It’s just …’ She could feel tears welling up.

He looked alarmed. ‘Don’t cry, Bel.’

‘They’re happy tears,’ she hastened to reassure him.

‘Even so.’ He took her hand, raised it to his mouth and kissed it. ‘Let’s go and get married.’

‘I can’t believe we’re getting married on a two-thousand-year-old warm pavement.’

He smiled. ‘I told you it was going to be different.’

‘It’s perfect, Alex.’

She walked with him over to the table where the registrar was sitting; Alex held her hand very, very tightly as the registrar welcomed them all.

‘I declare I know of no legal reason why I, Alexander Tobias Richardson, may not be joined in marriage to Isobel Anna Martin,’ Alex said at the registrar’s prompting.

She repeated his declaration.

Then he turned to her. Held both hands. Looked her straight in the eye. ‘I, Alexander, take you, Isobel, to be my lawful wedded wife.’

She swallowed hard. ‘I, Isobel, take you, Alexander, to be my lawful wedded husband.’

Then Saskia came to the front, carrying Flora, who was holding a basket containing the wedding rings.

Alex took the smaller one and slid it onto her finger. ‘With my heart, I pledge to you all that I am. With this ring I marry you and join my life to yours.’

And even though he didn’t mention love in his vows, she knew he meant what he said.

Just as she meant it when she took the other ring and slid it onto his ring finger. ‘With my heart, I pledge to you all that I am. With this ring I marry you and join my life to yours.’

She barely heard the registrar’s speech; the only thing that she could focus on was Alex’s wide smile when the registrar said, ‘You may kiss the bride.’

He did.

When they’d signed the register, it was time for photographs. Then they went back to the hotel, where there were more photographs in the garden and Alex’s nephews took great delight in throwing rose petals over them—and then brunch, which Alex had arranged in a private dining room.

‘So where are the speeches?’ Polly asked.

‘We’re not doing any. We’re together, we’re married, we’re happy. End of story.’ Alex gestured to his nephews, who were busily playing with the train set he’d had put in the room earlier. ‘And the kids won’t want to sit through long speeches.’

‘They won’t mind. They’re quite happy playing, thanks to their genius uncle,’ Helen said.

Alex laughed. ‘I can remember sitting through weddings at their age and being bored out of my mind. I thought they’d like something a bit more interesting to do.’

‘They love it,’ Poppy confirmed.

‘Come on. Don’t cheat us,’ Helen wheedled. ‘Speech.’

‘No need.’ Alex gave her his most charming smile. ‘As I said. We’re together, we’re married, we’re happy. Everyone knows how we met—and everyone knows everything about both of us. So there’s nothing more to say.’

‘Actually, as the father of the bride, I’d like to say something,’ Stuart said diffidently. ‘I found this lovely blessing on the internet. I’m sorry it’s not Roman—it’s Apache—but I thought the words were lovely.’

‘Go on, Dad,’ Isobel said.

Stuart stood up, took a piece of paper from the inside pocket of his jacket, and unfolded it. With a tender look at Isobel, he said:

‘May the sun bring you new happiness by day;

May the moon softly restore you by night;

May the rain wash away your worries

And the breeze blow new strength into your being,