75
“And what do you think?”
“That love marriages are, historically speaking, a recent thing.” She reached for her mascara. “History is littered with successful marriages built without love.”Content © copyrighted by NôvelDrama.Org.
And she’d spent an hour searching her phone for examples of them while waiting for Nicholas to collect her.
“I bet those successful marriages had great sex at their core.”
“But only with each other.” She held his gaze a moment longer before applying her mascara, trying her hardest to keep her hand steady so she didn’t poke herself in the eye at the lie she’d just uttered. Most of the successful non-love marriages she’d read about had only been successful because both spouses had either turned a blind eye to other lovers or explicitly agreed to them. She knew there was no way she could tolerate or accept infidelity-just the thought of Nicholas in the arms of another woman made her stomach churn violently-and had searched even harder for the faithful marriages. But those had brought no comfort either. They had been successful because the couples had fallen in love with each other.
Nicholas heard the unspoken warning and put his hands on her shoulders to drop a kiss into her hair. “Then I am ahead of you on this one,” he said silkily. “While you wear this, there will be only you.”
She twisted to face him. He dug into his back pocket and pulled out a black velvet box. He flicked the lid open and held it out to her. “Your engagement ring.”
She stared at it for the longest time. He wondered if she was waiting for him to drop to one knee. That, of course, would be ludicrous. Strangely, when he’d found the ring-and he’d scoured every jewelry shop before finding his gaze drawn to this one-he’d examined it closely with an unbidden fantasy playing out in his mind. In that fantasy he’d dropped to one knee. In that fantasy, Caroline had cupped her cheeks in delight then thrown her arms around him. In that fantasy, she’d said she loved him.
He’d pulled himself out of the fantasy with his guts twisting. They twisted now to remember it. It had to be fatherhood causing this unseemly senti-mentality. Nicholas’ love for his son was like a garden of drab weeds suddenly filled with beautifully scented colorful flowers. It was not unreasonable to suppose his subconscious would try to extend that love to the mother of his son.
“Are you going to try it on?” he asked when she made no move to touch the ring.
She plucked it from the box and slid it on her wedding finger. Then she got to her feet and held it out to him. “It’s perfect.”
For a moment he was too taken with the whole effect to respond. Wearing a short black sequined wrap-around dress that hugged her curves and exposed just the right amount of cleavage, she glittered; an exotic shimmering mirage. She must have sprayed something in her hair too, for under the ceiling light, it glimmered too.
At that moment, all he could think was that she was perfect.
__________
The driver stopped outside a typical building; whitewashed Cycladic style, set along a narrow cobbled street but which differed from the other bustling streets they’d driven through by the sheer number of people queuing like overdressed bunches of grapes for admission.
Inside, the feel and vibe of the place were exactly what she expected. Bodies packed like sardines, drinks in hand, swaying under multi-coloured strobe lights to the pumping beat. A nightclub was not somewhere you went for conversation. It was a place you went to dance the night away to the best DJs in the world.
The VIP section of the club was reached by a set of wide stairs that formed a semi-circle around the main dance floor. More bouncers guarded the entrance to it. One unhooked the red tasseled rope barrier and nodded a respectful greeting as they slipped past them. The inner sanctum was far less crowded than the ground floor and she recognised some of the faces in it even if she didn’t know them personally. They all seemed to know her, though, or of her, and as she sipped champagne, flashed her engagement ring at anyone who asked, and had shouted conversation with one of Nicholas’ cousins, she relaxed.
“What are you thinking?” he asked, speaking into her ear to be heard.
She smiled and rose up on her toes to plant a kiss to his mouth. That was something he often asked. If he didn’t care for her, why would he want to know? As the night went on and the partying got more raucous and Nicholas stayed glued to her side, she found herself asking the same questions-if Nicholas really only wanted to marry her for their son’s sake, why did he care so much about what she thought? Why had he gone out of his way to choose the perfect engagement ring for her?
“Let’s get some air,” she shouted after the midnight hour had struck.
Hands clasped, they headed out to the huge VIP terrace. Avoiding the smoking section, they settled on a secluded sweetheart seat and let the sea breeze cool their skin. Outside, the noise levels were far more favorable for conversation but Caroline was content to listen to the laughter from the revelers on the ground floor beach terrace and the snatched chatter of others partying on their own.
Fingers playing absently with the buttons of his shirt, she only realized she’d undone one and had slipped her hand under it to encircle a nipple when he huskily said, “What are you doing?”
“Touching you.” She tilted her head to stare into his eyes. “Do you want me to stop?”
His eyes gleamed. “No.”
“Good.” She stretched her leg and then casually hooked it over his lap. A large hand rested on her thigh, right at the hem that had ruched up to skim her bottom. Caroline leaned into him and pressed her face into his neck. “You smell amazing.”
Moving her hand from his nipple, she pulled it out from beneath his shirt and slowly trailed her fingers down his stomach to his belt. When her fingers gently traced over the length of his erection, straining beneath the confines of his chinos, Nicholas tightened the grip on his glass of bourbon. There was something incredibly seductive about her touch and the way she kept nuzzling her nose into his neck, arousing him despite the revelers spilling out in all directions.