The wedding Ceremony was a quiet affair. with Gabriel, David and Brenda in attendance and of course a constantly smiling little bride Deborah as witnesses.
Sharon felt numb as she heard Bryan's deep voice taking 5he vows, her hands trembling as he slid the heavy gold band on her wedding finger. Her own voice seemed so high, hardly recognisable as she promised to love and honour until she died.
She was dressed in cream silk, paid for by Bryan at his insistence. Inside, the designer label was explanation enough for the beautiful cut. It was simple in style, flowing over the curves of her body with satin embroidery round the low neck.Thevloosecmatchingvjacket was also embroidered, the silk smooth and sensual against her skin. Around her neck lay a necklace of emeralds, rubies and diamonds set in gold, another present from Bryan. It was exquisitely beautiful, heavy and cold against her throat. He had given it to her a day before the wedding, his eyes cool and expressionless. And although she had refused to accept it, he had insisted, brushing away her protests until she had given in.
She looked at him now beneath the sweep of her lashes and her breath caught painfully.. He was wearing a dark, expensively cut suit, his white shirt immaculate as always, his black hair brushed back from the hard lines of his hard lines of his face. He seemed calm and remote, a powerful attractive stranger.
As the ceremony ended, he turned and touched her mouth with his own. It was a brief kiss, over before Sharon realised his intention. Her startled eyes met his and the cool mockery she saw in his brought the colour pouring into her cheeks.
They left the building to drive to Bryan's house where a reception party had been arranged. She felt the weight of his arm around her shoulders and shivered, somehow hurt by the careless intimacy. What have I done? she thought in panic. What the hell have I done?
Gabriel was going to come to the reception with Deborah.
As they stepped into the cool April air,they were confronted by a battery of clicking cameras and the dazzling brightness of flashguns. Somebody was calling Bryan's name, questions buzzing around them.
Sharon stood dazed for a moment, jostled and pushed by the reporters, bombarded with questions, some insultingly personal, until Bryan guided her into his car. He drove away without hesitation, leaving the small crowd of people still moving, still taking photographs.
'Are you alright?' He glanced at her and she nodded. 'Who the hell tipped them off?' He wondered irritably as they reached the edge of the city.
'Don't look at me', she retorted, smoothing back her hair. Bryan was obviously very news worthy, used to the attention but it was the first time it had happened to her and she still felt a little shocked by the pushing, the demanding questions and avid curiosity. They reminded her of vultures fighting for blood.
She glanced surreptitiously at Bryan's profile and found it hard and expressionless. She looked down at the heavy gold band on her finger, playing with it nervously. She didn't know him at all. There were many sides to his character. She couldn't possibly guess what he was thinking right now. Worry pricked down her spine and she shivered.
'Cold?' He picked up on it immediately, averting his eyes from the road for a second.
'No, frightened, I suppose', she answered truthfully.
'About what?'
'You know damn well!' She turned away, staring out of the window at the grey clouds scudding low a Ross the sky. Bryan was silent for a moment, then he said, 'You are not a child Sharon, don't act like one'.
'I didn't want to get married', she glared at him, hurt by his coldness, knowing that she sounded like the child he accused her of being.
'Sulking won't change the situation', he said but he was smiling, a quality of tenderness in his voice.
Sharon felt her heart lurching painfully and lapsed into silence for the rest of the journey. Everybody was waiting for them when they arrived. The house was full of people. Sharon took a glass of champagne and found herself swallowed up in the crowd. People she didn't know, rushed over, congratulating her and Bryan. Beautiful, impeccably dressed women eyed her up and down assessingly. No doubt wondering how she had managed to capture the interest of a man like Bryan, she thought wryly as she fended off their pointed questions. Hands caught her waist from behind and turning, she found herself face to face with Oliver.
'Great Party', he said but he was not smiling. 'I suppose congratulations are in order'.
'You don't approve?' she partied lightly, her eyes smiling into his.
'What do you think? I heard all that happened between you two three years ago and I hated him for what he did to you'.
Sharon lowered her eyes, knowing with a rush of sadness that all Oliver's bitterness stemmed from jealousy.
She remembered that balmy night in Corfu when he had almost told her how he felt about her. It seemed like a million years ago. Like it had happened to a different person. 'I love him', she said hoping that Oliver would understand.
'I know. You don't have to spell it out to me, it's written all over your face'.
'I wish... I wish you could be happy for me', she said quietly.
'That's asking too much,sweetheart's, He threw back the whisky in his glass, grabbing another from a passing waiter. 'And you know damn well why'.
'Don't'. She touched his arm, her eyes pleading.
'Don't what? Is my beautiful young wife begging favours, Oliver? Bryan's cool hard voice cut between them and Sharon found him by her side and wondered how long he had been standing there. Had he heard it all? His eyes were clear and ice cold. His chill glance sweeping from Oliver to Sharon.
Oliver laughed but his eyes held nervousness as though he had picked up on the veiled threat in Bryan's words.
'Nit at all. I am just lamenting the lose of the best designer that I have ever had in the books'.
'It won't be forever. After I've had the baby, I'll be able to work from home and until then, you know very well that Sandra can take my place. Her work is brilliant and you know she has been waiting for an opportunity such as this'.
Oliver looked at her and smiled. 'You keep telling me that, so I guess I have to believe it', he said and looking at Bryan said further, 'You are a very lucky man'.
'I know', Bryan said, the words perfectly courteous but with an edge of ice. He slid his arm around Sharon's shoulders and pulled her away.
'You were so ride to him', she told him as soon as they were put of earshot.
'He's drunk', he said shooting her a narrowed probing glance. 'I wonder why that is?'
'I don't know what you mean'. Sharon said and averted her glance, colour staining her cheeks.
Bryan's eyes became speculative, his mouth set in a hard line. 'I mean that it is out of character'.
Sharon did not answer and Bryan asked, 'Was your relationship with him more than just professional?'
Flustered, she retorted, 'That's a terrible thing to suggest. She was angry at his perception. He looked at Oliver and saw everything.
'That still does not answer my question', his black eyes held hers in an unrelenting demand.
Sharon gave in. 'I am very fond of Oliver but we are not lovers. It has never been that way'.
Bryan smiled, a triumphant gleam in his eyes. 'He's in love with you'.
'I hope not', She did not want to hurt Oliver but she knew in her heart of hearts that Bryan was right. Why did love always have to hurt?