She felt so relaxed and comfortable that all thoughts of self-consciousness fled. As she lay next to Edouardo, she swirled her fingers through the hair on his chest. “You know, you rank up there with that handsome Barberini statue I showed you.” She grazed her fingernails across his skin, raising goose bumps on his arms.
“You mean that stone faun?”
“Only better.” She nodded her head. “Because the only thing rock hard on you was what needed to be.”
He laughed. “So my four-pack was good enough for you?”
“Couldn’t have been better,” she said, as she leaned over and licked his nipple just to tease him.
“Hey,” he said.
“Sorry, couldn’t resist,” she said. “Besides, I have to say I’m glad you’re not a faun. I’m only interested in nonmythical creatures inhabiting my world. I much prefer my men to be real.”
He smiled. “Your wish is my command,” he said, rolling her over and kissing her as if his life depended on it.
Her phone began to ring. “You need to get that?”
She waved it away dismissively. “I’m not expecting anyone, so let it go to voice mail.”
The two resumed kissing and groping, as Edouardo got a firm grip on Gabriella’s hips. “Ahh, I’ve been waiting to do this,” he said. “Just right for my hands to hold on tight.”
She laughed. “That’s the first time I’ve ever heard them described as a positive attribute,” she said. “Maybe I should get that on videotape for future morale boosting.”
Her voice mail dinged, just as her text message alert rang aloud. She frowned. “Who is in such a hurry to get hold of me?” She reached over to the nightstand for her phone and opened it up. It was easiest to check the text message, so she scrolled to the latest one:
“Gab, it’s me. Matthew. We need to talk, baby. I’ve just been crazy without you. I need you back in my life. Call me, please? I LOVE YOU, Matt”
Well, shit. Talk about an unwanted intruder in your life.
Gabriella reached across Edouardo’s chest, pulling him toward her. “Now, where were we?” she said as she planted her lips on his, the only distraction she wanted in her life at this point.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Well, crap. Talk about muddying up the waters, Gabriella thought as she listened to Matthew’s voice mail.
She had woken to an empty bed just a little while earlier. Which she could have taken as an insult, but instead chose to interpret as no slight at all. Maybe Edouardo just had to get back home, for whatever reason. Maybe he had his own things to work out. Maybe it wasn’t him ditching her, but him just going home. Period. This was the story she was going to tell herself, even as she fought those monsters that told her yet again she was going to be abandoned. Only this time, she wasn’t going to succumb to the negative thoughts and she wasn’t going to reach for the chocolate éclairs to tamp down her sadness. She was going to take her experience with Edouardo at face value.
After all, his actions had spoken volumes to her all night long. And those moves of his were pretty damned amazing. The man knew his way around a woman, no doubt about it, and left Gabriella satisfied and contented. The only thing that disrupted those refreshing sensations was the unexpected message from Matthew.
“I realize I was a fool. I love you and I need you in my life.” What the ever-loving hell?
The thing is, the distance an ocean provided Gabriella had only served to reinforce that maybe her engagement to Matthew had been a bit of a mistake in the first place. Perhaps she’d been more smitten with the idea that a man wanted her enough to marry her than she was truly prepared to marry the man. Only now, with the distance of a little time and several thousand miles was she ready to admit that after the previous unexpected heartbreak caused by Giovanni, it had felt damned good to have a man dote on her and, well, just pursue her like he wanted her.
Of course she loved Matthew. But her willingness to abandon him was a sure sign that perhaps it wasn’t the kind of permanent love a marriage would need to survive. So maybe by choosing work over Gabriella, Matthew had done her a huge solid: it kept her from making a mistake that would have been much harder to unravel had she gone ahead and married him.
And for this reason alone, she owed it to Matthew to respond to his entreaties. Although by text. She really didn’t want to get into a conversation with him at this point. He must have known her life was still a bit tender to expose it to his opinions, and surely he’d feel strongly about her so quickly building a new life without him.
She opened up his text and hit reply.
“Hey Matt,” she tapped onto her phone. “Good to hear from you. I hope you’re not working too hard.”
She chewed on her cuticle as she tried to frame how she would respond.
“And I’m touched by your message, really I am. But I think it’s taken me coming home to realize that you and I just weren’t meant to end up together. The time we spent meant the world to me, but I’m moving on now. I hope you’ll understand.”
She took a deep breath and hit send, marveling that she could feel so bad yet so good, all at one time.
~*~
Celeste was making crêpes in the kitchen when Gab finally came downstairs. She cocked an eyebrow at Gabriella, not saying a word as she flipped the crêpe, which landed, to Gab’s delight, on the floor.
“That’ll teach you to insinuate all sorts of things with just the cynical arch of your eyebrow,” she said, leaning over to pick up the thin pancake just as Butterball swooped in to gobble it up.
“Who, me?” Celeste said with a wide grin, pouring batter into the pan. “Far be it from me to want to know what happened between you and your boyfriend last night.”
Gabriella rolled her eyes. “Stop!”
Her sister flipped another crêpe, this time successfully. “Well, the good news is with a house that was built a couple hundred years ago, the walls are pretty thick,” she said. “So I didn’t have to listen to you two. But I did happen to hear a car pulling out early this morning and the driver looked suspiciously like the man who picked you up for dinner last night. Only with bedhead.” She started laughing as she shook the crêpe onto a plate, which Gab promptly took.
“Hey! That’s my breakfast!”
“Not anymore,” she said, stuffing it onto her mouth, not even bothering to layer it with the cut strawberries and whipped cream that waited for it.
“Just for that you have to confess.”
Gab shook her head. “I do not kiss and tell.”
Her sister pouted, jutting out her lower lip in protestation. “Aww, come on, sis. I’ve been rooting for you on the sidelines. Surely you can tell me if your team won!”
Gab had to laugh at that one. Her team won, all right. And won, then won some more. Her victory march tallied probably five wins in one night. Not bad...
“Okay, so I can give you vague information, but nothing detailed.”
Her sister rolled her eyes. “Which is good because I don’t want to know the size of the man’s dick in case you marry him someday,” she said with a laugh. “Like I could never look at him over Christmas dinner again without thinking about that. So thanks for sparing me the minutia.”
“But it’s not minute,” Gab said, poking her sister in the ribs with her elbow. She held up her hands, spread apart by a good foot. “It’s huge.”
“Stop,” Celeste said. “No size references!”
“I’m just playing with you, Celeste,” she said. “In all seriousness, we had a great time. We went to the Grotto Castello, which is a dining experience all on its own. But then to be with Edouardo...” She sort of laid her head back and smiled dreamily.
“You’re close to swooning, you know.”
“Impossible. I don’t swoon.”
“So what is it you call this?” She imitated her sister, as if walking about floating on air.
“You make me look like a complete weirdo,” she said.
“Shoe fits.” Celeste el
bowed her back in the ribs. “So, go over things in vague generalities rather than granular details, okay?”
Gab proceeded to fill her in on how the evening unfolded. How they ordered the same entrée just because it was a favorite dish, not to be the same. How he paid such attention to every word she said. How her particularly satisfying dessert caused them to race home for the post-dessert gratification.
“You slept with him?” Celeste said.
“Uh, of course,” Gabriella said. “Port in a storm and all that.”
“I thought you had changed your mind about that strategy,” her sister said.
“It’s complicated,” Gab said. “In truth, I didn’t end up with him just because he was there. We had a really incredible evening. We just hit it off so well. He’s sweet and thoughtful and kind and very easy on the eyes.”
“But will this be easy on your emotions?”
Gab shrugged. “Honestly, Celeste, I think I’m in a much better place now as far as that goes. I am not getting into this expecting a long-term thing. But we had fun, we’re very compatible, and well, I kind of needed to have that itch scratched, so why not?”
“In that case I’m glad for you. But just watch your heart, would ya?”
Gabriella reached for another crêpe, this time piling berries and cinnamon and sugar on before rolling it up to eat. “But speaking of broken hearts,” she said between bites, licking some sugar off her thumb, “Matthew left me a message and text in the middle of the night.”
“Your ex-fiancé, Matthew?”
“Pretty much the only person I know with that name.”
“And?”
“He wants me back. I politely texted him back ‘thanks, but no thanks.’”
“That was brave of you.”
Gab shrugged. “Maybe so. For some reason I feel like I’m just finally growing up and figuring out how to stand on my own and not need a man.”
“And by man there, do you mean Edouardo as well?”
“Definitely don’t need a man,” she said. “But willing to keep him around for the want part of that.”
Celeste went over to the refrigerator and started writing something on a notepad attached to the door.
“What are you doing?” Gabriella asked.
“Adding tissues to the grocery list,” she said. “I’m just afraid we’re gonna need them.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
It took Edouardo a good six weeks to muster up the courage to out him and Gabriella as a couple, even though they were spending much of their waking (and maybe even more sleeping) hours together. Not that everyone in their group of peers didn’t already suspect as much, but this would make it official.
It was the annual running of the Royal Cup, Monaforte’s premier horse race. Edouardo’s family always attended with the royal family, as often did Gabriella’s. This time, they’d be attending together, separate from their families, yet with all eyes on them. Not that everyone’s eyes would be on them, because, well, there were horses racing and the Queen, for that matter. But still. For a man who was emerging from a somewhat large crisis of confidence, it was a big step.
The customary attire for gentlemen guests of the Royal Enclosure was morning dress wear, and so Edouardo donned a charcoal-gray morning coat, dove-gray waistcoat, and light gray pants with a soft pink tie and the obligatory black top hat. Gabriella went with a pale pink Emilia Wickstead square-necked coatdress with pleated skirt and a matching pink broad-brimmed hat with lace trim on the underside and a large bow atop the brim, paired with suede bone-colored wedges (the better to keep your heels from sinking into the grass). As they parked in the nearby fields and walked toward the racecourse, they were surrounded by thousands of others dressed in stunning attire: women with elaborate fascinators and hats and gorgeous, colorful, elegantly appointed dresses. This event was the high point of the social scene at this time of year, and the buzz was palpable as crowds made their way to the racecourse.
They strolled past the parade ring where the Queen and Prince Enrico would make their grand entrance for the event. The perfectly manicured grass in the parade ring was radiant against the bluebird sky. It was a spectacular day to be outdoors.
“You look fantastic as always,” Edouardo said to her as they strolled past the gardens along the pebbled path that led to the entrance of the Royal Enclosure.
“You don’t look so bad yourself,” she told him, straightening his tie when they stopped in the line to enter. Inside the enclosure, they first ran into Isabella. “Look at the two of you,” she said, admiring them. “You even color-coordinated for the event.”
“Yeah, well, it turns out it wasn’t planned,” Edouardo said. “I even offered to change out my tie.”
“I refused,” Gab said. “I adore a man in a pink tie.”
“I quite like it,” Bella said. “It’s sort of like a statement that you’re together. Makes it official.”
Gab smiled. “‘Official’ works as long as we aren’t the center of attention,” she said as she kissed him on the lips. “Then all bets are off with poor Edouardo.”
“Speaking of bets being off,” Edouardo muttered as he saw Alastair and his mother approaching. Lately he’d worked hard to avoid Alastair after learning of his betrayal. At least that’s how Edouardo saw it, though Gabriella had tried to dissuade him from that theory.
“Lady Charlotte,” Gabriella said, reaching out to greet Edouardo’s mother. “Alastair, so good to see you.”
She kissed them both and they exchanged pleasantries.
“So, love,” his mother said, “it’s nice to see you’re officially out of the cave now. And you’re finally admitting to us all that you’re seriously dating our Gabriella?”
Edouardo frowned. “Out of the cave? You make me sound like I’ve come out publicly as gay.”
Gab laughed. “Silly,” she said. “That’s the closet, not the cave.”
He grunted. He so hated being interrogated about the women in his life. He’d been a fool to be so open about Eugenie and look where that got him: having to ultimately explain to every bloody damned person who asked about her that she’d ripped out his heart and practically boiled it in a pot of hot oil. It’s why he didn’t want to be front and center with everyone. Why couldn’t he just enjoy his time with Gab and everyone else stay the hell out of it?
“Mum, can we not?” he finally said.
Gab and his mother exchanged glances and his mother nodded. “No worries, sweetheart,” she said. “I just want to be sure Gabriella gets all the credit for rescuing you from your doldrums.”
“Duly noted,” he said.
Alastair put his arm around Edouardo’s shoulder. “A race is about to start,” he said. “How about we go watch it together. You always used to enjoy that.”
Edouardo shot Gab a “save me” sort of look, but instead she shooed him along, encouraging him to join his uncle. “You’ll pay for this,” he mouthed to Gabriella as Alastair escorted him toward the rails, leaving Gabriella to get a flute of champagne with his mother. He wasn’t sure which of the two of them was more doomed at the moment.
“So, Edouardo,” Alastair said. “How go the renovations?”
Edouardo thought this a silly question since Alastair knew full well how it went. It wasn’t without his oversight, after all. Edouardo was continually in contact with the man—albeit in a cowardly manner, by e-mail and text message—whenever he needed help from manor staff. He wanted to do as much as possible on his own, but it was impossible to get his land into useable condition without using the estate’s farm equipment and without the help of the many laborers who had known Edouardo since he was a small boy.
If he truly thought about it, perhaps he’d recognize that his brother was generously sharing many resources from the Weltenham estate. Though he’d more than likely say he was bloody well entitled to them. Nevertheless, everyone was working to help Edouardo become self-sufficient, but it was not an easy task and it wasn’t without much collaborativ
e effort.
“Things are fine,” Edouardo said. If Alastair had wanted elaboration, he was going to have to use some of that farm equipment to extract it from Edouardo’s now-pursed lips.
Alastair nodded. “Glad to hear,” he said. “Looks as if you’ll be ready to get a fall crop in the ground before you know it.”
“With a little luck.”
“And the house?”
Edouardo knew the house was going to take quite a while to elevate to livable status. Efforts were underway, and in a surprisingly quick turnaround time, he’d already had a new slate roof installed. So, at least, now workers could get working on the interior of the house.
They stopped along the horse walk to admire the exquisite steeds as they paraded onto the track to queue for the race. It reminded Edouardo that for the first time in many years, a Weltenham horse wasn’t running. Everything had been put on hold when his father became ill, and they weren’t able to get organized enough to race a horse this year. The thought made Edouardo sad.
Alastair put a loving hand on his shoulder. “’Douardo,” he said, his honest blue eyes fixing on Edouardo’s. “I can tell you’re ruminating on your father. I’m so sorry if this unearths your sadness again.”
Edouardo shrugged. He really didn’t want to discuss this with Alastair, of all people. It was all too complicated. He loved his father so much. But he loved Alastair too. Yet here Alastair was, betraying his father’s memory. It was too much for him to accept.
“And I’m afraid I might be piling on with what I’m about to tell you,” Alastair said. “I think you know that I love and respect your mother very much.” He looked at Edouardo, his eyes bright. “And I’d like to ask for her hand in marriage. But I want your blessing. I hope that you can search your heart and get past your anger and realize that I only want to make sure that your mother is happy. We love each other very much.”
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