Return of the Forbidden Tycoon
Page 16
There was a shift that ran through her body whenever he was near, an awareness that made it difficult to focus on anything other than him, for all else seemed to move to the periphery of her consciousness to allow Alim centre stage.
‘Quanti ospiti?’
Marianna’s voice was coming from a distance and as she asked how many guests for the wedding, it was Mona who answered instead of Gabi.
For Alim had looked over and met her gaze.
He was beautiful.
Always.
Effortlessly elegant, supremely polite, he was the calm, still water to Gabi’s fizz.
She was a dreamer, which meant that though he was out of her league, he was not out of bounds to her thoughts; innocent in body she may be, but not so in her mind.
And as for those eyes, they were a dark grey with silver flecks that spoke silently of the night.
His gaze was a dangerous thing to be held in, Gabi knew, and she was trapped in it now. There was a fire crackling in the grate and there was heat low, low in her stomach and rising to her neck.
She wanted to excuse herself from the conversation and walk over in response to his silent command. She wanted work to be gone, for his lover to disappear, and for Alim to lower her down onto a silken bed.
Just that.
‘Gabi…’ Marianna intruded.
‘Alim,’ his lover called.
But he was making his way over.
‘Va tuto bene?’
He asked if everything was okay, and though his Italian was excellent, it was laced in his own rich accent and rendered Gabi incapable of response, for she had not expected him to come over.
It was Marianna who responded and told him the preferred date for the wedding.
‘That would be fine.’ Alim nodded to Marianna and to the other guests and then he looked directly at Gabi; she found herself staring at his mouth as he spoke, for it was just a little safer than to stare into his eyes. ‘How are you, Gabi?’
‘I am well.’
‘That is good.’
He turned and walked away and she held her breath.
It was nothing—just an exchange so tiny that the others had not even noticed its significance, yet Gabi would survive on it for weeks.
He knew her name.
‘Perhaps you could take Mona to see the ballroom while I discuss details with Fleur,’ Marianna suggested.
Details being money.
‘Of course.’
Gabi stood and smoothed her skirt.
Oh, she loathed the black suit with a gold logo and the heavy, cowl-necked cream top. It was the perfect outfit for a funeral director, not a wedding planner.
If it were her own business she would wear a willow-green check with a hint of pink. Gabi had already chosen the fabric.
And she would not wear the black high heels that Bernadetta insisted on, for she felt too tall and bulky as she walked through the foyer alongside the future bride.
And then she saw Alim and Ms Blonde stepping into his private elevator, and Gabi scowled at his departing back, for she envied the intimate experience they were about to share. Ms Blonde was coiling herself around him and whispering into his ear.
Thank God for gated elevators.
They were excellent for regaining self-control, for they slammed shut on the couple and as the world came back from the peripheries Gabi recalled that there was a wedding to be arranged.
There were large double doors to the ballroom and Gabi opened them both so that Mona could get the full effect as she stepped in.
It truly was stunning.
Huge crystal chandeliers first drew the eye, but it was a feast in all directions.
‘Molto bello…’ Mona breathed, and it was a relief to slip back into speaking Italian. ‘The ballroom is nothing like I remember it.’
‘Alim, the owner, had it completely refurbished. The floor was sanded back, the chandeliers repaired. The Grande Lucia is once again the place for a wedding.’
‘I know it is,’ Mona admitted. ‘It is actually where James and I met. I was here for my grandparents’ anniversary. James was here, visiting…’ Mona stopped herself from voicing whatever it was she had been about to say. ‘I just don’t like it that Fleur is calling all the shots just because her…’ Mona clapped her lips together. Clearly she didn’t want to say too much.
Gabi, curious by nature, wished that she would.
Fleur was being very elusive.
From the draft guest list, the groom’s side seemed incredibly sparse. Just a best man from Scotland would be flying in and that was all. There was no mention of James’s father.
Gabi wondered if Fleur was widowed.
But Gabi wasn’t there to wonder and her mind turned, as it always did, into making this the very best of weddings.
‘Imagine dancing under those lights at night,’ Mona said.
‘There is nothing more beautiful,’ Gabi assured her, and then pointed up to a small gallery that ran the length of the westerly wall and imagined the select audience watching the proceedings in days long gone.
‘The photographer can get some amazing overhead shots of the dance floor from up there. A photographer I…I mean Matrimoni di Bernadetta regularly uses does the most marvellous time-lapse shots from the gallery. They are stunning.’
She could see that Mona was starting to get excited.
‘When you say you were here for your grandparents’ anniversary,’ Gabi probed, because the thought of time-lapse photos had got her thinking…
‘My grandparents were married here,’ Mona told her. ‘Sometimes they take out the record they danced to on their wedding night.’
‘Really?’
‘I even recognise the floor from their wedding photos. It’s like stepping back in time.’
Yes, even the ballroom floor was stunning—a parquet of mahogany, oak and redwood, all highly polished to reveal a subtle floral mosaic.
‘Your grandparents still dance to their wedding song…’
Mona nodded and Gabi could see she that she was already sold on the venue.
There would be a string quartet, but Mona loved Gabi’s suggestion that she and James dance their first dance to the same record that her grandparents had.
And a wedding, a very beautiful one, was finally starting to be born.
It was a rather more glowing bride-to-be who returned to the lounge area and now chatted happily with Fleur and Marianna about plans.
And it was a bemused Gabi who looked up and saw Ms Blonde angrily striding through the foyer; she didn’t know why, but she would bet her life’s savings that Alim had uncoiled her, unwilling, from his arms.
Then later, much later, when plans were starting to be put more firmly in place, Gabi called Rosa with the official dates.
‘I’m already working on the dress,’ Rosa said. ‘She’s cutting it terribly fine to wear one of my gowns, even ready-to-wear.’
And, after a long, tiring day taking care of others, Gabi did something for herself.
She was all glowing and happy from that tiny exchange with Alim. Of course his lover’s departure could have nothing to do with her, but Gabi was a dreamer, and already her mind was turning things around.
‘Can I come and try on the silver dress?’ she asked.
It was wonderful to dream of Alim.
Copyright © 2017 by Carol Marinelli
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RETURN OF THE FORBIDDEN TYCOON
Originally published as A MAN POSSESSED by Harlequin Mills & Boon in 1986
This edition published 2017
Copyright © 1986 by Penny Jordan
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