CHAPTER ONE

CHRISTIAN MARKOS TIPPED the last of his champagne down his throat and immediately refilled his glass.

He’d known today was going to be hard, but hadn’t imagined quite how torturous it would be. Not even all the running around he’d done with Rocco that morning, in their seemingly desperate attempt to find the bride, had mitigated it.

Afterwards, he’d stood by the side of his closest friend on the happiest day of his life and all he’d been able to think was how deeply he’d betrayed him.

While Rocco had been exchanging his vows, Christian had been using all his willpower to stop his gaze flitting to Alessandra.

He was still fighting it.

child who’d grown into a ravishingly beautiful

Or should have been.

her glossy, dark-chestnut hair pulled back in a tight chignon, she’d arrived by boat

the chief bridesmaid outshone everyone, including

time he’d seen Alessandra she’d been wearing a short, cream lace dress with black beading and a pair of black shoes so high he’d been amazed she could walk in them. But walk in them she had, beautifully, her delectable bottom swaying with every step.

ballroom. The wedding dinner was over, the evening celebration about to start. He’d made his best man’s speech and managed to raise some laughs from the other guests, especially Stefan and Zayed, who’d substituted the speech he’d written with a bluer

to die for. Just six weeks ago he would have been at her side like a shot. If not her, then one of the

were the case, then he must have diabetes, because none of the sweets

The

he have allowed things to get so out of hand? He might flit from bed to

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