by Abby Green
‘Yes. I’m getting married this weekend.’
Leonora ignored the way the stylist paled slightly. She recovered herself and said, ‘Very good. Please, come with me across the road to our bridal selection and we’ll see what we have there. Luckily you’ll fit most sample sizes.’
Leonora smiled weakly, following the woman across the road to another exclusive boutique. The stylist looked her up and down critically and Leonora said quickly, ‘I don’t want anything fussy. It’s not that kind of wedding.’
What kind of wedding is it, then? a snarky inner voice prompted.
She ignored it.
The stylist disappeared behind a rack of voluminous dresses and Leonora called out, ‘Honestly, the more simple the better. In fact maybe it could just be...’
The words died on her lips when the woman reappeared, holding a long dress under protective covering. ‘Let’s try this, shall we? And go from there.’
Afterwards, when Leonora was changing back into her clothes, she had to admire the skill of the stylist. They hadn’t had to go anywhere after that first, perfect dress. Leonora scowled at that. She didn’t want a perfect dress. She wasn’t like other wide-eyed brides, believing in love and happy-ever-after. Her marriage was a business transaction, pure and simple. Gabriel was going to provide a dowry to save her family and she would bear him heirs to continue his line.
So why, when she had stood on the raised dais in the shop and looked in the mirror, had she felt ridiculously emotional?
Was it because she knew it was the perfect dress for a real wedding? Because in spite of everything she wished this was a real wedding?
Just because she trusted Gabriel Torres, she’d be a monumental fool to hope that trust would become something more substantial. If anything, what he’d told her about his parents only gave her more insight into why he was so self-contained. He’d had to learn from a young age to depend on himself. At no point had he mentioned love, wanting it or needing it.
She was still feeling a little raw when she walked back into the main area of the wedding boutique, and she wasn’t at all prepared to see Gabriel sitting on one of the dusky pink chairs, reading a newspaper. He should have looked ridiculously out of place, but of course he didn’t.
He looked up when she emerged, and immediately he frowned, standing up. ‘What is it? Did something happen?’
She realised she must be still scowling and she forced a smile. ‘Nothing is wrong. Everything is...fine.’
The stylist came out behind her, immediately fawning. ‘Señor Torres, what an honour. Is there anything we can get for you?’
He glanced at the stylist, and then back at Leonora, a small smile playing around his mouth, as if he knew exactly the turmoil he caused in her heart and her gut and it amused him. She fought not to scowl again.
The stylist was saying, ‘Purchases can be delivered to wherever you like.’
He said, ‘Have everything but the wedding dress delivered to my castillo. After all, that’s where you’ll be living from next week—isn’t that right, querida?’
Leonora felt dizzy at that reminder. But she refused to show it.
She went over and slipped her arm through his. ‘Yes, of course it is, mi amor.’ She wanted to see him as off-balance as she felt.
His jaw clenched, but instead of feeling a sense of satisfaction that she’d got to him, all she felt was an ache near her heart.
He thanked the stylist and then took Leonora’s hand in his, entwining his fingers with hers, and led her out of the boutique to the street. She slipped on her sunglasses, wanting some kind of armour against Gabriel.
He stopped outside the shop and looked at her. ‘You weren’t lying when you said you didn’t like the idea of me buying you clothes.’
Leonora’s heart thumped. ‘It’s not that. I’m very grateful—and I know I have to maintain a certain standard. I’ve just got used to doing without all the fuss and anxiety about what’s fashionable and what’s not...’
He made a non-committal sound and then he said, ‘There’s one more place I need to take you.’
He was walking down the street at a brisk pace before she could ask him where they were going. She saw women doing double-takes—men too, for that matter—as they cut through the shoppers. Leonora felt dowdy in her jeans and plain shirt and suddenly lamented that fact, in spite of her words to Gabriel. Right now she wished she was wearing something more flattering. And her hair was still in a rough bun, after the stylist had asked her to put it up to see how the veil would look.
‘Where are we going?’ She hoped it wasn’t somewhere too public.
‘My bank.’
Leonora rolled her eyes behind her glasses. Only someone like Gabriel could actually say my bank and literally mean his bank. The bank that he owned.
The ornate façade of Banco Torres, one of Spain’s oldest financial institutions, used mainly now as an investment bank, rose up before them at the end of the street. And Leonora couldn’t help but be intimidated as they went through the revolving door into the hushed exclusivity of the marble foyer. Classical statues were dotted around the space. Huge paintings hung on the walls. Presumably Gabriel’s ancestors.
A woman approached them, beautiful and sleek in a dark suit. ‘Señor Torres, the item you requested is ready in the vault.’
‘Thank you.’
Still holding Leonora’s hand, Gabriel led her over to where a uniformed security guard was holding an elevator for them. They got in and it went down to the basement level. They were met there by another sleek employee, male this time. He led them through open steel doors and into a long room filled with security boxes. There was a box on the table, and after unlocking it he left them alone.
Gabriel said, ‘This is the family vault.’
Leonora looked around. ‘Oh...’ Their family vault had been cleaned out by her father.
Gabriel let her hand go and went over to the box, opening it up. He lifted out a tray and laid it down in front of Leonora. She sucked in a breath. It was a tray full of sparkling rings. Antique rings. Sapphires, rubies, diamonds.
‘These rings have belonged to Cruz y Torres brides down through the generations. But if you don’t like any of these we can buy a new one.’
Leonora shook her head faintly. As much at the thought of the unnecessary expense as because one ring in particular had immediately caught her eye. It wasn’t as ornate as the others. It was much plainer. And yet it stood out.
It was an emerald cut diamond in a gold setting, with a detail of three smaller diamonds either side of the main stone. Classic and elegant.
Gabriel must have seen where her gaze was resting and he picked it out, holding it up. ‘This one?’
She looked at him and nodded reluctantly, feeling like a fraud.
He took her hand and said, ‘Let’s see if it fits.’
Leonora held her breath as he slid the ring onto her finger. It fitted perfectly. She felt a shiver go down her spine as it sparkled up at her benignly.
‘This ring belonged to my great-grandmother, actually. My father’s grandmother. Apparently her marriage to my great-grandfather was a rare love-match. She died at the age of eighty, and he died less than a week later of a broken heart. Or so they say.’
Leonora looked at Gabriel suspiciously but he didn’t look mischievous. He looked serious.
He said, ‘This isn’t a love-match, Leo—you do know that, don’t you? We have insane chemistry...but that’s just desire. I’m not denying that it’s a boon for our marriage, but that’s all it is. A boon. The important things are our compatibility and the fact that we come from the same world. We both want a different life for our children. But as for love... It’s not something I’ve ever really hoped for or believed in. Sweet stories about my great-grandparents are just...fairy-tales.’
She pulled her hand back, the rin
g feeling heavy on her finger now. ‘Why did you tell me about them?’
He looked at her far too assessingly. ‘Because I think you want more from this marriage. More than I’ll ever be prepared to give. And you need to know that now.’
Leonora’s insides clenched tight. Was she so transparent? She felt the weight of the ring, the cold of the precious metal against her skin. He wasn’t telling her anything she didn’t already know, but her treacherous heart was shrinking in her chest at his words. In spite of everything, she had hoped for more.
She forced all emotion out of her voice. ‘I know what’s expected just as much as you do. I’ve never been under any illusions about what marriage means for me. Do I need to remind you that if the announcement of my engagement hadn’t been so rudely interrupted I would be engaged to Lazaro Sanchez right now?’
His expression darkened. He moved closer. ‘Do not mention that man’s name again.’
Leonora tipped up her chin. ‘I’ve known you intimately for less than a week—do you really think mere sex would turn my head so much that I’d forget a lifetime’s lessons and start believing in fairy-tales?’
Gabriel looked at the woman in front of him. She was wearing a plain button-down shirt. He could see a hint of the lace of her bra. She wore faded jeans. Not a scrap of make-up. Her hair was up in a messy knot. She could pass for a student, and yet she had the innately regal grace that belied her lineage.
She was also the most exquisitely beautiful woman he’d ever seen. And every moment he thought he could read her, or figure her out, she slipped through his fingers like quicksilver.
The ring sparkled on her finger in his peripheral vision and something about that was immensely satisfying. Even though he still felt the spike of irritation at hearing her mention Lazaro Sanchez’s name. Just the thought that she might possibly be with that man was enough to make Gabriel reach for her, tugging her into him so their bodies were flush.
‘It’s not mere sex—it happens to be amazing sex,’ he said in a low, rough voice, already feeling the inevitable rush of blood to his groin.
Colour tinged her cheeks. ‘We can’t—not here.’ She put her hands on his chest.
Gabriel clenched his jaw. She was right. As much as he’d love to turn her around, pull those provocative jeans down and bury himself inside her, he wasn’t about to be the first of his line to desecrate the family vault in such a carnal manner. The fact that this behaviour was also totally out of character was something he didn’t want to investigate.
‘My apartment is less than five minutes from here.’
Leonora desperately wanted to pull back and say something cool, nonchalant. She still stung inside from his warning not to fall for him. But the sting was melting under the rush of blood to every nerve-ending. And she realised that she’d never felt so alive. Fizzing.
She was not a spontaneous person, and she wouldn’t have figured Gabriel to be one either. But she was suddenly filled with an urge to unsettle him as he did her every time he looked at her. So she moved her hands down his chest to his waist and then cupped the growing bulge under his trousers.
Instantly his eyes flared with surprise and he sucked in a breath. ‘Witch...you’ll pay for this.’
Leonora smiled, even though she knew that every time she savoured a small victory like this she was fooling herself if she thought Gabriel’s warning would serve as a deterrent. Nothing could save her from herself.
* * *
The thing that struck Gabriel most on the morning of his wedding was the equanimity he felt. He’d always imagined that on his wedding day he’d be suffocating with claustrophobia and chafing at the demise of his freedom.
But he wasn’t feeling any of those things. He was feeling impatient.
Leonora was ten minutes late. And, while he knew that was traditional, this was hardly a traditional wedding, with only a handful of guests in the Cruz y Torres family church in the grounds of the castillo.
He’d managed to drag his mother back from the tropical luxury outpost where she was conducting her latest affair. His father was beside her, glowering. A parody of a united front.
All the more reason why Gabriel felt sure that Leonora was right for him. They wanted the same things for their children. A more holistic upbringing. They had respect and compatibility and that insane chemistry.
He shifted uncomfortably in his morning suit, recalling his totally out-of-character behaviour the other day—taking her back to his apartment mid-afternoon, where they’d lost themselves in a mutual frenzy of need. He couldn’t remember feeling that desperate even when he’d been a hormone-fuelled teenager with his first lover.
Leonora’s parents were here too. He’d talked to them the night before, when he’d hosted a dinner here at the castillo in order to meet them. He liked them. They’d been humbled by their experience and had paid a price that was disproportionate to what they’d done.
There was movement just beyond the church door and Gabriel tensed, surprised to find himself actually experiencing something that felt like...anxiety. A very unfamiliar sensation.
And then she appeared in the doorway. A graceful silhouette. Long white dress, veil obscuring her face. She was on the arm of Matías, whom she’d nominated to be her attendant. Gabriel’s sister had desperately wanted to be here, but she was on a fashion shoot in South America and logistically wouldn’t have made it in time.
Music began and they started walking down the aisle. Gabriel’s breath stopped when Leonora was revealed more fully. The dress was a plain white column—no frills or flounces or ruffles. Just straight, elegant lines, skimming her perfect figure. Long sleeves and a round neck. And yet even from here he could see how the material clung to every dip and curve.
He forced his eyes off Leonora and acknowledged Matías as they arrived at the front of the church. He shook the young man’s hand and then Matías went and stood beside his parents.
Leonora stood before Gabriel, face downbent. He willed her to look up at him. She finally did and he saw the shape of her face, the cheekbones, firm jaw. Lush mouth. Huge eyes.
‘You look...stunning.’
The priest coughed and Gabriel turned to face him—but not before he found Leonora’s hand and wrapped it in his, as if needing to touch her to make sure she was real.
* * *
Most of the wedding ceremony was a blur to Leonora. Gabriel taking her hand had been the only thing keeping her anchored to the spot as the enormity of what she was doing had sunk in when she’d reached the altar. She was committing herself to a man who would never love her. She was setting fire to all those secret hopes and dreams she’d nurtured deep inside her for years.
Somehow all this hadn’t occurred to her with Lazaro Sanchez. Because she hadn’t cared for him as she cared for Gabriel. That unwelcome realisation had made panic flutter in her chest. But then Gabriel had pulled up the veil obscuring her vision and she’d looked at him. And all she’d been able to see were those dark, fathomless eyes, and her panic had dissipated...
‘You may now kiss your bride, Señor Torres.’
It was over.
But it was only beginning.
Gabriel cupped her face and lowered his mouth to hers, so slowly and deliberately that she was quivering all over by the time he made contact. Damn him. He knew exactly how to play her.
The kiss was short, but just as devastating as if he’d pulled her close and taken it all the way to deep and explicit. When she pulled back his eyes were glittering. Until now she’d barely even taken in his steel-grey morning suit or the white cravat. It made his skin look very dark.
He took her hand again and led her back down the aisle. Leonora smiled tremulously at her parents and Matías. He was the reason she’d been late. He’d been confused by all the activity and wondering why Leonora was dressed so strangely, and he’d wanted to know what it meant that she would
now be living in this new place and not at home.
Very considerately, Gabriel had arranged for one of Matías’s favourite teachers from his school to come to the wedding so she could keep an eye on him.
Leonora sucked in big breaths of fresh air once they were outside. A professional photographer took some pictures and then they were ushered into one of the castillo’s dining rooms for the wedding breakfast.
Leonora saw her parents awkwardly conversing with Gabriel’s parents, who were looking unbearably aristocratic. As if all this was beneath them.
She had caught Gabriel’s mother looking expressly at her midsection at one point, and had realised that she must suspect that Leonora was pregnant. Well, she wasn’t. Not when she had the all too familiar cramps to prove it.
Leonora had always suffered from particularly painful periods, but it had never been diagnosed as anything but mild endometriosis. She hadn’t even considered that she might be pregnant—Gabriel had used protection every time—but she’d been surprised at the tiny dart of disappointment when her period had arrived as usual just the other day.
Was she really ready for babies? Children? The thought was alternately terrifying and awe-inspiring.
She put a hand to her belly now, as she took a sip of champagne, unconsciously easing the lingering ache of the end of her period.
The wedding breakfast was nearly over, so she was surprised when Gabriel tapped his glass and stood up. He looked down at her and then he said, ‘I would like to take this opportunity to welcome Leonora into the family, and also to welcome her parents and her brother Matías.’ He looked at her and raised his glass. ‘You’re the future of this family, Leonora—you and our children.’
He took her hand and kissed it and the dull ache inside her was forgotten. She was curiously touched by his public endorsement of her, and the welcome he’d offered to her family. But she could see that his parents didn’t totally approve, and they wasted little time in leaving once the party started to break up.
Gabriel had told Leonora that they would be leaving after the wedding for a short honeymoon—again, not something she would have expected of him, having assumed he’d waste no time in getting back to work.
