oddly polite and formal. As they accepted the congratulations of their guests, Daisy’s friends also seemed uncomfortable, their eyes sliding away awkwardly even as they pretended to smile.
At the wedding reception, held on the other side of the elegant ballroom, the very best champagne and liquor was served, all from Liontari’s brands. The PR crew gleefully filmed all the glamorous, exotic guests, the wealthy and the beautiful and brightly bohemian, laughing and dancing and eating lobster, pretending to have the time of their lives.
But underneath it, Daisy felt hollow.
Don’t marry him. He’s a liar who killed your father—an innocent man.
The reception seemed to last forever. Leonidas was strangely distant, even though he was right beside her, and after hours of forced smiling, Daisy’s face ached. Finally, the last guest drank the last flute of champagne, left the last gift, and departed. Even Mrs. Berry left, with Sunny in tow, leaving only the bridal couple and the PR team in the ballroom.
“You can go,” Leonidas told them. The PR woman looked back brightly.
“I was thinking, Mr. Niarxos, we could come on your honeymoon, if you like, and get shots of you two kissing and frolicking on the beach—”
Beach? What beach? Daisy frowned. They hadn’t planned a honeymoon. Did the woman imagine them at Coney Island or the Jersey shore? Only if “frolicking” meant shivering to death in the cool March weather!
“That kind of access would be invaluable,” the PR woman chirped. “It would almost certainly go viral—”
“No,” Leonidas said firmly. “No more filming.”
Daisy went almost weak with gratitude as the PR team departed, leaving them alone at last.
Leonidas turned to Daisy.
“Mrs. Niarxos,” he said quietly.
She swallowed. Her heart pounded as her husband pulled her closer. She felt his warmth and strength. She felt so right in her husband’s arms. This marriage was right. It had to be right.
He lifted a dark eyebrow. “Did you know Bain was going to come here?”
She shook her head a little shamefacedly. “I’m sorry.” She bit her lip, her cheeks hot. “I don’t know how he found out about the wedding. I didn’t tell him—”
“It’s all right. I don’t blame the man for wanting you.”
“You—you don’t?”
“Any man would,” Leonidas whispered. Lowering his head, he kissed her tenderly. Then he pulled back with a smile. “Our plane is waiting.”
“Plane?”
Leonidas took a deep breath. “I told you, if you agreed to marry me, I would hold nothing back. I’m a man of my word.”
Marry me. And I’ll hold nothing back. I will give you everything. When he’d said the words to her, she’d hoped he meant his heart. “So that means a honeymoon?”
He mumbled something. Frowning, she peered up at him.
“What?”
He lifted his head. “I’m taking you to Greece. To the island where I was born.” He gave her a crooked smile. “Mrs. Berry has already packed your suitcase.”
“What about Sunny?”
Leonidas smiled. “Mrs. Berry has promised to give her the same love she gives her own Yorkies at home.”
It was strange not to have Sunny with her, as they left ten minutes later for an overnight flight. After all the drama of the last few days leading up to their wedding, once they were settled on the private jet, Daisy felt her exhaustion. She promptly fell asleep in her husband’s arms and did not wake again until an hour before they landed on the small Greek island in the Aegean.
As they came down the steps from their private jet to the tarmac, Daisy looked around, blinking in the bright Greek sun. A burst of heat hit her skin.
It was already summer on this island. She was glad she’d taken a shower on the plane and dressed for the weather, in a white sundress and sandals. Her hair was freshly brushed and long, flowing over her bare shoulders. Even Leonidas was dressed casually—at least, casually for him—in a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, top buttons undone, over black trousers.
To her surprise, no driver came to the small airport to collect them; instead, a vintage convertible was parked near their hangar, left by one of his staff members.
“Get in,” Leonidas said with a lazy smile, as he tossed their suitcases in the back. He drove them away from the tiny airport, along the cliffside road.
Daisy’s hair flew in the warm breeze of the convertible, as she looked around a seaside Greek village. She’d never seen anything so lovely as the picturesque white buildings, many covered with pink flowers and blue rooftops, with the turquoise sea and white sand