He was already looking at his reflection in my mirror and straightening his tie. He had no care for my plans but still felt required to take an interest and ask.
I glanced down at my dresser drawer. The letter, which I'd been putting off for a while, burned a hole in my conscience.
"I'll probably meet up with Marina to see if she needs any help with the gala tonight. Maybe some shopping," I lied.
He nodded, even though I knew he hadn't really absorbed my words. "Very good. See you tonight."
He placed a gentle kiss to my head before turning on his heel and leaving.
Chapter 2
Millie
Ikept a firm hand on my husband's arm as he guided me through the entrance to the grand ballroom. Tonight's gala was a fundraiser for an animal charity, held at a gallery space overlooking Trafalgar Square.
Soft classical music greeted us from a live chamber orchestra tucked in the corner, and discreet waitstaff weaved in and out with trays of champagne and hors d’oeuvres.
Polite chatter and laughter filled the large space as members of England's high society mingled. Some formed small groups to gossip and discuss business, while others moved slowly around the room, observing and discussing the renowned paintings on the walls. At two thousand a head, it was a must-do event for socialites and aristocrats with inherited titles that held little significance in today's current climate.
Not that I considered myself any different or better than anyone else in attendance. I was, after all, the daughter ofan Earl who had the good foresight to add to his fortune by accumulating a portfolio of hotels.
I was like any other woman in this room—the daughter of a rich, titled man who then became just another socialite wife. I played the part well, a part I had been trained in my whole life. I knew nearly everyone's name and their line of business. I greeted the women—wives, girlfriends, and mistresses—with warm smiles and practised air kisses, promising to catch up later in the night. Men stopped my husband to shake his hand or slap his shoulder, their boisterous laughter and fake flattery easy to see through.
The majority of people here tonight viewed this event as another opportunity to network—my husband included. The charity itself was just an afterthought. A tax relief. A chance to look good, throw money at the problem, and perhaps win a cheap holiday to the south of France through the silent auction.
"You look ravishing."
Alessio's accented, deep voice poured over me like steam on a cold day. Pink painted my cheeks as I rubbed my hand against the smooth material of his suit.
"You wash up pretty well yourself," I teased.
That was an understatement. Even though nearly every man in the room wore a tux, it somehow looked more ravishing on my handsome husband. The black moulded to him so effortlessly and beautifully; the white of his shirt brought out his warm brown eyes.
I matched him in a daring black halterneck tie dress with a precariously low neckline. It had a dropped waist and a ruched skirt that fit me like a second skin. I felt utterly decadent, especially when my husband stared at me as if I were his favourite dessert.
"I cannot wait to tear this off you later." Brown fingers played with the tie at my neck, and I felt the hot stamp of desire tease low in my belly.
"Behave yourself," I admonished. But I was secretly thrilled that Alessio found me irresistible in a crowd full of esteemed guests.
He bent low, and his mouth brushed my ear, causing delighted butterflies to slide down my stomach.
"Never," he murmured. He pressed a soft kiss against my ear before he pulled back.
"I need to make the rounds, then we can leave."
"But there's the silent auction—"
"You know I hate these things. Besides, I already wrote a cheque."
Yes, for fifteen thousand. I'd called and swiftly amended it to fifty. We could afford it, and I doubt he would miss the money. He probably thought it had been spent on shoes and jewellery.
"I want to stay," I argued. I'd organised the grand prize at the host's request and wanted to see who would win. A week's stay at one of my husband's exclusive hotels of their choice, with a butler and meals prepared by a top Michelin chef. It was a coveted prize since our penthouse suites went for over two grand a night.
"We'll see," he countered as his attention roamed around the room. "I see Philip Townsend; he's been trying to tie me down for a talk for weeks. I'll have a drink with him to get him off my back. Will you be okay?"
"Yes." My reply was automatic. Even if I'd said no, Alessio would simply pat me on the head, lead me to a group of women, and then take off to talk business.
"Save me later," he joked before squeezing my hand and taking off in the direction of a small group of important-looking men. My eyes lingered on Alessio's tall frame and firm sexy behindbefore I gave a dreamy sigh and floated off to do my own networking.
