The groom, looking formidable and handsome, was wearing silver grey with a single white rose in his lapel. The best man was Clint, who was wearing ash grey. The mother and sister of the groom wore ruby red and were seated stiffly in the front row, their eyes trained in front of them. Reporters swarmed outside with only a select few allowed to come inside the sanctuary. Members of the Elite Club—the club where Thomas, as well as generations of the male members of his family, had been members of—were out in full force with their wives. The ceremony tying the two together was brief and after a perfunctory kiss they were declared to be man and wife. The reception was held at Hoffman’s Palace, a hotel that had been acquired by the company only last year and had been given a five-star rating only a few months ago.
The couple cut the cake and sat at the table to eat the sumptuous food before making their way onto the dance floor for their first dance as husband and wife.
“If you continue to hold me at arm’s length, people are going to start noticing,” Donna said dryly as she looked at him. He looked so cold and unapproachable that she wondered if she would ever be able to make a dent in his reserves.
His green eyes met hers and he pulled her closer to him. “How is this?” he asked her sardonically.
“Much better.” She deliberately ran her fingers against the nape of his neck. He stiffened at her touch, his eyes smoldering.
“What the hell are you doing?” he hissed.
“Touching my husband, of course,” she told him mildly, playing with hairs at the nape of his neck. “You have such nice hair. What kind of shampoo do you use?”
“What?” He blinked at her, unable to believe that she'd just asked him that.
“The kind of shampoo—”
“I heard you the first time,” he told her tightly. “Do you think that's an appropriate conversation to be having right now?”
“What kind should we be having?” She tilted her head sideways to look at him. “Want to talk about sex?”
“No,” he bit out, his fingers digging into her back.
“Work? The economy? The President? I understand that you funded his campaign—or rather your father did. What was he thinking?”
Thomas’ mouth quirked into an amused smile, one that he couldn't stop. “Obviously, he wasn’t.”
Donna nodded. “My thoughts exactly.” She stroked the back of his neck absently, unaware of the slow fire she was starting inside him. “What do you think of his policies?”
“What?”
“The tweets and the inappropriate comments he likes to make? His policies on illegal immigrants—”
“We are not discussing politics at our wedding,” he told her mildly, his look openly amused.
“So what shall we talk about?”
“In half an hour the plane will be taking us to Ricci Island.”
Her eyes widened and her lips curved into a wide smile, showing her dimples. He blinked at the transformation and for a moment he was thrown.
“You did it!” she said in delight. “How long will we be there?”
“Until after Christmas,” he said brusquely, suddenly feeling the urge to get far away from her. He shouldn't have agreed to ‘honeymoon’ to one of the most romantic places on earth, but he'd felt he owed her. He'd told Francesco that they would be staying in separate suites and his friend had asked him if he was sure. “I've seen her picture in the papers, my friend, and she is quite stunning.”
Mercifully, the song ended, and he released her into the arms of Clint.
“You're looking exceptionally lovely, Donna,” he said courteously as he guided her around the floor.
Donna looked at him quizzically. “Is that your way of saying that I clean up nice?”
He looked embarrassed for a moment and she laughed. “Relax Clint, I think that you're the only one who's been nice to me so far.”
“I'm afraid that you aren't going to think that of me when I show you the papers you'll have to sign.”
Donna shrugged. “I don’t need his money.”
He looked at her curiously. “I kind of get that. May I ask why not?”
“I have enough to live off of. How much money can one person need?”
“You'd be surprised,” Clint said dryly. “There will be a generous settlement for you when this is over.”
“Who says it will be over?”
“Ah,” Clint looked at her quizzically. “So not the money but something else?”
“Maybe and not a word to Thomas about what you think you know.”
“I don’t know anything.” He smiled curiously. “I think old man Hoffman knew exactly what he was doing.”
“Let’s hope so.”
*****
“You're very clever, aren’t you?” Talia’s scathing voice stopped her as she stepped out of the penthouse suite that had been assigned to her and Thomas to change and get ready for their trip.
“I like to think so,” she said as she stopped to look at her sister-in-law. The girl and her mother had studiously avoided her the entire time, barely managing to come over and welcome her into the family, the gesture obviously forced and made because of their guests. Donna had come up to change into a pale blue cashmere dress that had been part of the trousseau that had been ordered for her by Thomas’ assistant. She'd also put on the white cashmere jacket, loving the feel of the material on her skin. Soft black leather boots completed the ensemble. “But I'm sure you aren't complimenting my intellect.”
“You got my brother to agree to a honeymoon?”
“As a matter of fact, I did.” She clapped a hand to her cheek. “Oh, I'm sorry! Did you want to come with us? Is that the issue here?”
The girl’s eyes blazed as she stared at the woman in front of her. Talia disliked her but at the same time she was a little afraid of her because she realized that the girl wasn't afraid of anything or anyone. “You think you're going to worm your way into his affections?”
“Well let’s see about that, shall we? Now, if you'll excuse me, I think the jet is waiting for us. I'll see you in a week or so. Who knows?” she said with a sly smile. “Maybe I can use my wiles on my husband and persuade him to stay for two weeks.” With a jaunty wave she turned and almost collided into the solid chest of the man they'd just been talking about. His arms shot out to steady her, his green eyes inscrutable as he looked from her to his sister, who was seething with anger.
“Everything okay?”
“Yes. Talia and I were just discussing our honeymoon. Are you ready?”
He nodded, his thoughtful gaze on her before he looked over at his sister. “The car is waiting, and the driver has the bags. Please give me a few minutes with Talia.”
“Of course.”
He waited until Donna was out of ear shot. “You're going to have to get along with her,” he told her mildly.
“She's rude and disgusting,” Talia said, her eyes blazing. “How can you stand to be with her?”
“You're overreacting,” Thomas said coolly, his eyes raking her face. “And you know why I had to do this. Get over it and find a way to get along with her.”