‘Is something wrong?’ I asked. Again I questioned my need to know. Or care.

‘What could possibly be wrong?’

She didn’t bother to meet my gaze. If anything, she attempted to detach herself, which ought to have been impossible, considering how close we were dancing. But I was learning that my new wife had several...interesting facets.

‘It is polite to look at me when you address me.’

She maintained her stance for another few seconds, then her blue eyes rose to mine. The urge to stare into them, to commit every fleck and expression to memory, charged through me, this time bringing a wave of heat to my groin.

I inhaled slowly, forcing myself to ignore that unsettling sensation and address her as I would any acquaintance.

Even though she wasn’t.

Even though she’d taken my name and we were effectively bound together for twelve long months.

‘This thing will go smoother if we attempt to be civil with one another. Don’t you agree?’

‘I’m not a puppet. I cannot act a certain way on command.’

‘But you can dispense with that little-girl-lost look. And I find it curious that you would choose to refer to puppets. Perhaps you’re familiar with knowing exactly which strings to tug to get what you want?’

Unlike me, she didn’t attempt to disguise her frown. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘This whole scheme, orchestrated by you and your family, has gone off without a hitch. Feel free to stop acting now.’

She inhaled sharply, her eyes darting to the guests dancing around us. ‘Please keep your voice down.’

‘Afraid you’ll be found out? Are you really so blind to the fact that every single guest is speculating wildly about how two people who’ve never met are now married?’

Her plump lips pressed together for a moment. ‘I can’t control what other people think. But I do care about perpetuating unfounded rumours.’

‘Do you, yineka mou?’

Her blue eyes shadowed and her gaze quickly flicked away. ‘Can you not call me that, please?’

‘Why not? Are you not my wife?’

The more the term fell from my lips the deeper it bored into me, as if rooting for a place to settle. Of course the search would be futile, because this was far from what I wanted.

The strain and stress of trying to save his failing company while keeping his family and his marriage together had driven my grandfather into an early grave, his spirit broken long before the heart attack that had suddenly taken him. It was the same stress that had nearly broken my own father, forcing him to step down after a mere two years as CEO.

I didn’t intend to weigh myself down with similar baggage.

I refocused on Calypso, attempting to ignore the effect of her soft curves against my body as she asked, ‘So, what happens after this?’

‘“This”?’

‘After we’re done here,’ she elaborated.

Unbidden, my thoughts flew ahead. To when the evening would turn exclusive and intimate. When wedding euphoria traditionally took on another, more carnal dimension.