Redeemed by His Stolen Bride

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Redeemed by His Stolen Bride Page 16

by Abby Green


  The urge to touch him, kiss him...make love to him was even more overwhelming.

  But she couldn’t.

  The only thing keeping her upright and able to function for the past few weeks was the block of ice in her chest. Keeping her emotions in a kind of deep freeze.

  Gabriel represented heat and pain. She couldn’t go there. Not when the time was approaching when they would file for divorce. Surely in a matter of days. Once that had happened, and she could maintain her distance from him, she would allow herself to breathe again. To feel the pain she knew she was avoiding.

  But it was getting harder and harder. And tonight was worse than any other night.

  It was as if he knew how tenuous her self-control was. At every opportunity he was touching her—her back, her arm—taking her hand, massaging her neck.

  His touch was like a hot brand through her clothes. As if her body was conspiring with him to just melt and give in.

  It would be so easy, whispered a little voice.

  But she couldn’t. She knew Gabriel wanted her. It was in his eyes every time he looked at her. Or maybe that was just her desire projected onto him?

  She was going crazy.

  After the operation she’d thought she’d never feel again. Feel desire. Hope. Sensation. But the human body was a fickle traitor. Her body seemed disinclined to remember those painful days. It was as if normal operations had resumed in spite of Leonora’s emotional trauma.

  ‘Are you ready to go?’

  Leonora blinked. As much as she dreaded Gabriel’s touch, because of what it did to her, she realised now that on some level she craved these fleeting moments for a few hours every week.

  She moved out of his embrace and saw how his jaw tightened. ‘Yes, I’m ready to go.’

  He put a hand on her elbow and led her out through the crowd. She could feel the tension in his body, reminding her of that night when she’d seen him and Lazaro together.

  The function this evening had taken place in the same hotel where her engagement to Lazaro had almost been announced. She’d been so distracted that she only really noticed when they walked outside and there was a barrage of flashes and questions from the paparazzi.

  ‘Leonora! Gabriel! Over here!’

  And then there was one voice which seemed to be elevated over all the rest.

  ‘Are you pregnant yet, Señora Torres?’

  Gabriel bundled her into the car and Leonora was tight-lipped as he sat into the driver’s seat beside her. She was desperately trying to stem the hurt blooming inside her.

  He was looking at her. She could feel his gaze on her. Concerned.

  ‘Are you okay? I’m sorry about that—they’re idiots.’

  Leonora looked straight ahead. ‘Just drive. Please.’

  Her tenuous hold on her emotions was breaking. Like taut wires finally snapping under the pressure.

  Leonora wasn’t even aware of where they were going until Gabriel pulled into the underground car park of his city centre apartment. A sense of déjà vu slammed into her, further diminishing her sense of control. The memories here—

  ‘Why have we come here?’ she asked Gabriel.

  He turned off the car engine and looked at her. ‘I have an early meeting in town in the morning. There’s a fully stocked closet here—it’s not a problem, is it?’

  Leonora shook her head quickly, in case he might see something. ‘No, not at all.’

  There was a touch of weariness in his tone, ‘There’s a spare bedroom here too, Leo. Don’t worry, I’m not trying to seduce you again.’

  He got out.

  For some reason his words felt like a slap in the face. Even though she’d been the one putting distance between them.

  He opened her door and put out a hand. Leonora recalled that first night, when she’d been afraid to touch him. She’d been right to be afraid. And she was afraid again now. But she couldn’t avoid it.

  She put her hand into his and let him help her out.

  He let her go again almost immediately, and Leonora curled her fingers over her palm as if to keep the sensation of his skin on hers a little longer. But it wasn’t enough.

  In the elevator on the way up she could feel the tension pulsing between them. Like a heart. Beating. A live thing. She studiously avoided looking at Gabriel but she could smell him. Sense him. Imagine him. Touching her, removing her clothes, devouring her...transporting her to a place where the pain didn’t exist.

  The bell chimed, signalling the elevator’s arrival at the apartment, and Leonora flushed at her wayward mind.

  She stepped out and was acutely conscious of Gabriel behind her. His sheer size and bulk.

  This was her first time back in the apartment since that night. She stopped at the entrance to the living area, almost as if she could see in her mind’s eye how events that night had unfolded, like a movie. He’d seduced her from the moment their eyes had locked that night at the hotel. Even though she had been about to be betrothed to another.

  She turned around and saw him yanking at his bowtie, opening the top button of his shirt. Their eyes met and his movements slowed to a stop.

  The words Goodnight, Gabriel were stuck in Leonora’s throat. She’d said them after every other event. Every night. As she’d made her escape. But tonight...she couldn’t say them.

  Gabriel frowned. ‘Leo...?’

  She was breaking apart inside. All the ice was melting and flowing into the whirlpool of emotion she’d been holding back.

  She struggled to say something. Anything. ‘I can’t... I don’t know...’

  He moved towards her, taking her arms in his hands. His touch burned.

  ‘Leo...what is it? What do you want?’

  She couldn’t speak.

  He came closer. ‘Shall I tell you what I want?’

  Weakly, she nodded, needing him to articulate the turmoil inside her.

  He said roughly, ‘I want you, Leo. I want you so much it hurts.’

  He lifted a hand and cupped her jaw. It took every ounce of strength she possessed to try and hold firm. Resist. Not to turn her face into his palm and taste his skin.

  ‘But what’s the point?’ she asked.

  He took his hand away from her face. Something flickered in his expression. Hurt?

  ‘Does there need to be a point? I want you and you want me. That hasn’t changed.’

  After a long moment of silence he stepped back, and immediately she felt bereft.

  He said, ‘Go to bed, Leo. It’s late.’

  He was walking around her and into the apartment and suddenly everything in her rejected him moving away from her. Even though she knew she was the one who had caused him to do it.

  She turned around. ‘Wait...stop.’

  He had taken off his jacket and thrown it aside. She could see the powerful muscles of his back through his shirt.

  He turned around.

  ‘You’re right,’ Leonora said. ‘There doesn’t need to be a point... I want you, Gabriel.’

  For a long moment Gabriel said nothing. It looked as if he was wrestling with something. But then he said, ‘Are you sure?’

  No.

  Yes. She wanted him too much and the floodgates had opened. She needed him to set fire to the emotional turmoil inside her so it would be transformed into something other than this...pain.

  She nodded.

  He held out a hand. ‘Come here.’

  She walked forward, her eyes never leaving his face, as if he was a port in the storm. He drew her close and after a torturous moment lowered his head and settled his mouth over hers.

  She’d expected instant conflagration. But it was far more subtle than that. His kiss was like a benediction. And it soothed her as much as it frustrated her.

  She pressed closer, hands finding his shirt,
gripping it tightly. Her tongue sought his, and that first contact was like a match being thrown onto dry tinder. The kiss went from gentle to carnal in seconds and Leonora relished it, seized it.

  Gabriel pulled back his head, breathing fast. ‘You... Is this what you want?’

  Leonora nodded jerkily. ‘Please don’t be gentle with me. Not now.’

  He looked at her as if trying to figure her out, but then he took her hand and led her into the bedroom. He undid her hair, letting it fall loose around her shoulders. Then he pulled down the zip at the back of her dress. It fell to the floor in a swathe of silk and chiffon. She kicked off her shoes and stepped out of it and turned around to face Gabriel, lifting her hands to his shirt.

  She tried not to think of that first night when he’d brought her to life. It was too cruel when they couldn’t create life.

  She almost faltered at that point, but Gabriel took her ineffectual hands from his shirt and undid his buttons, opening the shirt and pulling it off. Then his trousers. Everything until he was naked. And her mind was wiped clean of anything but this. Perfection.

  Her inner muscles clenched with anticipation. It had only been a few weeks but it felt like a lifetime. Suddenly she was the one who wanted to go slow. She reached out and touched him reverently. Trailing her fingertips over his chest, tracing his muscles.

  Then he caught her hand and lifted it to his mouth, pressing a kiss to her palm. Her heart ached. She pulled away and lay down on the bed, slipping off her panties. She hadn’t been wearing a bra.

  He looked at her for such a long moment that she almost begged him to stop. But then he moved towards her, kneeling on the bed between her legs, pushing them apart so he could come down between them, pressing kisses to her inner thighs.

  Leonora caught his hair in her hand, lifting his head. He looked at her, sultry and sexy. Her heart broke.

  She said, ‘No. I want you...now. Please, Gabriel...’

  Because in that moment she knew this was it.

  The last time.

  He moved up between her legs, taking himself in his hand to guide himself into her.

  At the last moment she said, ‘Wait, let me...’

  He took his hand away and she put her hand on him, around his length, savouring the sheer majesty of his body.

  She stroked him until he said, ‘Leo...’

  And then she took him and guided him home. He seated himself inside her, as deep as he could go. And then, with slow and remorseless precision, he moved in and out.

  Leonora could feel the storm building, gathering pace inside her. She desperately clung on, wanting to record every tiny second onto her brain so she could take it out and remember what it felt like. But she knew her memory would be cold comfort...

  The point came when she couldn’t hold back any longer. With a sob, she let the energy rush through her, incinerating everything in its wake, and waves of pulsing pleasure made a lie of the pain in her heart...

  * * *

  When Gabriel woke at dawn he knew immediately that he was alone in the apartment. A sense of déjà vu mocked him. He opened his eyes. He could still smell Leo’s scent. He could still feel her nails scoring his back as her body clamped down on his, so tightly that he’d not been able to hold on, falling over the edge and down into an abyss of pleasure so intense he was still wrung out.

  He got up and pulled on jeans. As he’d intuited, the apartment was empty. Like last time, he almost had a moment of wondering if he’d imagined it—but, no. There was a note on the table in an envelope.

  Gabriel.

  He went over and opened it. There was a card inside. A short note.

  Dear Gabriel,

  I’m so sorry. I can’t do this.

  Leonora

  His first instinct was to leave immediately and find Leo, track her down and make her say that to his face while that sensual satisfaction still lingered in her blood.

  He walked over to the window and looked out at the view. A view he’d always taken for granted until Leo had come into his life and made him see things with new eyes. Unjaded eyes.

  That unwelcome sense of helplessness was back. He’d broken through the ice last night but now he was being punished for it. He’d known Leo had been fighting some internal battle when they’d arrived back at the apartment. She’d wanted him but hadn’t wanted to articulate it. So he’d walked away. And then she’d said, ‘I want you.’

  And he’d wanted to resist. Not to give in. To demand if she was just making the most of the arrangement she wanted to be set free from. But there had been something so raw on her face, in her eyes. And his need for her had been too great.

  So he hadn’t resisted, even though he’d suspected that he would pay the price. And the price was this.

  He looked at the note in his hand again and then crumpled it up.

  She just needed space. She’d been through a lot. He would give her a few days and then he would go to her and tell her—Tell her what? interjected an inner voice.

  Gabriel knew what he had to tell her. He’d known for some time now. But he wasn’t sure if she wanted to hear it.

  * * *

  A few days later, after no contact with Leonora, who had gone back to her family castillo, Gabriel’s assistant came in with a package from a courier. Gabriel opened it and took out a sheaf of papers.

  Divorce papers from Leonora.

  Something snapped inside Gabriel.

  Enough.

  He pulled out his cell phone and made a call, standing up and walking over to the window as he waited for the person at the other end to pick up.

  If he didn’t answer—

  But he did.

  He heard Lazaro Sanchez drawl, ‘Gabriel Torres, to what do I owe the pleasure?’

  Gabriel took a deep breath. ‘Can we meet, please?’

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  ‘AND THIS PART of the castillo was built in the twelfth century—’

  Leonora was used to gasps of awe at this point, but not gasps that loud, followed by excited whispers.

  She turned around to see that a new visitor had joined the group. Gabriel. She put a hand on the wall beside her to steady herself. Maybe it was a hallucination.

  But then he spoke. ‘Sorry I’m late. Please carry on.’

  How on earth did he expect her to just ‘carry on’? But then she saw the far too innocent look on his face and a far steelier look in his eyes.

  The divorce.

  Leonora turned around again quickly, struggling to find her way back into the spiel which she could narrate in her sleep in three different languages.

  Somehow she managed to conduct the rest of the tour without making eye contact with Gabriel or tripping over her words.

  After the small group of visitors had dispersed and left, she faced him reluctantly. ‘Did you get the papers?’

  ‘Yes. Can we talk somewhere private?’

  No.

  She could see he was angry. Leonora led him into one of the reception rooms and he closed the door behind them.

  She moved away from him and folded her arms. ‘I don’t know why you’re here. We’ve discussed divorcing.’

  He came into the room, pacing fast. ‘No,’ he said, ‘Actually we didn’t discuss it. You brought it up, I asked if you wanted a divorce, and you said you thought it was the best option. I then said we’d discuss it at a later date. Sending me papers is not a discussion, Leo.’

  ‘I left you a note. I thought that made it pretty clear where I stood. I didn’t hear from you.’

  He arched a brow. ‘Oh, so you’re taking that as a signal of my acquiescence? I was giving you space, Leo. Space to think things over. Clearly that was a mistake.’

  Leonora’s heart thumped. It was heaven and hell to see him again. ‘Okay, well here’s the discussion—I want a divorce.’

>   ‘I don’t.’

  Leonora looked at him. ‘That’s crazy. We both know that I can’t have children and you need heirs.’

  ‘There are options. IVF. Adoption.’

  Leonora turned around to face the window, afraid of her emotions. Damn him. Ever since she’d slept with him they’d been impossible to close off.

  ‘I already told you—they’re not viable options.’

  ‘I thought you were better than this, Leo.’

  She whirled around, hurt. ‘I’m just not—’

  He cut in. ‘Willing to give us a chance?’

  ‘It’s not that.’

  ‘What is it, then? I know IVF is a hard process, Leo, but I know you’re strong. And I’d be with you every step of the way.’ He continued. ‘Did our vows mean nothing to you? For better or worse? In sickness and in health?’

  Leonora could feel her blood draining south. ‘That’s not fair.’

  ‘Isn’t it?’ He moved closer. ‘Why don’t you want to try, Leo?’

  ‘It’s not that I don’t want to...’

  ‘Then why? Are you just looking for an excuse to get out? Now that your family are provided for?’

  She was horrified. ‘No.’

  He was a lot closer than she’d realised. His scent wound around her and she fought against his pull. She stepped back. She had to be strong. Gabriel was just doing what he always did—not taking no for answer. Refusing to see Leonora’s infertility as something that couldn’t be surmounted.

  ‘No, Gabriel—just no. Can’t you understand that one little word?’

  He was grim. ‘I can understand it. What I can’t understand is why my wife doesn’t think our marriage is worth fighting for.’

  He turned away as if to leave and his expression was so stony that Leonora couldn’t bear it.

  She said brokenly, to his departing back, ‘I would fight for it. I would do everything in my power to give us a family if I thought for one second that you loved me. But I won’t put us through a process that might never work for anything less than love. You deserve a family, Gabriel, and you can have that with another wife. Just not with me. I wouldn’t survive it. If it worked we’d have a family, yes, but I don’t want to bring a child into the world just to act as the glue in our marriage. And if it didn’t work you’d resent me—’ She broke off and turned away, trying to stem the sobs working their way up her chest and into her throat.

 

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