For Lord's sake, he'd got the ring on her finger and then he'd started acting like some medieval tyrant! Hadn't he seen how utterly inappropriate and unnecessary it had been for the brunette to demand his attention amid their wedding photographs being taken? Not.
As Dior swung back to her again, Stella threw back her slim shoulders and lifted her chin. 'You can't talk to me like you just did, Dior—' 'Ohi...no?' Dior countered with dangerous quietness, his tone trickling down Stella's rigid spine like the gypsy's curse. 'You've got a lot to learn about Greek men!' Frankly, at that moment, Stella felt she had already learned quite sufficient.
She was fizzing with fury. But before she could respond hay kind, Grace Bell appeared a few feet from them. 'Freeze!' she begged, and eagerly lifted her camera to take a picture. 'You look just gorgeous, Stella,' the older woman sighed appreciatively. 'You didn't have to invite me but I'm so glad you did. I'm having a great time.'
'The pleasure is ours, Bell,' Dior responded with a charismatic smile. "The pleasure has just gone out of my day,' Stella confided as they climbed into the limousine that would take them to the reception at the Savoy Hotel. 'When you're in the wrong, I'll tell you,' Dior countered without a shade of regret. But I wasn't in the wrong, Stella almost snapped, and then conscience spurred her into questioning that conviction.
This was their wedding day. Aria 's smooth little power play had embarrassed rather than injured. Possibly in allowing her insecurity full rein, she had overreacted. 'Dior,' she whispered ruefully, hazel green eyes very clear, 'This isn't a very easy occasion for me...' Dior dealt her a questioning, wary look, her change of approach disconcerting him.
'I didn't realize there would be so many guests and I hardly know anybody here,' Stella pointed out. 'And all your friends and relatives were expecting you to marry Aria .' Dior tensed. 'Yes, but—' 'Dior, they wouldn't be human if they weren't wondering why you are suddenly marrying me instead...' Stella colored.
'And if they're thinking what people usually think at times like this, well, they're dead right where I'm concerned, aren't they? I am pregnant! Naturally, I feel touchy and self-conscious today.' Dior closed an unexpected hand firmly over hers, hazel green eyes no longer cool and distant.
'I am proud that you are carrying my baby,' he cut in with roughened sincerity. 'So maybe I went over the top about Aria —' 'No,' Dior sighed. 'Once again I was too quick to judge you, and I apologize. I honestly didn't appreciate how you were feeling.'
It was wonderful what difference a little explanation could make. Stella watched in wonderment as Dior lifted her hand and pressed his mouth softly to the center of her palm. Her heart seemed to swell inside her chest and her pulsebeat accelerated. A simply huge wave of happiness whooshed up inside her, dispelling all anxiety and unease.
'Even worse, you have no family here of your own to support you,' Dior conceded grimly. 'Mum would have loved all this...' Stella's smile of acknowledgment was rather tremulous at that emotive thought. With a rueful groan, Dior pulled her into his arms. 'When you said I had no tact, you hit the target!' Stella knew better than to remind him of his father.
She hadn't the slightest doubt that the late Aaron Harlequin would have been anything but happy to see his only son marrying! someone as ordinary as she felt herself to be. On the face of it, she conceded painfully, Aria would have been so much more suitable. She rested her cheek against his broad shoulder, the warm, intimate scent of him doing the wildest things to her senses. Dior glanced down at her, dark, deep-set eyes burning gold.
'Have you ever made love in a limo?' he enquired thickly. Stella gave him a helpless grin. 'Oh, yeah, Dior...of course I want to walk into the Savoy and greet all these important people with my make-up half off and my hair all messed up!' 'I could persuade you—'
'But you won't. You're going to be a miracle of restraint... until tonight,' she told him unsteadily, her cheeks warming. Met by Stella's determined smile as the bridal couple greeted their arriving guests at the hotel, Aria bent to kiss her cheek with cool familiarity, exchanged a light word with Dior and moved on past. The brunette's supreme confidence and control still daunted Stella.
Dior watched the smile drop right off Stella's expressive face again. Try to appreciate how difficult this must be for her.' Stella nodded and flushed, feeling herself rebuked although she had done her utmost to look calm and friendly. She had never been very good at hiding her emotions. And it looked as if she was stuck with the stigma of having lied about what had passed between her and the older woman at their first meeting.
But then wasn't it possible that in the heat of the moment Aria had acted totally out of character that afternoon? Aria might now regret her behavior, Stella thought with sudden hope, resolving to be more generous herself. Natan Murphy introduced her to his wife, Chloe. She was a bubbly redhead with freckles and a friendly, easy manner.