Chapter 15


    ‘So we are in agreement?’


    ‘Yes. We are in agreement. I will marry you.’


    It was Christian’s turn to exhale. Who would have thought he would feel relief to hear a woman agree


    to marriage?


    ‘It would be best to marry as soon as we can—before you start showing.’


    ‘I don’t want to arrange anything until I’ve spoken to Ro.’


    The mention of her brother’s name hit him like a blow: the metaphorical elephant in the room spoken


    aloud.


    ‘We will speak to him together.’


    ‘It will be best if I speak to him alone. He’s my brother.’


    ‘And he’s one of my closest friends. He’s not going to be happy about this.’


    ‘I would prefer it if he gave us his blessing but if he refuses...’ She sighed, a troubled expression


    crossing her features.


    ‘We will wait until he returns from his honeymoon,’ Christian decided, although his guts made that


    familiar clenching motion they did whenever he thought of what his friend’s reaction would be.


    Ro would never forgive him.


    He didn’t me him.


    Whatever was thrown his way, he would take. It would be no less than he deserved.


    He remembered the first time he’d met Ro, Stefan and Zayed during his first week at Columbia.


    He’d never left Athens before that, never mind Greece. New York had been a whole new world. He’d


    felt out of his depth on every level, especially whenparing himself to his new friends’ wealth and


    good breeding. He’d had neither and hadn’t been able to understand why they’d epted him as one


    of their own.


    Even now, a decade on when his own wealth rivalled the best in the world, he still struggled to


    understand what they’d seen in him.


    He was Christian Markos, born a gutter rat without a penny to his name. She was Alessandra Mondelli,


    born into one of Italy’s premiere families. She had ss and breeding. She could be a princess.


    In a perfect world she would marry someone from a simr background. Someone worthy of her.


    All the same, they might be from disparate backgrounds but on marriage they hadmon ground:


    rtionships were not for either of them. In that one respect they were perfect for each other. She


    would never need him or require more than he could give.


    And he would never need her.


    Messy,plicated emotions would never infect their marriage.


    CHAPTER FOUR


    ALESSANDRA PRESSED THE button allowing Christian into the building and took deep breaths to


    compose herself.


    It would be the first time she’d seen him in ten days.


    They’d spent a couple of days together in Mn, seeing her doctor then a private obstetrician. Both had


    confirmed that she and the baby were in excellent health. She’d known in her guts everything was well


    but hearing it vocalised had lifted a weight she hadn’t been aware of carrying until it was gone.


    A scan had been taken, a copy of which they had both taken before Christian had left. She’d spent


    hours gazing at that picture, making out the tiny head and limbs, so imperceptible she had to rely on


    memory from where the nurse had pointed. Sometimes, gazing hard, everything inside her would


    constrict, her throat closing so tight that she had to swallow to loosen it. Her beautiful baby. Her and


    Christian’s beautiful baby.


    She hadn’t see him since, all theirmunicationing via daily text messages and phone calls,


    during which he filled her in on all the wedding ns. He wanted a Greek wedding so it made sense for


    him to organise it. She didn’t think she would have been able to handle getting involved anyway. She


    was having a hard enough time coping with the magnitude of what she’d agreed to.


    She’d known Christian since she was twelve and Ro had brought the Brat Pack—as she privately


    called her brother and his little gang of university friends—home for a week-long holiday at the family


    vi. But she didn’t know him.


    He drank bourbon rather than his national drink of ouzo. He was a snazzy dresser. His brain was


    lauded around the world. He waspletely self-made. He liked rock music. He’d slept with a quarter


    of the world’s most beautiful women, the others being shared out between her brother, Stefan and


    Zayed. He was used to getting his own way. And that was it. The rest was a mystery. She was marrying


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