by Abby Green
Their dinner plates had just been cleared away by his housekeeper and he asked, ‘Did you go to university?’
A faint wash of colour came into her cheeks. She avoided looking at him and he had to curb the urge to tip her chin up so she had no choice. Once again, not usually an issue for him with women.
She shook her head. ‘No. I wanted to do a business degree, but by the time I left school...things had changed. Matías was in school, but he came home every weekend and he needed me. And I had to work at the castillo—try to get it to make us some money.’
‘I can imagine that experience probably taught you as much as a business degree.’
Leonora smiled ruefully. ‘Perhaps, although it hasn’t exactly been a resounding success. The castillo needs serious investment—like what you’re doing here.’
Gabriel seized the opportunity she’d presented him with. ‘I can help you with that kind of investment, Leonora.’
Now she looked at him, eyes wide, the flush in her face deepening. She stuttered, ‘That isn’t... I didn’t mean to make it sound like—’
‘I know you didn’t. I’m merely stating a fact. If you become my wife, naturally your security and your family’s, and the restoration of your castillo, become my responsibility.’
* * *
His cool, emotionless logic and the word responsibility made something snap inside Leonora. She blurted out, ‘Why do you want to marry now?’
He sat back and looked at her. ‘To be perfectly honest, because you’re the first woman I’ve met who has inspired me to consider it.’
Leonora felt light-headed. ‘Me? I inspired you?’
She really wasn’t that special.
‘I always knew I’d have to marry. I’m the last in my line. Not marrying and not having a family isn’t an option for me. But it’s something I’ve preferred not to think about. Until now.’
‘But if it was an option you’d prefer not to?’
‘I don’t deal in what ifs or unknowns. I deal with reality, and this is my reality. And yours too, Leonora. Or are you going to tell me your engagement to Sanchez was born out of emotion or desire?’
Leonora flushed. ‘No, of course not.’
She felt exposed, and tense. He knew full well she hadn’t slept with Lazaro.
A sense of something that felt like hurt compelled her to push back. ‘What makes you think I’m available? Just because I agreed to marry Lazaro? The other night you were reminding me that we’re bound by duty and responsibility, but maybe I want more than that. Maybe I don’t want to just become someone’s responsibility.’
Or, maybe, she realised in the same split second, she didn’t want to become Gabriel Torres’s responsibility, because already she was feeling things for him that were dangerous and disturbing.
Gabriel sat forward. ‘Are you telling me that you hadn’t agreed to let Lazaro Sanchez take responsibility for your family’s debts?’
At that moment the housekeeper came back into the room with a tray that held coffee for Gabriel and tea for Leonora.
Without taking his gaze from Leonora’s, Gabriel said, ‘We’ll take it in the lounge, thank you, Tulia.’
He stood up and Leonora followed his lead from the dining room, glad of a momentary reprieve from the growing tension.
They followed the housekeeper into another surprisingly airy room, adjacent to the dining room. Sunset was bathing everything in a pink and golden hue. The furniture was classic, elegant. Timeless.
The woman set the tray down on a coffee table between two couches.
Gabriel said, ‘Thank you, Tulia. That will be all.’
The woman left the room.
Gabriel said, ‘Please, sit down.’
Leonora hesitated for a moment, torn between telling Gabriel that she wanted to leave, so she could get out of his disturbing orbit, and the stronger pull to stay. Hear him out.
Let him seduce you again?
Leonora sat down quickly before he might see the turmoil he’d unleashed inside her. Before he could see the want. Even now, despite his disturbing proposition. Proposal.
Thankfully he sat down on the opposite couch. She felt as if she could get her breath back and gather her wits as long as he kept his distance. She picked up her cup of tea and took a sip, hoping it would ground her.
He seemed to be waiting for her to speak. It unnerved her. She hadn’t had so much focused attention on her from anyone, ever. And from a man like Gabriel Torres it was more than a little overwhelming.
She looked at him. He was sitting back, holding his tiny espresso cup in one big hand but looking no less masculine. One arm was stretched out along the couch, pulling his top tight across his tautly muscled chest.
She swallowed. Focus.
‘Why do you want to marry me when you could marry any number of far more suitable women?’
He took his arm down and sat forward. A muscle ticked in his jaw. ‘Why are you resisting my proposal when you agreed to marry a man you hadn’t even slept with?’
Leonora tensed even more—so much that she felt as if she might splinter into a million tiny pieces. It was precisely because she’d slept with Gabriel that she was resisting this proposal. Because she was still reeling after what had happened and how explosive it had been.
She put her cup down and stood up, pride stiffening her spine. ‘Maybe I should go. Just because I agreed to marry one man, it does not mean that I’m automatically going to agree to marry the next man who asks me.’
She turned, but stopped when she felt Gabriel’s hand on her arm. Gentle, but with enough force to stop her. Reluctantly she faced him, and he let her arm go. She was surprised to see an expression of humility on his face.
‘Wait—please.’
He ran a hand through his hair, mussing it up. It gave him a more approachable air. Less stern. Despite herself, Leonora felt something inside her weaken.
He said, ‘I haven’t articulated myself very well. Just hear me out...please?’
Leonora had the sense that this didn’t happen very often with a man like Gabriel. She nodded her head slightly and sat down.
He sat down again too, but sat forward, with his hands clasped between his legs. He looked at her.
‘It was not my intention to make you feel as though I thought of you as a wife for hire, based on your recent history. As I told you, there’s been pressure on me for some time to marry and start a family, but no woman has ever made me feel remotely inclined to do so—until the other night and you. Every moment in your company only makes me feel more sure that this is the right decision for both of us.’
Leonora cursed him silently. His deep mesmeric voice was drawing her in, making it all sound so reasonable. Logical.
‘You know this world, Leo, and you know how to navigate it. I think you share my disdain for it, and yet understand that we need it too. We are bound to it whether we like it or not.’
Leo. She should feel irritated by the way he’d shortened her name—only ever done by her family—but, dammit, she liked it. It felt intimate in a way that it didn’t feel with her family. Private.
‘You and your family need urgent financial help. Matías can’t afford to stay at that school for ever. And what will you do if the bank takes your castillo as payment for the debts still outstanding?’
Leonora went cold inside. ‘How do you know about Matías’s school?’
‘I know someone with a child in that school, so I know how expensive it is.’
Leonora refused to let herself feel vulnerable. ‘I’m sure if we lost everything and Matías had to come out of the school we’d manage.’
‘I don’t doubt you would. But would they? Your parents? Who have only known a life of privilege and luxury, even in spite of what’s happened? And would Matías survive without the care of special teachers and assistants? You’d
have to work—you wouldn’t be there all the time.’
Leonora knew he was right. Her parents would never survive in the real world, in a small apartment—if they were lucky enough even to get one. Neither would Matías. She had less sympathy for her parents, but Matías... She’d do anything for him. To keep him safe and secure.
Gabriel said, ‘And there’s something else you’re not acknowledging.’
His voice was lower. Seductive. Leonora really wanted to avoid his dark, knowing gaze, but she couldn’t.
She feigned nonchalance even as her skin tingled with anticipation. ‘What’s that?’
She knew, though.
She knew with every gathering rush of heat that pulsed through her body.
‘We want each other.’
Just that. Stark. To the point.
‘I don’t like to play games, Leonora, life is too short.’
‘And believe me,’ he said, ‘that’s as solid a reason as any to embark on marriage. We have social compatibility and mutual chemistry. A powerful combination.’
Not really understanding why she felt such a need to resist his pull, Leonora said, ‘But it won’t last—it never does, does it? And what then?’
Gabriel raised a brow. ‘This wasn’t a concern of yours when you agreed to marry Sanchez? A man you hadn’t even slept with?’
Leonora stood up abruptly, feeling cornered. She paced away to a window that took in the expanse of the castillo’s impressive back lawn. She was being a total hypocrite—she knew she was. And she was deluding herself. She did know why she was resisting his pull. But how could she explain that she had found it easier to agree to marry a man she hadn’t been intimate with, who she hadn’t even wanted, than this man, with whom she had been intimate and who she did want, with a hunger that made her feel so many things it was overwhelming?
She realised that Gabriel was infinitely more disturbing to her on so many levels because he affected not only her equilibrium, physically, but also her emotions. She’d grown up in a world where you kept your emotions hidden behind a polite front.
Her parents had never really approved of Leonora and Matías’s affectionate relationship. But Matías didn’t understand about keeping his emotions hidden and Leonora loved him for that. When her parents had sent Matías to the special school they’d told her that it was because he was becoming too attached to her. Too dependent. She’d always felt guilty that her need for his uncomplicated love and affection was the reason he’d been sent away, and while she knew now that he’d been sent away for lots of other reasons, to do with his own self-development in the right environment, she still felt guilty about that need in her for emotional sustenance. As if it was a weakness.
And that was why Gabriel scared her. Because he touched on those needs and wants inside her. That was why it had been easy to say yes to Lazaro. Because he hadn’t disturbed her emotions on any level...
* * *
Gabriel looked at Leonora’s graceful, willowy form. She oozed elegance in spite of the tense lines of her body. She was perfect. For him. For his life. And yet she resisted.
Irritation spiked in his gut when he thought of how she’d been willing to marry Sanchez with far less to go on.
He stood up and walked over to stand beside her. Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest. The irritation got stronger.
Before he could stop himself he said, ‘Were you in love with Sanchez? Is that what this is about?’
She turned to look at him and he saw shock on her face. ‘No! How can you even ask that? You really think I would have slept with you if I’d loved him?’
Gabriel didn’t like the way her words soothed something jagged inside him. Jealousy.
She bit her lip. ‘I just... I’m ashamed to admit it now, but I think I found it easier to make a commitment to him because it felt like a sterile business agreement. It’s not as if I’m under any illusions. I know that people like us have to marry for reasons that are far removed from love...but I hadn’t expected that I would...want my husband.’
Gabriel clenched his hand into a fist by his side to avoid reaching out to touch her. She reminded him of a nervy foal. Ready to bolt at the slightest sound.
‘Is that such a bad thing?’
She looked at him and her eyes were dark pools of grey, searching his as if for answers. ‘Maybe not...’
Gabriel took a step closer. ‘Let me show you how it can be, Leo...’
Despite the turmoil in her head and her gut Leonora didn’t move when Gabriel took a step closer. Close enough to touch. Her traitorous body craved his. Part of her wanted him to convince her, show her again how he could transport her. Transform her.
He was going to convince her to acquiesce—and, heaven help her, she was going to let him.
Desperately, at the last moment, she tried to assure herself that she wasn’t saying yes yet. She was just allowing him to...to persuade her. But as his hands cupped her face and his mouth landed on hers she knew she was lying to herself.
She’d already made her decision and it was based on many logical reasons—everything he’d outlined. But it was also based on illogical reasons—reasons that had to do with motivations that came from a far more secret place. A place where she harboured dreams that she’d be a fool to believe a man like Gabriel would be able to fulfil.
Dreams of a happy marriage—of an old couple walking hand in hand together after a long life lived in love...
But he was kissing her now, and all those dreams dissolved under his hot touch.
When her legs no longer felt capable of holding her up Gabriel lifted her against his chest and carried her through the vast and echoing castillo, with the weight of history all around them, into his bedroom.
He undressed her. Undid her belt and pulled it off. Opened the buttons of her dress and pushed it apart, baring her to his gaze before tugging it over her shoulders and down her arms. Then undid her bra, releasing her breasts to his hands and mouth.
He laid her on his bed and pulled down her panties, pushed apart her legs and tortured her with his mouth until she was gripping the sheets and trembling with the effort it took not to shatter. But of course he wouldn’t allow her that mercy, and he pushed her until she came in great shuddering waves, against his mouth.
And then, when she was still pulsating and dizzy from that shattering peak, he wound her up again, demonstrating the ease with which he could manipulate her. He thrust into her, stealing her breath and robbing her rational mind of any last coherent thought. He wound her higher and higher, until she was thrashing under him, begging, pleading for mercy.
And that was the moment when he stopped and said, ‘Look at me, Leo...look at me.’
She forced her blurry vision to take him in, and it was a majestic sight as he reared over her, his body embedded in hers, every muscle straining with the effort it took not to let go. His face was flushed. Eyes burning.
Her whole body was poised on the precipice—one more thrust and she’d be set free. But he wasn’t moving. She raised her hips but he pulled back. She scowled at him and he smiled wickedly. She was laid bare. Exposed. Nowhere to hide. And yet she felt a measure of power, the same power she’d experienced the first night they were together. A very feminine power.
Gabriel’s body trembled against hers with the effort it was taking him to stop moving, over her, in her, and that gave her some solace.
And then he said, ‘What do you want?’
His question got to her, breaking some last vestige of resistance. She suspected he was asking something deeper than just if she wanted release, but her brain was too melted to study it.
‘You...’ she said brokenly. ‘I want you, Gabriel.’
For a moment he still didn’t move. And then, just when she was about to beg him to release her from the tension, and from his too intense gaze, he finally moved, and with
a broken cry she soared into bliss.
It was raw and visceral and she suspected that she’d just acquiesced to everything he’d asked of her without even saying yes.
* * *
The next morning when Leonora woke she felt deeply sated and at peace. It took a long moment for her to figure out where she was and why she was feeling like this. Then it all rushed back.
The proposal.
Making love.
She shivered under the thin sheet. ‘Making love’ sounded so...so benign, when it had felt more like breaking her apart and putting her back together in a new configuration.
She was alone in the room. She looked around it in the early morning light. It was surprisingly bare—not unlike the bedroom in Gabriel’s apartment in the city. Like the man—no frills or flounces or flowery words. Just direct words like I want you, or A proposal of marriage.
Leonora got out of bed, afraid that Gabriel might appear at any moment and find her feeling so raw. She pulled on a robe that had been laid at the end of the bed—considerate—and went into the bathroom.
She looked at herself in the mirror, expecting to see a bedraggled mess. But her eyes were shining and her cheeks still had vestiges of pink in them. She cursed herself. Betrayed by her own body. She paced back and forth, knowing that Gabriel would be expecting an answer when she saw him again.
She sent up silent thanks that he hadn’t extracted an answer from her in the throes of passion last night. She would have said anything not to have him stop his particular brand of passionate sorcery.
He made her feel as alive as she’d ever felt and he also made her feel scared. Scared for herself. For her heart. The heart she’d hidden for so long and the heart that longed for more than she’d witnessed growing up.
A little voice popped into her head: Maybe a family can give you that if Gabriel can’t?
