Читать книгу Honour-Bound Groom / Cinderella & the CEO: Honour-Bound Groom - Maureen Child - Страница 13

Loren heard the knock at the door to her suite and wondered if perhaps her maid had forgotten something. She’d only just sent her away, preferring to spend these last few moments before her wedding alone. She picked up her voluminous skirts and went to open the door.

“Giselle!” Loren stepped back, startled to see the blonde there. She let her skirts settle back down to the carpet beneath her, the ivory French taffeta giving a distinctive rustle.

“My, don’t you look every inch the fairy-tale princess,” Giselle remarked, coming into the sitting room.

Loren tolerated the woman’s scrutiny of the dress that was the fulfillment of all her childhood dreams. Yes, she did feel like a fairy-tale princess in the strapless gown. Somehow the words from Giselle’s glossy red lips made the idea more of an insult than a compliment.

“Was there something you wanted?” Loren asked coolly.

“No, Alex asked me to come up and check on you. He thought you might benefit from some female company since your mother isn’t here.”

Loren bit back the retort that immediately sprang to her lips. She would not fight, not with anyone, on her wedding day.

“That’s lovely of him. But as you can see, I’m fine, thank you.”

She waited for Giselle to leave but instead she settled herself on one of the couches. Loren had to admit, she looked beautiful. The woman certainly knew how to make the most of her features. The dress she wore would have looked vampish on anyone else, but on Giselle it was elegantly sensual.

“You know, I have to hand it to you. I thought you’d have given up by now,” Giselle said.

“Given up?”

“Well, how many women would have signed that prenuptial agreement, for a start? I know I certainly wouldn’t.”

“Perhaps you would if you loved your fiancé enough,” Loren commented quietly. “As I do.”

Giselle waved her hand as if dismissing Loren’s words, the very gesture making Loren’s spine stiffen in irritation. She’d wanted this time alone to reflect on her coming marriage, and particularly on the terms of the prenuptial agreement that Giselle had mentioned. Clearly, the blonde knew all about it, and that fact rankled with Loren. It should have been a private matter. One between her and Alex alone.

This past week had been such a whirl of activity with a museum opening to attend along with several charity functions, all of which gave her a taste for what her duties would be like as a del Castillo bride. She and Alex, while together for much of their waking moments, had barely had a moment alone to talk. Whenever she’d tried to bring the subject of the prenuptial document up, Alex had brushed it off until later. Now, today, was about as late as it could get and Loren was still unsure of where she stood on the agreement she’d eventually signed.

“Well, whatever,” Giselle continued, oblivious to Loren’s obvious displeasure in her company. “You’ve really gone above and beyond the call of duty. It’s either incredibly naive of you to stick with it or incredibly kind.”

“Kind?”

“To agree to the terms just to help the company out and keep an old man happy.”

“I don’t know what you mean. I’m marrying Alex because I love him. Because I’ve always loved him,” Loren stated as firmly as she was able.

“Surely you’re aware that Alex is only marrying you because of the curse.”

“The curse?” Surely she didn’t mean the old governess’s curse?

Loren knew well the story of the woman who’d been brought to Isla Sagrado from the south of France to educate the daughters of one of the original del Castillos on the island—a nobleman from Spain. The poor woman had fallen in love with her employer and entered into an affair that had lasted years.

Legend had it that she’d borne him three sons, but that in view of the fact his wife had only borne him daughters, he’d taken her boys from her and he’d raised them as his legitimate issue, paying her off with a ruby necklace from the del Castillo jewel collection. Paintings in the family gallery that predated the nobleman showed the necklace, known as La Verdad del Corazon—the Heart’s Truth. It was a stunning piece of chased gold with a massive heart-shaped ruby at its center. Loren had always privately believed that it was more the type of gift a man gave to his one true love than as payment for services rendered.

When the nobleman’s wife died, however, he’d married another woman—one from a high-ranking family. In her misery the governess was said to have interrupted the wedding, begging her beloved to take her back. When her lover—and her sons—turned their backs on her, she cursed the del Castillo family. If, in the next nine generations, the del Castillos did not learn to live by their family motto of honor, truth and love, the ninth generation would be the last. With that pronouncement, she cast both herself and the Heart’s Truth from the cliffs behind the castle and into the savage ocean. Her body was later found, but the Heart’s Truth had been lost ever since.

Loren had always found the story to be truly tragic and, as a child, had often imagined a happier ending for the governess and her lover.

If the curse was to be believed—not to mention previous generations’ total disregard for its power—it was responsible for the steady diminishment of the family over the past nine generations. But to believe that Alex was marrying her in an attempt to break the curse, well, that was just ridiculous. What happened three hundred years ago had no bearing on life today.

“Surely you must know of it. You’re from here, after all, and the papers have been full of it, especially since the announcement of your engagement. The boys are the ninth generation—the last of the line. Old Aston was starting to have concerns that they would stay that way. Alex is trying to downplay it but you know what his grandfather is like once he gets an idea into his head. He believes he’s even seen the governess’s ghost. Can you imagine it? Of course, Alex would move mountains to please the old man—especially if it also happened to be good for business.

“Anyway, they came up with this fabulous publicity drive where they’d all get married and have babies to prove to everyone, their grandfather especially, that the curse isn’t real.”

Giselle laughed but Loren was hard-pressed to quell the shiver that ran down her spine. Even more so when she weighed the truth in the other woman’s words. If, as she’d said, Abuelo was genuinely concerned about the curse, Alex would do anything to alleviate those concerns. It was the kind of man he was and his loyalty and love for his family were unquestionable.

Would that loyalty and love extend to her, she wondered, or was Giselle right and was Loren merely the means to an end?

Giselle rose from her seat and brushed an imaginary fleck of dust from her dress.

“Well, I can see you don’t need me. I’ll go down to Alex and let him know you’re ready. The cars are waiting to take everyone to the cathedral.”

“Thank you.”

Loren forced the words past her lips and tried not to think too hard about the ceremony ahead.

She would much rather have married in the intimate private chapel that formed a part of the castillo’s family history, but her wedding to Alex was to be quite a show. Visiting dignitaries from all over Europe would be in attendance along with the cream of Sagradan society. Hundreds of guests, if the lists she’d seen were any indication.

Hundreds of strangers.

As the door closed behind Giselle’s retreating figure it struck Loren how alone she truly was. The few old school friends she’d managed to touch base with since her return all viewed her differently now. Sure, they were friendly, but it was as if there was an invisible wall between them. As if she was unreachable. Untouchable.

Well, untouchable certainly fit in well with how Alex had continued to treat her. Maybe he was saving himself, making sure he was locked and loaded for when they met the terms of their prenuptial agreement, she thought cynically. Or maybe he managed to sate his appetites elsewhere, a snide voice niggled from the back of her mind. She pushed the thought from her head but couldn’t quite get rid of the bitter aftertaste in her mouth at the thought.

Loren crossed the sitting room to the large window that looked out past the castle’s walls and over the landscape. The sun was hot and bright today, a portent of the burgeoning summer months ahead. The sky was a sharp clear blue, broken by slender drifts of cirrus cloud here and there. It was a perfect day to be married by any standard, so why then did she suddenly feel as if it was anything but?

Alex fidgeted with his cuff links for what felt like the umpteenth time today as he stood at the altar of the cathedral.

“Do that again and they’ll fall off,” Benedict cautioned from his side.

“Funny guy,” Alex responded, but forced himself to relax.

He looked back across the rows and rows of guests, some faces he knew well, others hardly at all. The cathedral was packed. Today’s ceremony would be the beginning of the new age of del Castillos that would lay old ghosts to rest, and everyone who was anyone wanted to be there to see it. He met Abuelo’s stare from the front pew, the one carved with the del Castillo crest. The old man gave him a slow nod of approval and Alex felt his chest swell with pride. Any doubts he might have had about whether he was doing the right thing were nothing in the face of his grandfather’s happiness.

“Do you know what the delay is?” Reynard asked. “Maybe she’s got cold feet and has made a run for the airport.”

Alex gave his brother a glare, but he felt a short sharp pang of concern. Loren had been different since he’d given her the prenup to read and sign. A little more distant and a little less eager to please. Had the agreement bothered her that much? Surely she could see the necessity for such an agreement without it affecting their marriage. The financial considerations of providing for her, should he die unexpectedly or should their marriage fail, aside, of primary importance was ensuring the next generation. Once that was out of the way then, well, they could take whatever came next at their leisure—a prospect that, he had to admit, filled him with pleasure. It had been hell keeping his hands off Loren these past two weeks, especially when she’d obviously been eager to take their relationship to an intimate level.

But tonight his wait would be rewarded. Granted, the timing of their union meant that their liaison tonight would not be part of the agreement they’d both signed. It would instead be the consummation of the promises they would make to one another before all these witnesses today.

The importance of those promises settled in his chest like a solid lump of lead, pressing down on his heart, his very honor. It didn’t settle well with him to be pledging to love another for the rest of their days when, in truth, he didn’t love her.

Love. It wasn’t something he and Loren had discussed. Hell, it wasn’t even something Alex had considered until she’d declared her feelings for him the night he’d given her the engagement ring.

When she’d first agreed to marry him back in New Zealand, he had assumed she cared for him, perhaps admired him a little the way she had when she was a child. He’d also known she was attracted to him—just as he was attracted to her. And she’d wanted to honor her father’s memory, in much the same way that he’d wanted to ease his grandfather’s mind. So Alex had been comfortable with the arrangement—with the idea of a marriage based on mutual regard, a healthy dose of desire and shared respect for family. Love had never been part of the plan.

But something about her sweetly serious declaration when she accepted his ring and gave him her heart had moved him unexpectedly, making him feel almost shamed. Was it fair to her to accept her love when he was not yet prepared to return it? A picture of his parents flashed through his memory. He wondered what they’d think of the choice he was making today.

They had known real love. It had been considered only fitting that if their light had to be extinguished so early that they die together. The avalanche that had taken them, while on a romantic skiing holiday together without their sons, had wiped out joy as the boys had known it up until that time. Yet they’d been lucky to have had Abuelo, who’d put his own grief aside to continue to guide and raise the three teenage boys whose anger at their parents’ fate sought many outlets.

It had been Abuelo’s steady love and firm hand that had brought them through. Love they reciprocated. Taking another look at his grandfather’s beaming face, Alex knew that while he would not be telling the truth as he made his vows to Loren today, the gift of hope it would give his grandfather was worth far too much for him to give in to second thoughts now.

“Last chance to back out,” Benedict said under his breath. Before Alex could respond, a sudden hush spread through the cathedral. The centuries-old organ, which had been delivering a steady medley of music, halted. The lump of lead in Alex’s chest shifted, forming a fist around his lungs as all eyes turned to the main doors. They swung slowly open and a burst of sunlight filled the doorway, bathing the vestibule with its golden glow. And then, within the glow of light, a lone figure appeared.

The fist squeezed tighter as Alex realized how difficult this must be for Loren. In the face of her mother’s blank refusal to attend their nuptials, he should have insisted she be accompanied on her journey down the center aisle of the cathedral—past the many assessing eyes of the glitterati and politically powerful. But she’d refused all offers from his brothers and Abuelo.

“My father will be with me in spirit,” she’d said, holding that determined, fine-boned chin of hers firmly in the air, daring him to challenge her wishes. “I need no one else.”

He’d had to accede to her wish. After all, it was the only thing on which she had insisted in all the matters pertaining to the ceremony.

The powerful organ began again and as Loren began to glide down the aisle toward him, Alex realized he’d misjudged his bride’s strength and fortitude.

Pride suffused every cell in his body as she walked toward him with effortless grace—her bare shoulders squared and her spine straight, her slender neck holding her head high. Loren’s skin gleamed against the strapless ivory gown that hugged her torso and exposed the gentle swell of her breasts before spreading into a bloom of fabric around and behind her. For the first time in his memory, Alex was speechless. Beneath the gossamer-fine veil that covered her head and shoulders and drifted down to her waist he caught glimpses of light striking the diamond tiara that had once been his mother’s. The matching necklace, its design the inverted image of the tiara, settled against her luminous skin at the base of her throat and spilled in a gentle V over her collarbone.

Her face was composed behind her veil, her eyes avoiding contact with his, focused instead on the altar behind him. As she drew closer he could hear the swish of the fabric of her gown as it swept across the floor, could see the fine tremors that shook the opulent bouquet of early summer blooms she carried.

“Looks like lanky little Loren Dubois has really grown up, hmm?”

Reynard’s voice in his ear snapped Alex from his trance.

“For once in your life could you just shut up?” he hissed at his brother through teeth clenched so tight his jaw ached, earning a glare of disapproval from the priest in the process.

Reynard’s next words, however, shocked him in a way he never expected.

“Don’t hurt her, Alex. Whatever you do, don’t ever hurt her.”

“Noted,” Alex replied with a swift nod.

He met his brother’s eyes briefly. There was no doubting Reynard meant what he said. For some strange reason it made him feel better that Loren had a champion. That it should have been him was not wasted on him at all, but given what he’d agreed to do to save the del Castillo family and fortunes, it was only fitting it be one of his brothers. Both, if the look on Benedict’s face was any indicator.

A savage rush of possession roared through his veins. They could look, certainly, they could warn him as much as they liked, but essentially, Loren was his. As she joined him on the steps in front of the altar that knowledge gave him the ultimate satisfaction.

When it came time to say their vows, Loren looked at him, truly looked at him, for the first time that day. And as she pledged to love him, he found he had to look away. Her words carried such surety, such conviction. She deserved more than empty promises in return. Her voice wobbled slightly on the last word of the formal ceremony they’d chosen. No, he corrected himself, the ceremony Giselle had chosen. Shame scored him. This was Loren’s wedding day. He should have given her more say in how the day was to go.

He’d approached this all wrong. He already had her love and loyalty and he’d walked roughshod over both in the execution of his goals and his needs. Loren was more than a means to an end, she was a vital, living, breathing woman.

He would make it up to her, he promised himself silently. As soon as they’d fulfilled the first part of the prenuptial agreement, he would definitely make it up to her.

Loren had barely spoken half a dozen words directly to him since they’d exchanged their vows. In the car from the wedding reception it was no different. Alex found the uncharacteristic silence challenging. Normally Loren found something, anything, to talk to him about—it was one of the things he found so engaging about her.

But something had changed inside her today; he could sense it in the way she held herself, the way she’d spoken to others. As if she was playing a part and was not really totally involved in what she was doing.

As their car swung through the gate of the outer wall and drew up to the entrance of the castillo it finally occurred to Alex why she was so quiet. She had to be nervous about tonight. He would make sure their first time was one she would remember forever. A special night. A memory to be treasured.

Dios, but she looked exquisitely beautiful. He could almost taste the satin softness of her skin already. Almost feel the shiver of desire ripple across her skin.

As the driver opened his door he gave a short command to the man to allow Alex himself to escort his new wife from the vehicle. He walked around to her side of the car and pulled open her door, offering her his hand.

“Come, Loren. Let me help you inside.”

“Thank you,” she said softly.

The voluminous skirts and sweep of the train of her dress was a confection of fabric about her, yet she handled the garment with the grace of a swan. Another definite plus in her favor—no matter the situation, she handled it with aplomb. In spite of his concerns, he knew he’d chosen well when he’d decided to marry her. She would be a marvelous asset to him in so very many ways.

“You were wonderful today, I was so proud of you,” he bent to murmur in her ear as they approached the arched entrance of their home.

“It was an—” she hesitated a moment before continuing “—interesting day.”

“Interesting?” Alex forced himself to laugh softly. Surely she hadn’t picked up on his unease during the ceremony—or had she? Well regardless, he’d have to put her mind at ease. “It was a great success. All of Isla Sagrado knows you are now my beautiful bride and their blessings upon us will reflect back upon them. I imagine, though, it must have been difficult for you.”

“Difficult?”

“Without your family to support you.”

“Yes, it was difficult, but it was what my father would have expected of me.”

There was a note to her voice that sounded off-key but Alex pushed the thought aside. She was obviously weary after the pomp and ceremony of the day and the obligations she’d fulfilled at the lavish reception.

Alex guided Loren up the stairs and toward the shared suite he’d ordered their effects delivered to today—the suite that had been his parents’. As they swept inside he nodded in approval at the sensual soft lighting provided by the plethora of candles he’d requested be lit before their arrival.

The heady scents of rose and sandalwood drifted on the air, feminine and masculine, yin and yang.

“Would you like to be alone while you change? Or perhaps I should call your maid to assist with your gown?”

“No, it’s all right. I can manage the lacing myself,” Loren replied.

Again there was that slight discordance. Again he shrugged it away.

“I’ll leave you to change then.”

She merely inclined her head and moved gracefully across the room to her private chamber. Alex watched as she drew the door closed behind her then wasted no time getting to his private en suite bathroom and divesting himself of his clothing before stepping under the hot steam of a quick shower. A few swift swipes of his towel later and he was dry. Naked, he padded through to his dressing room where he reached for midnight blue, satin pajama bottoms and a matching robe.

Would her touch be as soft as the fabric that caressed his skin, he wondered. No, it would be softer, he was certain. His body coiled tight in anticipation of what lay ahead.

Before he realized it, he was at the door to her rooms, his hand twisting the handle and thrusting open the door. Candles had been lit in here, too. The large pedestal bed, swathed in cream-and-gold draperies, stood invitingly empty.

Empty?

A sound drew his attention as his bride came from her bathroom. Her satin nightgown skimmed her slender form enticingly, cascading over her gentle curves much as his hands now itched to, also. A small frown puckered her brow as she worked a brush through her hair.

“Here, let me,” Alex said as she crossed the room. He took the brush from her fingers. “Sit down on the bed.”

Loren did as he requested and Alex stood a little behind her and forced himself to focus on her hair and only her hair as he reached to stroke the brush through her tresses, easing out the knots and occasional forgotten hairpin.

“Ah.” She sighed. “That feels wonderful.”

Liquid fire pooled in his groin at her words. He planned to make her feel so much more wonderful very soon. Now that the brush flowed more smoothly through her hair he allowed himself to focus on the deliciously smooth, bare shoulders she presented to him.

Palest pink straps of satin were all that held her nightgown up. Straps that with the slightest breath could slide down those shoulders and farther, down her slender arms, exposing her back. He’d never found the prospect of observing a woman’s back so enticing before. But then again, with Loren everything was different. Everything felt new.

He couldn’t help himself, he had to taste her. He gathered her hair in one fist and gently drew it away from the nape of her neck then bent to kiss her, allowing his tongue to stroke across her skin in a private caress.

He felt her response ripple down her spine. Smiling to himself, he kissed her again—this time sucking gently—and was rewarded with the soft sound of her gasp. Alex let the hairbrush drop to the floor and placed both his hands upon her shoulders, coaxing her upright to turn and face him.

Her face, clean of the makeup she’d worn today, appeared flushed in the candlelight—her eyes luminous, their pupils dilated so far they almost appeared to consume the dark velvet brown of her irises. Her lips were moist and remained slightly parted. His gaze dropped to her breasts, to the clearly delineated pinpoints of her nipples as they thrust against the satin with her each and every rapid breath.

Something knotted tight and low in Alex’s belly. Something possessive. Something wild. Every instinct within him roared that he plunder her lips, that he drag the delicate fabric of her nightgown from her body and expose her to him, allowing him to feast on her feminine glory. To rush her to dizzying heights she had no experience of.

To mark her as his own.

She is inexperienced, he reminded himself sternly, forcing himself to hold back, to slow down.

He let his hands skim across her shoulders and gently cup the back of her neck, tilting her head to him. He lowered his face, his eyes locked upon hers. His entire body rigid with the need to take this as gently as humanly possible.

His lips were only millimeters from hers. Already he could feel her breath against him, smell the sweetness of her breath.

“Alex, wait!”

Through the cloud of passion that controlled him he heard the plea in her voice. He closed his eyes for a moment and drew in a shuddering breath, constraining his desire.

“You are frightened. I’m rushing you. Do not worry, Loren. I will make tonight one you will never forget.”

“No, it’s not that,” she said, pulling out of his arms, creating a short distance between them.

Already his body cried out for her. Craving her slender frame against his, aching for her warmth to envelop him.

“Then what is it?” he asked, fighting back the edge of frustration that threatened to spill over into his voice. He didn’t want to frighten her more with his hunger.

“It’s about us. Our marriage.”

“Us?”