‘No, Dad. It’s…’ She hesitated a moment, aware that her father wouldnotbe at all pleased but knowing she had to get this over with, like ripping off a plaster. ‘It’s Theo Leonidas. Remember, from next door?’ she said, as though they hadn’t had a screaming match over her parents’ insistence that she break up with him. As though that awful, awful night wasn’t etched in both their hearts.
‘Leonidas?’ he said, his voice no longer just weary, but worried, too. ‘No, Annie. I told you, that boy is—’
‘He’s not a boy, Dad. He’s a man, and he’s the man I’ve chosen to marry. I need you to accept that, and be happy for me.’ Her voice cracked a little, as a tear slid down her cheek, thudding against the carpet.
‘I can’t do that. He’s wrong for you, all wrong.’
Her heart splintered. If only she could be honest with him—but that would hurt him more. She had to convince her father that she was happy and safe. Which was ironic, because that was also part of what Theo had insisted on. They were to fool her father into believing the marriage was real, and joyous. For Theo’s part, he hoped that would wound Elliot Langley, and Annie knew it would. But there was still a part of her that hoped her father might find it within himself to have a normal parental reaction: happiness for the choice of his child. After all, she had been through enough in her life to know that she was making the right decision, given the cards she’d been dealt.
‘You don’t know him.’
‘I know him,’ her father contradicted swiftly. ‘He is the last person your mother or I want in your life. Please, don’t do this.’
She closed her eyes on a wave of frustration.
‘We dealt with this,’ her father pushed. ‘You broke up. You’ve dated other nice men. Men who are far more suitable for you.’
Yes, she’d broken up with Theo, but not without a fight. She had argued with them, she had fought for them to understand, to give him a chance, but then, her mother had suffered the first of a series of heart attacks, and what choice had Annie had?
But now the circumstances were different. She was fighting for their financial standing, and for the family company her father cherished—one of the few things he had left from the tatters of their family.
‘We’re going to get married quickly, Daddy. I was thinking a garden wedding, at home, something simple,’ she said, then realised Theo had said it needed to be public. ‘Though we’ve also talked about a hotel, in the city. The details don’t matter. But we want to be together, for the rest of our lives.’ The words stuck in her throat a little, because of how desperately she’d felt them, six years earlier. ‘And we want that to start right away.’
‘Oh, Annie. I cannot support this.’
‘Whether you support it or not, it’s happening.’
‘But, Annie. Who is this man? You know nothing about his family, and you are—’
‘I know, I know. You’ve told me how you feel about him, but that doesn’t change anything.’
‘I can’t accept this.’
‘I’m sorry to hurt you,’ she whispered, with honesty. ‘But it’s just how it has to be.’
‘Are you sure?’
Annie almost laughed in despair. Was she sure? Sure that this could backfire spectacularly, yes. Sure about anything else…debatable.
‘I’m getting married, and I want you to be happy for me.’
‘I will never be able to give you that,’ was all he said, in reply, before disconnecting the call.
She’d extended her stay by a couple of nights in accordance with a handwritten note that had been dropped off with the prenuptial agreement, stating that Theo would pick her up for dinner the following night at eight o’clock. On the afternoon of their appointed ‘date’, or rather, the beginning of her ‘sentence’, as she’d started to think of it, a bag from a designer boutique was brought up by the hotel concierge, with another note in Theo’s darkly confident handwriting.
‘For tonight.’
She’d pulled the dress from the bag once back in her hotel room, and marvelled at the elegant simplicity of it. She had bought and worn enough expensive dresses in her life to know the brand was one of the most exclusive in the world. She couldn’t resist trying it on, and the moment she glanced at her reflection in the mirror, she was very, very tempted to wear it. It transformed her into a sophisticated, elegant heiress—just the kind of woman everyone expected her to be. Everyone except Theo, she might have said, if this wasn’t evidence to the contrary.
She slipped the dress off again before she could weaken, stuffing it back in the bag before choosing something far simpler from her wardrobe—a black cocktail dress that fell to just above her knees and hugged her body like a second skin. She styled her hair in a braid that ran like a crown around her head, and kept her make-up minimalistic. For jewelry, she chose only her mother’s earrings—pearls, which reminded her so much of Elizabeth Langley it couldn’t help but bring Annie a shot of strength to wear them.
Her door buzzed at eight o’clock—on the dot—and Annie’s stomach suddenly burst to life with butterflies and a dragon’s fiery flames. She was hot and cold as she crossed the far more modest hotel room to the door, and wrenched it inwards to find Theo on the other side, in yet another suit, though this time, withthe sleeves down, jacket on, and custom shoes, no doubt, firmly in place.
He took one look at her and flattened his lips in a line of disapproval. Hardly a compliment, yet she dipped her head to hide a grin.
‘You didn’t like the dress?’
‘I didn’t need the dress,’ she corrected, glancing up at him when she was confident her face once again bore a mask of casual non-concern.