The Greek's Bridal Bargain

By the time Bryony arrived at the studio on Monday, Pauline LeFray, her teaching partner, had already finished her warm-up stretches.

Pauline wiped her hands on a small towel, her brow furrowing at the look on her partner’s beautiful face.

‘What’s going on?’

Bryony slipped off her wraparound skirt and reached for the barre, easing herself into her pre-teaching routine.

‘It would take me a decade to tell you,’ she said, stretching her calves.

Pauline glanced at the clock on the wall. ‘We’ve got ten minutes until the five-year-olds arrive. Want to quickly summarise?’

Bryony eased her hamstrings into action as she met her friend’s interested gaze. ‘I’m getting married.’

‘Married?’ Pauline gasped.

Bryony lifted her right leg to the barre and bent her head to her knee, staring at the wooden floorboards below as she spoke. ‘Married as in wedlock, matrimony…’ Jail, she added silently.

‘This is a bit sudden, isn’t it?’ Pauline asked. ‘I mean…I didn’t know you were even seeing anyone. Have you been seeing someone?’

Bryony changed legs and repeated the exercise, again staring at the floor. ‘No.’

Pauline’s frown deepened. ‘You’re not making a whole lot of sense, Bry. You haven’t had a date in years and now you tell me you’re getting married. Call me thick if you like, but how does that work? You’re not doing some crazy mail-order or Internet hook-up thing, are you?’

I wish, Bryony thought. Better to marry a perfect stranger than someone you couldn’t bear to look at because…

‘It’s nothing like that,’ she answered as she straightened. ‘I know it’s sudden but he’s someone from my…past and we just hit it off, so to speak.’

‘Hit it off?’

Bryony gave her a false smile and hoped it would pass for pre-wedded joy. ‘He’s tall, dark and handsome and disgustingly rich.’

‘Rich?’ Pauline stared at her. ‘You don’t do rich, remember? The last guy you dated, what was it…three years ago, didn’t even have a job!’

‘I’ve changed my mind.’

‘Hello?’ Pauline waved her arms in the air at her. ‘It’s me—Pauline. You can’t seriously expect me to believe you are attracted to a guy because of the size of his wallet.’

‘OK, so it’s not his wallet I’m attracted to.’ Bryony avoided her friend’s eyes in the wall-to-wall mirror as she stretched her arms.

‘Now you’ve got me even more worried. What else did this guy show you apart from his wallet? Don’t tell me you’ve finally done the deed?’

Bryony felt a trickle of warmth leak into her belly at the thought of Kane’s body possessing hers and in spite of the air-conditioning of the studio her whole body grew hot.

‘Have you?’ Pauline probed when she didn’t answer.

Bryony turned around and reached for her towel. ‘Not yet.’

‘Not yet? What do you mean, not yet? If you’re going to marry him, don’t you think you should check out if everything’s in good working order?’

‘I’m perfectly healthy and—’

‘Not you, dummy.’ Pauline rolled her eyes. ‘Him. He might be a complete dud for all you know. Would you buy a car without taking it for a run first? It’s the same with men. Take it from someone who knows about these things. If he’s not good in bed the relationship is dead.’

Bryony considered telling her the truth about her relationship with Kane but decided against it at the last minute. It was too complicated to explain, even to a close friend. It was better to let Pauline think it was a match made in heaven rather than reveal the true hell of her situation.

‘We’ve only just become engaged,’ she said instead. ‘It’s all happened so fast but I’m sure we’ll…er…get around to it.’

‘Yeah, well see that you do,’ Pauline advised as the outer door opened and ten little girls traipsed in dressed in tiny tutus and ballet slippers.

Bryony plastered a welcoming smile on her face as she faced the girls and hoped that by the end of the afternoon Pauline wouldn’t return to the topic of her sex life.

She didn’t have a sex life and, marriage or no marriage, she wasn’t going to have one if she could help it.

It was three days until Kane contacted her.

She knew it was him even before she picked up the receiver on her bedroom extension.

‘Hello, Bryony.’

‘Who is it?’ she asked, pretending not to recognise that unmistakable deep velvety voice.

‘You know who it is.’

‘How am I supposed to know who it is if you don’t identify yourself? Didn’t your mother ever tell you it’s polite to announce your identity when you call someone?’

‘My mother taught me many things,’ he said, ‘and I intend to act on all of them.’

She wasn’t sure she wanted him to elucidate on just exactly what he meant so she changed the subject.

‘Why did you call?’

‘I think it’s time we went out on a date.’

‘A date?’ She frowned. ‘Save yourself the time and bother, Kane. You don’t need to wine and dine me; you’ve paid for me already, remember?’

‘As you wish.’

She knew it was inconsistent of her to be disappointed by his ready agreement but she just was.

‘I guess we can discuss the wedding arrangements just as easily over the telephone as we can over a dinner table somewhere,’ he continued. ‘I’ve decided we’ll have the ceremony conducted at Mercyfields overlooking the lake.’

Her hand around the receiver tightened until her knuckles went completely white.

‘Your mother will appreciate you being married at your home,’ he added when she didn’t speak.

‘It’s no longer my home,’ she pointed out somewhat sourly. ‘It’s yours.’

‘It will belong to both of us. Your parents’ things will be moved out while we’re on our honeymoon.’