One Stolen Kiss (29 page)

* * * *

Christie’s father was at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for her as she finally descended.

“
You look spectacular…” he greeted her, and had to blow his nose. “Damn. I’ve been through four handkerchiefs already…”

“
Me too,” she admitted, and welcomed his hug.

She knew she could use his support right now. Her stomach was a raging tornado of butterflies. She had no idea if her nerves would allow her to get through the doors, never mind down the aisle.

“There’s a limo outside, to take us across to the chapel,” he said at last, after he had given her a final squeeze of reassurance. “The girls too. Are you ready? Your fiancé has already texted me twice to check that you are okay. And good Lord – you should see the hat that your Maman is wearing…”

It took a moment to sink in that he was referring to Adrik with the word ‘fiancé’. She took her father’s arm, and allowed him to lead her outside.

This is happening now…

Real or not – it looked like she and Adrik were going to go through with it…

* * * *

“
Who invited him?” Christie heard Olga mutter, as their limo drew up at the restored chapel, on the far side of the chateau’s estate.

She leaned over. A crowd was being abruptly hustled inside the building while they made their final approach, except for three figures who stood respectfully a short distance away from the front doors.

It was her worst fear incarnate.

Derek Goldman was here. And he was flanked by two of Adrik’s questionable uncles.

Her heart plummeted.

I’m about to be accused of being a jewel thief
, Christie thought in horror.
And Derek is going to profit from it…

“
There’s no way I’m getting out of this car,” Olga announced. “Not with that tosser standing there.”

Christie reached for her hand and clasped it.

“Me neither,” she said, and they shared a look of mutual agony. Olga was as white as a sheet, and her shaking hand was clammy. “Don’t worry, Olga. I brought handy wipes for you.”

The supermodel squeezed her hand tighter, until Christie thought her knuckles might burst through the skin.

“Last-minute nerves,” said her father, oblivious to their pain. “We’re good. We’re all good.”

Another figure approached the car as it stopped, in a charcoal suit and black leather gloves. The door was opened for them, and the figure leaned down slightly.

“Excuse me, ladies,” Doug’s driver greeted Christie and Olga, and he winked. “There’s a gentleman here who would like to apologise to you both before the ceremony.”

The pair stared at one another again. Audrey and Millie were already being helped out of the other side of the car.

“What the…?” Olga whispered.

Christie could feel her sanity and strength slowly returning, recognising her chauffeur from the long, doomed trip to East Hampton and back.

“I think we’ll see what he’s got to say,” she said at last, bravely. “Dad – give us one minute.”

The driver offered his arm to help Olga and then Christie from the car. Hand in hand, the two exchanged another look – this time of support – and walked the few steps to see what their nemesis wanted, with the driver following them a step or two behind.

At second glance, Christie had to admit to herself that Derek looked anything but smug at this precise moment. Subdued, was the word she would have chosen.

“
Olga…” he began, and coughed, glancing nervously either side of him. “Miss Rose, I mean… I just want to offer my humble apologies for being so uncouth and ungentlemanly at Miss Harding’s party. I should have taken what you said on your word rather than put you in the unavoidable place of explaining the situation in front of strange company. What I said to you – and implied about you in public was unforgivable. I should have apologised immediately. I am deeply, truly sorry for any embarrassment caused, and I promise to retract anything similar that may have reached the media in all forms.”

“
Oh.” Olga seemed to relax a little. “Well – I haven’t had nearly enough Blue Mimosa to punch your lights out, so I’ll just say, thank you, Mr Goldman. Apology accepted. No thanks – I don’t think I’ll shake hands. You look a bit too sticky for my liking.”

Christie heard the chauffeur suppress a chortle behind them. Derek glanced either side of him again, as if for a prompt, and his shoulders sagged a little further in defeat.

“Miss Harding…” he said, and it was now Christie’s turn to tense. “I… we only met for the first time two days ago…”

Either he was sticking to his story about the amnesia, or it was the truth – but Christie didn’t like to hazard a guess either way. Whichever it was, he was visibly squirming now.

“…But I apologise for the scene this awkward situation created at your engagement party,” he continued. “And for any misunderstandings that followed. Again, I will retract anything similar that reaches the media, in all forms. I may also have overstepped the mark by offering you my PR services afterwards. I am – unbelievably sorry, Christie. Miss Harding, I mean.”

She nodded. Olga’s hand was no longer clammy in hers, and the girl’s colour seemed to have returned to normal. Christie wondered if she now looked the same herself.

“Apology accepted,” she said, in a calm voice – although she did love the idea of punching his lights out.

“
Thank you,” he murmured. He looked as though he wanted to run away – as soon as possible.

“
I think we’re done here,” Doug’s driver interrupted, and they turned. “There’s a wedding taking place here today. Mr Goldman – I’ll be taking you back to the airport now. Miss Harding – congratulations. Miss Rose – it was a pleasure.”

Both girls watched as Derek was escorted to an awaiting black car with tinted windows. Once the Russians had seen him in and closed the rear door, they straightened their ties, and headed briskly inside the chapel to join the others.

Doug’s chauffeur rolled down his window and waved to them, before the car departed, smoothly cruising away back down the lane.

“
He seemed nice,” Olga mused.

“
Hmm,” Christie agreed. “I’m just trying to remember if he wore gloves the last time I saw him.”

“
Who is he?”

“
That’s one of my drivers,” said a voice, and Olga turned to see the very trim figure of Doug appearing gallantly at her side, from out of the chapel porch. “He’s an absolute star. I’m Doug. Aka,
DwG
.”

“
I know who you are,” she said, coyly. “Olga Rose.”

He beamed, and offered her his arm.

“Shall we?”

Olga accepted with a smile, and they turned towards the chapel.

“Told you!” Millie hissed over her shoulder at her mother, following on the arm of the film producer they had met at the fashion show.

“
Ssshhh!” Audrey hissed back, escorted by the film producer’s male partner.

Roksana brought up the rear of the procession of bridesmaids, her arm linked with that of Paolo Tamarkin, who only had eyes for her.

“Looks like you’re up.”

Christie looked at her father, and sensed that he was bursting with pride. Her eyes misted over, as she reached for his arm to guide her.

This is it
, she realised.
Whatever it is…

* * * *

There was music, but she couldn’t hear it.

There were the guests – all good friends now, and all smiling. They barely registered.

There was her Maman, underneath some amazing feat of – hat – but the details were a blur.

All Christie could be sure about in her head was the first thing she had looked to check properly. It was who would be standing by the altar.

She saw the black tux and the white tux, parallel to one another. The white tux turned to look first, grinned a gold-toothed grin, and Lucas nudged his companion, prompting Adrik to peek behind him.

Adrik had been standing with his hands clasped in front of him, but as he turned his head and caught sight of Christie, they fell abruptly to his sides.

She remembered the gesture.

The butterflies in her stomach went into free-fall.

It had been the same when she came out of the dressing room at his house, wearing that lavender silk nightdress…

And the same when she had walked into the ballroom of the chateau with Roksana, eleven years ago…

The need for her father’s arm as support doubling, she still felt as though she was gliding along the aisle towards him, on nothing more than a current of air. Her cheeks felt hot and she was sure her lips were already quivering, just looking at him.

Waiting for her.

“You’re stunning,” Adrik whispered, when she was finally standing in front of him.

“
So are you.” She tried to hold a tear in check. “Thank you.”

He smiled, those lips curling in a way that made her want to launch herself at them right now.

“Nice diamonds,” he remarked gently, even though it was her eyes he was looking into.

“
They’re on loan,” she said, feeling it was important to explain their appearance. “Eileen brought them over. They belong to Zory Tamarkin, apparently.”

“
No, they don’t,” he murmured. His fingertips bridged the small gap between them, just to brush the tips of hers and make the tiniest connection. “I spoke to Zory last night. They’re mine – apparently.”

Christie was glad for his hand so close to hers, as her mind began to reel.

“Those are
the
diamonds, Christie,” he told her. “You’re wearing them.”

“
But…” she began, afraid that the room was about to disappear around her, and she would awaken from some impossible dream. “How…”

His finger touched her lips to hush her, and she thought she would melt.

“It was the Kremlin,” he said, obscurely. She was aware that the music was fading, and there was something they were imminently expected to do. “That was the clue. I’ll tell you later.”

“
You believe me?” Christie could hardly believe her own ears.

Pinch me
, she was thinking.

“
Yes.” He straightened his cuffs, and they both turned to face the front, standing side by side. “Everything. And I forgive you
…
and do you believe me?”

She felt colour rising to her face, as if it wasn’t hot enough already.

“Yes,” she breathed.

“
Good.” He smirked. “Don’t ever ask me for a dog.”

Christie swallowed.

“Are we getting married… for real?”

“
For real,” he nodded. “Unless you’ve changed your mind.”

“
No…” she gasped. “Never. I love you, Adrik.”

“
I love you too.” He let their fingers link at their sides, as the last bars of the music echoed away. His warmth flooded her, recharging her heart and soul beyond measure. “So let’s get married. And afterwards we’ll head over to the chateau for our reception, go back into that ballroom, and have our first dance together.” His fingers tightened briefly on hers. “Again.”

* * * *

The ceremony seemed to pass in a romantic flash. The part Christie experienced the most sharply, bringing her full attention into focus, and the last fragment of her concerns into play, was when they were given permission to kiss.

It was a brief, sweet, movie-star kiss. But she knew it was one she would always remember.

And then they stepped out into the sunshine arm-in-arm for the first time as husband and wife, while their friends cheered and threw confetti – except for Lucas, who had brought love-letters.

* * * * *