The Silver Bride

Dior was now free to rejoice in the happy notion that he was at the heart of her every thought. And, yes, she noted with surprise, he liked that idea. She watched the slumbrous smile slowly curve his mouth.

Only then did she acknowledge that he was indeed the very center of her world. Perhaps it wasn't a good idea to let him know that. 'These days you need to work hard to keep a marriage afloat,' she added.

'But we don't have any problems,' Dior stated with a definite aggressive edge. Stella busied herself rooting about in the incredibly elaborate picnic hamper and concealed the amused glint in her gaze. He was keen to deny the possibility that they did have a problem.

And, having vented her spleen in setting Stella up for that newspaper article, what, realistically, could Aria possibly do to hurt either her or then-marriage in the future? 'My reaction to that squalid newspaper article was unreasonable,' Dior announced with real vigor. Stella glanced up.

'Was it?' 'There's a scandal in my background too,' Dior assured her. 'Stop trying to make me feel better,' Stella told him drily. 'My grandfather was temporarily disinherited for marrying my grandmother.' Lucy and Bella's sister?' Stella queried in surprise.

'For goodness' sake, why?' 'She was an island girl. Her father was a...' Dior hesitated. 'Well, he kept goats,' he completed, rather grittily. 'He kept goats?' Stella gasped incredulously. 'Don't say it...' Dior warned. But for the next few seconds, Stella was quite incapable of saying anything.

Recalling the way she had once compared Dior to a goat-herd, she started laughing so hard she flopped back on the sand. 'I'm sorry, Dior...I just love it!' she told him chokily. 'I knew I could rely on you to be tactful.' Leaning over her, Dior gazed down into her beautiful laughing face, hazel green eyes flaring to smoldering gold.

Stella shivered and raised her fingers to trace his hard jawline. 'How hungry are you?' she whispered unevenly. And with a ragged groan of very male appreciation, Dior shifted over her. His mouth swooped down on hers in a hot, sensual invasion that spoke for itself.

Having carefully explored the sauna and gym complex in the bas.e.m.e.nt of the enormous London townhouse, Stella wandered on to study the fabulous indoor swimming pool, her eyes just getting wider and wider.

'I think you like this place,' Dior whispered. 'Hmm...it looks even better than it looked on the videotape the agent sent out to us,' Stella confided. "Then all we have to do is move in.' Stella spun around, her eyes lighting up.

'You love it too?' 'It seems to have everything, so we'll buy it.' 'It'll make such a marvelous family home!' Stella threw both arms around Dior and then she frowned. Tilting back her head, she gave him an anxious, searching closely inspect.

'You're not buying it just to please me, are you?' 'Would I do that?' 'Yes,' she sighed. 'But this is where we're going to live. It's very important that you like it as much as I do. So give me your impressions.' Dior shrugged.

'I'm sorry I made you go and see all the other ones, but I was scared we might be missing something,' Stella admitted 'Actually, the minute I saw this house on video I knew it was all my dreams come true, so I saved it to the last.' Stella climbed back into the limousine in a state of near bliss. They had been married for over a month now.