The Society Wife by India Grey Page B

self-mockery. This was the man who went to parties by helicopter and sent five carat diamonds by post. But he doesn’t love me, whispered an unpleasant, persistent little voice in her head. That’s the flaw in the kidnapper’s plan. The baby and I are a problem, an inconvenience, and if I were to disappear…
    The car stopped. Lily jumped, her eyes widening with alarm as she saw that they were in a narrow street squeezed between very high, very old buildings. Beside the car there was an archway, its mouth yawning blackly in the gloom. Her pulse went into overdrive. The taciturn chauffeur got out, his footsteps ringing on the stone flags, echoing off the tall walls around them, keeping time with the hammering of Lily’s heart as she sat, bolt upright and trembling, in the back of the car. A moment later he opened the door and stood back.
    Lily gave a little gasp of terror as she glimpsed a man standing in the shadows of the archway. Instinct told her to get out of the car, that she might still have a chance to run for it, and she stumbled to her feet just as he stepped forward into the dying grey afternoon. He was tall, lean, powerfully built, but even in the gloom there was no mistaking the sharp angles of his cheekbones, the sensual mouth.
    â€˜Tristan!’
    The breath seemed to catch in her throat, so that the word came out as a strangled croak, and suddenly she was in his arms, burying her face in the hardness of his chest as reliefflooded her. He smelled clean and warm and she breathed in the scent, waiting for the wild crashing of her heart to steady. It didn’t.
    From deep in the pit of her stomach she felt bolts of heat shoot along her nerve endings as his hands closed over her shoulders, firm and powerful.
    â€˜What an unexpectedly enthusiastic welcome,’ he drawled with quiet mockery. ‘Do I take it you’ve reconsidered your decision about the nature of our marriage?’
    â€˜No!’ she exclaimed, blushing hotly as she stepped away from him, folding her cashmere wrap tightly around her and hugging herself to stop the trembling that racked her body. ‘I’m just glad that it’s you and not some cold-blooded kidnapper with a gun and a ransom demand.’ Suddenly the fear of a moment ago felt suddenly silly and childish. ‘I didn’t know where we were going, and your driver wasn’t very forthcoming.’
    â€˜Dimitri’s Russian. He doesn’t speak any English, or much Spanish.’ Tristan turned to him and spoke briefly in rapid, flawless Russian, which brought a flicker of a smile to Dimitri’s lugubrious features. ‘He’ll take care of your bags. We go on foot from here.’
    Lily had to almost run to keep up with his long, rapid stride.
    â€˜Where are we going?’
    â€˜To church.’
    â€˜Church? The church where we’re getting married?’
    â€˜Of course.’
    A shiver rippled down her spine, excitement mixed with apprehension as the reality of what they were doing edged a little closer. They were walking along a narrow street, just a passageway between ancient buildings, and Tristan was walking slightly ahead of her, his hands thrust deep into the pockets of his black jacket, his collar turned up, demons at his back.
    Just looking at him made Lily’s legs feel weak.
    Another stone archway blocked out the remains of the light for a moment, and then suddenly they were in an open spaceagain, a small square hemmed in on all sides by a jumble of ancient buildings, all crammed together as if supporting each other. In the centre stood a hexagonal fountain, and trees stretched their branches up to the pewter sky.
    â€˜Oh!’ Lily stopped, looking around. Apart from a couple drinking coffee at one of the tables of the bar of the hotel in one corner, the square was empty. The only sound was the gentle trickle of water from the fountain, the soft crooning of pigeons. It was like stepping through a