The evening didn’t improve as Iliana boldly took her place at their table, ignored Daria and Angelina’s telling looks as she proceeded to stake a claim for Loukas’ attention.
To his credit he mostly ignored her, adhering only to polite civility as the occasion demanded.
Yet it made for unnecessary awkwardness, and doubtless aroused speculation amongst many of the guests present.
Alesha recalled the words of a famed socialite who advised … ‘Don’t get mad, darling—get even.’
So she smiled, conducted animated conversation with their table companions, and managed to cast Loukas an adoring look or three during the meal.
It helped that he played a similar part, although there was a bad moment when Alesha and Lexi used the powder room, and Iliana entered as they were about to exit.
Alesha witnessed the gleam of satisfaction in the model’s eyes, and mentally prayed a verbal war could be avoided.
‘Very clever of you, darling, to land a fish of Loukas’ calibre. What bait did you use?’
‘Public displays are a trifle tacky,’ she ventured as Iliana initiated a confrontation. ‘Don’t you think?’
‘Are you pregnant?’
‘Iliana,’ Lexi said quietly. ‘You’re in danger of making a fool of yourself.’
Alesha placed a placating hand on Lexi’s arm and held the model’s gaze as she asked evenly, ‘Is there a point to this conversation?’
Hard eyes raked a damning appraisal. ‘You’re quite pretty. But don’t think your marriage will last. Loukas is an intensely sexual animal. I doubt you’ll satisfy him for long.’
‘You think? Perhaps I should thank you for the advice and suggest more creative positions …’ she paused deliberately ‘… in places other than the bedroom.’
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