The Tycoon's Rebel Bride (The Anetakis Tycoons #2)(25)

When the song died, Theron dropped his hands and then enfolded Isabella’s in his. “Come, pethi mou. Your party awaits.”

Isabella donned her best smile and allowed Theron to lead her through the assembled guests to where the band was set up. Theron held a hand out, and the music stopped. Then he turned to face the guests.

“I appreciate you coming for the occasion to welcome Isabella Caplan to our city,” Theron said in a congenial tone.

A waiter approached and handed Isabella a glass of champagne then turned to offer Theron one. He held it at waist level as he continued to address the crowd.

“We’re here to enjoy an evening of entertainment, dancing and conversation. You’re welcome to stay as long as you want, or until the booze runs out,” he added with a smile.

Laughter rang out.

He turned to Isabella and held out his glass. “A toast to Isabella.”

“To Isabella,” the guests echoed.

Theron touched his glass to hers and their gazes locked. For a long moment they simply stared. And then Theron broke away and took a long swallow.

Though she had no desire to wade through the eligible men assembled at Theron’s request—it reminded her of choosing steaks at a butcher shop—she knew she’d have to play the part, particularly if she had any hope of making Theron jealous. It was a long shot, because he’d have to feel more for her than simple lust, but at the moment, it was her only hope.

The toast seemed to have signaled a return to normal activities. The band struck up a song, and people swirled onto the dance floor.

“Come with me, Bella. It’s time to introduce you around.”

“You mean it’s time for me to meet the men you’ve assembled for me,” she said dryly.

He glanced questioningly at her. “Would you prefer not to meet them? There’s nothing to say you have to.”

He sounded almost hopeful, a little too eager, which was strange considering the time he had to have spent putting together his group of bachelors. The background checks alone would have been an enormous undertaking. And he wouldn’t have left a single stone unturned.

She nearly grinned at the thought.

“No, let’s do it. My future awaits and all that,” she said lightly.

She curled her hand around his arm and allowed him to lead her into the crowd. Unsure of what she could expect, and maybe she’d thought there would be a stampede, she was pleasantly surprised by how civilized the whole process was.

Theron took her around from group to group, introducing her to business acquaintances and friends. It was easy to immerse herself in the fantasy that she and Theron were together, and he was acting as her escort and not a man bent on marrying her off. It was also easy to forget that just a few feet away, Alannis and her mother stood, observing the goings-on.

Still, Isabella wasn’t ready to let reality intrude, and she clung to Theron’s arm all the while offering a smile or a laugh as she engaged in conversation. After awhile she found herself relaxing and genuinely enjoying the festive gathering.

She glanced up as an attractive man made his way in her direction, a determined look on his face. She recognized him as Marcus Atwater, the man who’d introduced himself in the restaurant the day before.

“Isabella, my apologies for my late arrival,” he said as he approached. He flashed her a charming smile that she couldn’t help but respond to. “I was unexpectedly tied up with a client.”

He took her hand, and as he’d done in the restaurant, he lifted it to his lips. Then he cast a questioning look in Theron’s direction—Theron who stood there looking as though a black cloud had parked itself right over his head.

“I’d like to borrow Isabella. I promise to keep her safe, and you can return to your own date, who, if you don’t mind me saying, looks very much like she’d like to dance.”

Theron scowled, and Isabella glanced over to see Alannis eyeing the dancing couples with what could only be construed as a wistful glance. Isabella didn’t want to feel pity. She wanted to dislike Alannis. If she was a complete ogre it would be so much simpler, but the fact was that both mother and daughter had been extremely nice to her.

“Are you borrowing me for a dance or for some other purpose?” she asked teasingly as she slipped her hand into Marcus’s.

“How about we dance first and we can discuss other purposes later,” he said with a teasing glint in his eye.

Theron’s expression was glacial. She released his arm to go with Marcus, but he caught her free hand, pulling her between the two men.

She stared at him for a moment, waiting for him to speak, but he seemed to be at a loss for words, or maybe he hadn’t intended to pull her back.

“Was there something you wanted?” she asked.

He released her hand and shook his head even as he glanced in Alannis’s direction. “No. Have fun, pethi mou. This is your night.”

With one last look in his direction, she turned and let Marcus lead her back to the dance floor. He spun her in an expert move, and she landed against his chest. Laughing blue eyes shone down at her, and she smiled in return.

“Are you still husband hunting or have I arrived too late for consideration?” he asked with mock seriousness.

“Aren’t men supposed to run in the other direction when marriage is mentioned?”

“Not if he doesn’t mind being caught by the woman in question.”