Honor-Bound Groom

by Yvonne Lindsay

  By the time Giselle returned to the office he was entrenched in his work. He lifted his head only briefly when she came in with some papers.

  “I hope Loren didn’t mind I couldn’t be there to greet her. Is she all settled now at the castillo?” he asked, scoring his signature across the letters she leaned over to place on his desk.

  “Of course she minded you weren’t there. Wouldn’t any woman?”

  Giselle laughed, but he noticed her smile did not quite reach her eyes.

  Her fragrance, as heady and sensual as the woman herself, wove around him. But rather than the usual reaction it evoked in him—an anticipation of pleasurable things to come—he was reminded instead of the contrast between his assistant’s overt sexuality and Loren’s more subtle blend of allure. For some perverse reason, the latter was now far more appealing.

  “And yes, in answer to your question, I made sure she was completely comfortable in her suite,” Giselle answered. “Although she did seem very weary from her travel.”

  “Too tired for the dinner with Abuelo tonight, do you think?”

  “Well, obviously I can’t speak for her but, yes, she did look rather shattered. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if she slept all the way through until morning.”

  Alex furrowed his brow in a frown. Until morning? That wouldn’t do. Abuelo was looking forward to renewing his acquaintance with the daughter of the man who’d been his son’s best friend for so many years. An edge of irritation slid under his skin at the thought that Loren would prefer to sleep rather than spend the evening with him. Alex had planned to present her with the del Castillo betrothal ring tonight. The official seal of their engagement. He huffed out a breath.

  “Well, she’s just going to have to find her strength from somewhere. The dinner is far too important to postpone.”

  He missed the subtle curve of Giselle’s mouth as he voiced his frustration.

  “She probably will benefit from a few good meals, Alex. She does look rather…frail,” Giselle commented as she collected the papers off his desk and turned to go back to her desk in the outer office.

  “Frail?”

  Alex frowned again. Certainly Loren was very slightly built, but in his arms he’d felt the strength and suppleness of her body. Plus, he’d witnessed firsthand her mental determination.

  “Appearances can be deceptive,” he concluded. “She will be fine, I’m sure.”

  “Would you like me to make sure she’s ready for the dinner tonight?”

  “No, Giselle, that won’t be necessary, but thank you.”

  “No problem.” His assistant smiled in return before closing his door behind her.

  Alex sat staring at the door for some time, comparing the disparities between the two women. Aside from the obvious physical differences—Giselle’s lush femininity versus Loren’s more gamine appearance—they were worlds apart in other matters. While Giselle tended to be exactly what she appeared to be, and wasn’t afraid to say exactly what she wanted, Loren had hidden strengths. The way she’d dealt with her mother’s objections being a case in point. The phrase “still waters run deep” had been designed with someone like Loren in mind, he was sure.

  Had he done the right thing? He pinched the bridge of his nose in an attempt to alleviate the throbbing headache that had begun behind his eyes. He had to have made the right choice. To have done anything else was unacceptable. Loren had all the credentials—from her bloodlines right down to her experience within the milieu where he moved socially. This marriage between them would work. She was everything he needed in a wife and he would do whatever he had to in order to be what she needed in a husband.

  The late-afternoon sun slanted like a blush of color across the golden brick of the castillo as he approached. A wry smile tweaked at Alex’s lips as he realized just how much he took for granted that the medieval stronghold, in his family for centuries, was indeed his home.

  While still remaining true to the age-old architecture and the style so typical of the island, the interior had been modernized to make for very comfortable living. Several del Castillo families could, and had in the past, share the various apartments the castillo offered for private family living, if desired. Despite that, his brothers had chosen to make their own homes elsewhere on the island—Reynard in a luxurious city apartment overlooking the sparkling harbor of Isla Sagrado’s main city, Puerto Seguro, and Benedict in a modern home clinging to the hillside overlooking the del Castillo vineyard and winery.

  He understood why they each felt the need to carve out their own space but he still missed their presence around the castillo, for all the rare time he spent at home these days. Between himself and Abuelo there was a great deal of space to fill. A little more of the castillo had been filled today because Loren was inside right at that moment—waiting for him. Something about the thought of his bride-to-be newly settled in his home made it all abruptly real to Alex. After all the planning, she was finally here. In a few weeks, she would be his wife. And hopefully, in the not-too-distant future, the building would fill with the sounds of children again. His children. The thought made something deep inside him swell.

  It would be good for Abuelo to be distracted from the rigors of growing old by the prospect of amusing the next generation of del Castillos. He had a wealth of family history to share. It was only right he have the opportunity to do so.

  With that thought in the forefront of his mind, Alex swept his sleek black Lamborghini through the electronic gates and inside the walls, toward the stables that had been converted to a multicar garage thirty years ago. In minutes he was on the large curved stone staircase leading to the next floor, which housed the private suites of family rooms. Loren’s was close to his own and he hesitated at her door, his hand poised to knock.

  Something stayed his hand, and he let his fingers curl instead around the intricately carved heavy brass handle of her door. It lifted smoothly, gaining him entrance. He would have to speak to her later about keeping her door locked. While the castillo’s security was advanced, paparazzi were not above masquerading as one of the many staff, or even bribing them, in an attempt to get the latest scoop on the family.

  Long silent strides on the thickly carpeted floor led him to her bedroom. There, sprawled across the covers, lay his future bride. Every nerve in his body surged to life as he observed her, arms and limbs askew, hair spread like a dark cloud around her head. There should be a childlike innocence about her, he thought, yet instead there was only the lure of her female form.

  Small breasts pressed in perfect mounds against the fine cotton of the T-shirt she’d obviously chosen to sleep in. And only the T-shirt, he observed, keeping himself grimly in check even as he feasted on the sight of the faint outline of her nipples against the well-washed fabric. He tore his eyes from their gentle peaks and instead gazed upon the long slender length of her legs. Not one of his most sensible decisions, he thought as a heated pulse beat low in his groin.

  One of her arms curved up and over her pillow, the other was flung out to one side, her unadorned hand curled like a delicate shell.

  Alex dropped to his knees at her bedside and leaned over the mattress. He felt the warmth radiating from her, as if it were a tangible thing, as his lips hovered over the softness of her palm. Then he bent his head and pressed his lips against the fleshy mound at the base of her thumb, the tip of his tongue sweeping across its surface to taste her skin.

  Loren’s fingers curled to cup his cheek and he sensed the precise moment she emerged from her slumber. Heard the sharp intake of breath through her lush pink lips. Saw the awareness flare in her eyes as her lids flashed open.

  “Alex?”

  Her voice was drugged with the residue of sleep yet its huskiness sent a lance of pure heat cutting through his body, provoking him to full, aching arousal. Right now he wanted nothing more than to sink onto the soft mattress with her, to envelop her in his arms and to taste all the delights her body had to offer. But he’d already promised
to wait until their wedding night and they would be expected amongst company very soon. He forced his unwilling flesh to cooperate and gently pulled away from her touch.

  “I know you’re tired, but you must begin to ready yourself for dinner tonight.”

  “Dinner?”

  She sounded confused. Surely Giselle had informed her of this evening’s expectations.

  “Yes, dinner. My grandfather looks forward to welcoming you back home.”

  He averted his gaze as she pushed herself upright and sat with her legs crossed beneath her. The creamy skin of her thighs and the shadowed hollow he knew lay at their apex, just beyond the hem of her shirt, were pure torment as he imagined touching her softness and delving into the hidden flesh there.

  Arousal flared anew, this time even more demanding than before. But Loren’s next words, delivered with an unmistakable note of challenge, doused his ardor as quickly as it had flamed into searing life.

  “And you? Do you also welcome me home, Alex?”

  Three

  He fought back the flare of irritation that swelled inside him at her words. Was she criticizing him for not having been at the airport to welcome her? Giselle’s insinuation echoed in the back of his mind. He fought for an edge of control, reminding himself she was no doubt still overtired from her journey and perhaps still wearing her disappointment he wasn’t there to welcome her in person.

  “Ah, I see you are still upset I was not at the airport to greet you. I thought Giselle explained why I could not be there.”

  “Oh yes, she explained.” Loren unfolded her legs, threw them over the edge of the bed and rose to her full height.

  Barefoot, the top of her head barely even reached his shoulder, and dressed as she was she gave an almost childlike impression. But there was nothing childlike in her demeanor, nor in the very female brand of dissatisfaction reflected in her eyes. He was reminded of the times he’d upset his mother. Never one to raise her voice, she’d only needed a look such as this to put him in his place.

  “I would have been there if I could.” Alex softened his tone. He should have made more effort to be at the arrival hall. He realized that now. He’d tried to make things easier for both of them, but instead he’d made matters worse. Still, the situation wasn’t beyond salvaging and now he was determined to recover as much ground as possible.

  “I have been looking forward to seeing you this evening,” he said, his voice low.

  He saw pleasure light her eyes and felt an inner relief as her full lips curved into a smile.

  “So have I,” she said shyly, dropping her gaze.

  “So, you will dress for dinner and come down to share our repast?”

  “Of course I will. I’m sorry I was a bit cranky. I’m never at my best when I first wake.”

  Alex allowed his mouth to relax into a smile. “I’ll make a special note to remember that for after we’re married.”

  She laughed, a delicious liquid sound that penetrated the last remnants of his temper and scattered them to the corners of the room.

  “It might pay to.” She smiled. “Now, tonight. What time and where? I’m assuming your family still dresses for dinner?”

  She must have been half-asleep already when Giselle told her, he decided.

  “Yes, we change for dinner. We meet for drinks in the salon usually about eight and dine at nine. Late, I know, if you aren’t used to it anymore.”

  “Oh, don’t worry, I’ll acclimate. Will you take me down?”

  “You no longer remember where the salon is?” He cocked a brow at her.

  “Of course, I don’t imagine the castillo has changed all that much. I just…” She worried her lower lip with perfect white teeth. “No, don’t worry. I’ll meet you there at eight.”

  Alex dropped a chaste kiss on Loren’s upturned face and moved away before the disappointment he sensed in her encouraged him to take more. Now that she was here and they were on the verge of achieving his goal of settling the governess’s curse, there was no need to rush into anything. There would be plenty of time to kiss her the way he wanted—after they were married.

  “Good girl. I’ll see you there.”

  Loren watched her door close behind Alex’s back and she fought the urge to stomp her foot in frustration. Now she was here he’d reverted to treating her like a child. Gone was the attentive lover who’d wooed her back in New Zealand. In his place was the old Alex she remembered so well. Slightly indulgent and full of the importance of his role as eldest son.

  Well, she’d show him she was no infant to be coddled. Her body still hummed with her reaction to the soft kiss he’d pressed in her palm to wake her. Just one small caress and she’d shot to full wakefulness, her joy in seeing him only to be dashed by his reminder of her duty to be at some formal dinner tonight.

  She knew they still adhered to the old ways, ways she’d taken for granted until moving to New Zealand with its more casual approach to lifestyle and mealtimes, but she’d hoped for a private dinner with her new fiancé. It wasn’t so much to have expected, was it? Surely Alex’s grandfather would have granted them this first night alone together?

  There was nothing for it now, though, she reminded herself as the chime from an antique ormolu clock in her sitting room chimed the half hour. She had to fulfill Alex’s expectations. At least she knew she’d have fun catching up with his brothers. As for Alex, well, maybe she’d punish him a little for not pressing to have kept her to himself tonight. She had just the perfect outfit in there. She’d bought it with Alex’s reaction to her very firmly in mind.

  She looked about her room for her suitcases and was surprised to see them gone. A quick look in her dressing room solved her problem as she espied her clothing already unpacked and hung neatly on hangers or folded away in the built-in drawers. She must have been totally out of it not to have heard the maid come in and see to her things.

  She quickly filtered through the selection of dresses she’d bought, her hand settling on the rich red silk organza cocktail dress she wanted to wear tonight. The bodice was scattered with tiny faceted beads that caught the light and emphasized her small bust, while the layers of fabric that fell from the empire line below her breasts had a floating effect that made her feel as though she was the most elegant creature on the planet. Not a feeling she embraced often, Loren admitted silently.

  She laid the dress on her bed and chose a pair of stiletto-heeled sandals in silver to wear with it.

  “And if that’s not dressed up enough for dinner, then nothing will do,” she said out loud.

  She made her way into her bathroom and took a moment to appreciate the elegant fixtures. The deep claw-foot bath beckoned to her but she knew she had little time left to get ready. She wondered briefly why Alex had acted as if she should have known all along about the dinner tonight. Perhaps Giselle had meant to tell her and had forgotten. Although Loren suspected that Giselle forgot very little indeed.

  No, it must have been an oversight somewhere along the line. What with all the paparazzi at the airport, it was something that could easily have slipped Giselle’s mind. She was prepared to be charitable. After all, she was finally home. Back on Isla Sagrado. Back with Alex.

  She hummed happily to herself as she took a brief and refreshing shower. After toweling herself dry with a deliciously soft, fluffy bath sheet that virtually encased her from head to foot, she swept up her hair into a casual chignon and applied her makeup with a light hand. She studied her appearance for a moment then decided to emphasize her eyes a little more and to apply a slick of ruby-red gloss to match her dress. With the strength of color of her dress she’d disappear if she didn’t vamp things up a bit, even if she normally only wore the bare minimum of cosmetics. Finally satisfied with her smoky eyes and glossy lips, she reached for a clean pair of panties and then slipped into her gown.

  Loren loved the shimmer of the fabric as it brushed over her skin. The tiny shoestring straps and the low back of the dress made it impossible to wear
a bra, but the beading hid any evidence that she was braless. She slid her feet into the high-heeled sandals and bent to do up the ankle straps before checking herself in the antique cheval mirror in her room.

  Yes, she’d do nicely for her first meal at home with the del Castillo men, and for whoever else might be joining them. She wondered whether either Reynard or Benedict would have companions for the evening. Both of Alex’s brothers’ eligible bachelor status led them to be featured highly in magazines even as far away as New Zealand, and she doubted either of them would have far to look to find company.

  A quick look at the clock on the bedroom mantelpiece projected her through her suite and out the main door into the corridor to the main stairs. She was grateful for the ornate carpet runner because she had no doubt her heels would have caught on the ancient flagstones beneath it as she hurried down the stairs.

  For a moment the sense of longevity about the castillo seeped through her. How many del Castillo brides had traversed this very path to their betrothed over the centuries, and how many of those marriages had been as happy as she hoped hers and Alex’s would be? She shook her head a little, chiding herself for being fanciful as a sudden weight of expectation settled upon her shoulders. A small chilled shudder ran down her spine, as if she was being watched—judged, even.

  Loren hesitated on the stairs and looked around her, but of course there was nothing there but the gallery of portraits of successive heads of the family over the past many years. She injected a little more urgency in her step as she reached the bottom of the staircase and headed to where she remembered the salon to be.

  The murmur of deep male voices, punctuated by the sound of laughter, was comforting as she approached the room where Alex had said to meet. Loren quashed the lingering effects of the sense of disquiet that had hit her earlier and focused instead on the prospect of an evening with the man she’d loved for as long as she could remember. Nothing could go wrong now, nothing. Her life was finally what she’d always dreamed it would be.