Taken by the Millionaire: Hotly Bedded, Conveniently Wedded. Kate Hardy

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      ‘You want to stay well for the wedding, don’t you?’ Saskia added.

      Marcia scowled. ‘That’s emotional blackmail.’

      ‘But they’re right,’ Anna cut in gently. ‘They’re worried about you, Marcia.’ She smiled. ‘And I’m ten years older than you, so I vote for a rest, too.’

      ‘I give in,’ Marcia said ruefully.

      ‘So are you going to humour Alex about the flame-coloured veil?’ Saskia asked over coffee.

      ‘So he is planning a Roman wedding,’ Isobel said.

      ‘No, no, no, no, no!’ Saskia, looking panicky, crossed her hands rapidly in front of her. ‘But he was going on about it last weekend. You could call his bluff and do it.’

      ‘I’m not sure an orange veil would look right with that dress, love,’ Marcia said.

      ‘But if it was made of crystal organza and you wore it more like a stole—actually, that would look stunning.’ Anna looked thoughtful. ‘Especially if your hair’s up and you wear finger-less elbow-length gloves and your bouquet’s a simple sheaf of lilies. If you choose the material today, I can hem it for you.’

      Isobel spread her hands. ‘Well, as none of you will tell me anything, I’ll just have to let you decide for me.’

      Saskia grinned. ‘And don’t you just hate not being in charge?’

      Isobel scowled. ‘Alex called me a control freak, too.’

      ‘You are,’ Saskia said, laughing. ‘You like everything just so.’

      ‘It’s called doing your research properly.’ Isobel sighed. ‘My colleagues all have invitations to the reception, but he’s sworn them all to secrecy as well. Nobody will even give me a hint. It’s driving me insane.’

      ‘He’s not going to tell you, so there’s no point in stressing about it,’ Saskia told her.

      ‘So you’ve got everything now, apart from the gloves and the veil?’ Marcia asked. ‘Something old, something new, something borrowed and something blue?’

      ‘I’ve got a new dress,’ Isobel said. ‘So that’s one of them.’

      ‘And you can borrow my gold bracelet—the one my parents gave me for my twenty-first,’ Anna said. ‘That takes care of old and borrowed. I’ll bring it to you on your wedding morning.’

      ‘And I’ll deal with the blue,’ Saskia said with a smile. ‘Something tasteful, Bel, I promise.’

      ‘Thank you. You’ve all gone to a lot of trouble over this.’ There was a huge lump in Isobel’s throat.

      ‘That’s because we love you,’ Anna said, hugging her daughter. ‘And we all want you to have the happiness you deserve. With Alex.’

      Alex.

      Her husband-to-be.

      Who was equally convinced that everything would work out just fine.

      She knew Alex was nothing like Gary. And, as Alex had pointed out, they were going into the marriage with their eyes wide open. Practical. Sensible. So why was the fear—the horrible feeling that everything was going to go pear-shaped—still dragging along behind her like a shadow?

      Isobel managed to keep it away for the rest of the afternoon—just—while they went shopping for more shoes and the gloves to match her dress. Their last stop was to choose a length of shimmering flame-coloured crystal organza.

      ‘Don’t tell Alex about this,’ she said. ‘As he’s keeping me in suspense about everything, I want this to be a surprise.’

      ‘We won’t let him see the dress, either,’ Marcia promised.

      ‘Thank you.’

      ‘I’ll take these,’ Anna said, scooping up the bags containing Isobel’s dress, the shoes and the material for the wrap. ‘I’ll be helping you get ready, so I’ll bring them with me—that way Alex won’t see them before the big day.’

      Isobel shivered. ‘Mum, I …’

      ‘Shh.’ Anna kissed her gently. ‘Of course you’ve got butterflies in your stomach. It’s only natural.’

      They weren’t butterflies. They were elephants, doing the cancan.

      ‘But Alex is the right man for you,’ Anna said softly. ‘You love each other, so everything’s going to be fine.’

      Was it?

      Isobel wasn’t so sure—because they didn’t love each other. Not in the way their family seemed to think they did.

      But she forced herself to smile. ‘Thanks, Mum.’

      Over the weekend, Isobel found the perfect wedding present for Alex on the internet—a watch made of black ceramic, with no markers on the dial except for a diamond on the twelve. She discovered there was a stockist for the Swiss manufacturer near the museum, so she dropped in on Monday lunchtime to buy it and have it wrapped. Then she transferred it to a plain bag so if Alex did spot it he wouldn’t have a clue what she’d bought.

      The next few days went by in a blur. And then it was the day before their wedding: her last day at work for over a week. Isobel ate a sandwich at her desk and used the time to try to get ahead of schedule with her work, but at the end of the day, when she’d planned to slip quietly away, Rita banged a spoon against a bottle of sparkling wine and the whole department focused on Isobel.

      ‘You haven’t got a wedding list,’ Rita said, ‘so we were flying a bit blind here, but I hope you like it.’ She handed Isobel a beautifully wrapped box. ‘Happy wedding, from all of us.’

      Isobel carefully unwrapped it, and stared in delight when she opened the box to discover a fused-glass bowl, shading from light azure through to deep cobalt. ‘It’s gorgeous, Rita. Thank you. Thank you all so much.’

      ‘Our pleasure,’ Rita said, speaking on behalf of the department. ‘See you tomorrow night.’ She hugged Isobel. ‘You’ve got a good man, there.’ She lowered her voice. ‘And he’ll be so much better for you than He Who Should Not Be Named. You’ll be happy with Alex. It shows in your face when you look at him—and when he looks at you.’

      If only you knew, Isobel thought, but she smiled. ‘Thanks, Rita.’

      She went back to her flat, carefully protecting her parcel on the tube. Alex was waiting for her and kissed her hello. ‘How was your day?’

      ‘Lovely. Look what everyone in the department gave us as a wedding present.’

      Alex inspected the bowl. ‘That’s gorgeous. I love the colours. And it’ll look great in our new house.’

      Isobel frowned. ‘What new house?’

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