At the lingerie store Loren was overwhelmed by the multiple arrays of delicate fabrics and colors on offer. She fingered a satin-and-lace nightgown of the sheerest oyster pink. There was a matching wrap that had an exquisitely detailed lace panel in the back. She knew she had to have it.
“Oh, that’s pretty,” Giselle commented over her shoulder. “But I wouldn’t waste too much money on things like that. Alex isn’t keen on night wear.”
Loren stiffened again. And she’d know that snippet of information how? Okay, so maybe the other woman’s earlier comments could have been misconstrued but there was no doubt that Giselle had ceased to be subtle about her allusions to things about which she appeared to have a very personal knowledge.
A needle of pain worked deep into Loren’s chest. So, Alex had indulged in an affair with his beautiful assistant. May indeed still be doing so, for all she knew. Did he plan for it to continue even after their marriage? Loren swallowed against the bile that rose, sudden and foully bitter, in her throat.
Giselle still hovered at her side, her green eyes narrowed slightly as if gauging the result of her comment on Loren. Loren knew she had to say something—anything to get through the next few minutes—but she also knew that she dare not show any sign of weakness. A woman like Giselle would capitalize on that weakness and run with it and there was no way Loren was about to let that happen.
“Hmm,” she murmured calmly, nodding slowly. “Good to know. Thanks, but I think I’ll get it anyway.”
She was rewarded with a sharp look from her companion, puzzlement followed swiftly by acceptance, as if Giselle realized that she’d made her point but had failed to rattle Loren as she’d so obviously intended.
It was a hollow victory.
The rest of the day stretched ahead interminably for Loren. The mere thought of absorbing and defusing more comments from Giselle extinguished every last moment of pleasure she’d anticipated in the day.
Loren suggested they take a break with a coffee at one of the harborside cafés. Once they were settled at their table and had placed their orders she sat back and let the warmth of the late spring sunshine seep into her body. She took a deep, steadying breath. She knew what she had to do.
“Giselle, look, I appreciate that you’ve taken time out of your day to help me with my shopping but I think I’d like a little time to myself and see if I can’t catch up with some old school friends instead. You head back to the resort, I’m sure you have plenty of work you’d rather be doing. I’ll just get a cab back to the castillo later today.”
“Alex specifically asked me to assist you today. I can’t leave you just like that,” Giselle protested.
“Come on, let’s be honest here. You don’t want to spend time with me any more than I do with you. You’ve made it clear that you and Alex have a history. I accept that. But it is now very firmly in the past.”
So back off, the unsaid words hung in the air between them.
Loren’s heart hammered in her chest. She wasn’t used to confrontation of any kind—avoided it like the plague on most occasions, to be honest. But when shoved hard enough she always stood her ground and right now she’d drawn her demarcation line.
“So you’re sending me back to be with him? A bit risky, don’t you think?”
The smile on Giselle’s face was predatory.
“Risky? Well, it was me he traveled half the world to visit and asked to marry, wasn’t it?”
Giselle snorted inelegantly. “Nothing more than the fulfillment of his duty to allay an old man’s concerns and create some strong publicity for the del Castillo business empire. You can ask Alex about that yourself if you don’t believe me.” She bent and collected her handbag and rose gracefully from her chair. “Well, I can see I’m no longer wanted here. Far be it from me to stay where I don’t belong.”
Loren sat and watched Giselle walk away, the clear insult about Loren’s presence on Isla Sagrado, in Alex’s life, echoing in her ears.
But Giselle was wrong, Loren had no doubt about that. If anything, Giselle was the intruder here, not Loren. Not when Loren had been born and raised here. Not when Alex had brought her back. Her hands curled into tight fists in her lap. She did belong here, Loren repeated silently in her mind. She did.
* * *
When Alex returned to the castillo that night Loren half expected him to mention something about Giselle returning to the office early, or even insist that she avail herself of the other woman’s expertise. She’d prepared at least a dozen responses to him by the time she’d finally returned home herself, her arms laden with parcels after a full afternoon of shopping on her own. Her feet ached with the miles she’d walked but inside she’d reached a state she could finally call happy. No matter what Alex said to her about Giselle, she wouldn’t let it bring her down.
The number of people who’d recognized her, the old friends she’d indeed bumped into who had been excited to see her—all had made her feel so thoroughly welcomed back.
As it transpired, she hadn’t needed a single one of her arguments. Alex was distracted all through the evening meal, letting Abuelo direct most of the conversation and listening to her tell him of all she’d seen and done during the day.
After their meal, Alex walked her to her suite as he did every night. As she unlocked the door he put out a hand to cover hers.
“Would you mind if I come in with you this evening?” His voice was deep and the sound caressed her ears like a lover’s touch.
“Not at all,” she answered with a smile as she swung the heavy door open and stepped inside. “Please, come in.”
Loren’s heart fluttered in her chest. Had Alex decided not to wait for their wedding night? Nerves, plaited with a silken thread of longing, pulsed deep inside, slowly stoking a furnace of heat within her. Her skin grew sensitive. So sensitive, even the newly bought gown she’d worn to dinner felt too heavy against her.
She turned to him, aware that her cheeks were warm and no doubt bore a flush of color quite at odds with the elegance of her appearance tonight. Her eyes raked over him. Ah, she never tired of drinking in the sight of his masculine beauty. Of the breadth of his shoulders as they filled the designer suit he wore with such effortless grace and style. Of the press of his chest against the crisp white cotton of his shirt. Even the way his throat moved above the knot of his silver-and-black striped silk tie mesmerized her.
Her mind filled with the prospect of placing her lips to that very point where she could see the beat of his pulse—of pressing her lips into his skin, allowing her tongue to caress that spot and taste him, tasting so much more.
She clenched her thighs against the sudden thrum of energy that coiled there. But instead of lessening the sensation, it only intensified it, sending a small shock of pleasure through her and driving a tiny gasp past her lips.
She felt as though she was poised on the balls of her feet, ready to move into the shelter of his arms and feel once more the press of his body against hers. Her whole body was attuned to the man only a few short feet away from her.
“There is something I need to discuss with you,” Alex said, the abruptly businesslike tone of his voice quelling her ardor as suddenly as if she’d been drenched by a rogue wave on the rocky bay beneath the castle.
Was he now going to take her to task for her dismissal of Giselle today? Loren felt the lingering remnants of desire slowly flicker and die. She swallowed and took a steadying breath.
“Well then, would you be more comfortable sitting down? Perhaps I can pour you a drink?”
“Yes, thank you. A cognac I think. And pour one for yourself, too.”
Did he think she’d need it? Suddenly Loren wished he had simply stuck with their usual routine. Even a noncommittal kiss at the door was bound to have been better than being castigated for rejecting his assistant’s company. Not that she was going to take any criticism of her choice today without putting up a decent protest of her own. But was she ready to face the truth if she asked him a
bout his relationship with Giselle?
She crossed the sitting room of her suite to the heavily carved dark wooden sideboard against one wall. She took two crystal snifters from within and then lifted the cut-crystal stopper from one of the decanters on the edged silver tray that sat on the polished surface. Alex’s warm hand closed over hers.
“Here, let me pour, hmm?”
A fine tremor ran through her as his touch sent a sizzle of electricity coursing up her arm.
She pulled away from him and forced her suddenly uncooperative legs to take her over to one of the two-seater couches. She lowered herself onto the richly upholstered fabric, yet couldn’t bring herself to sit back and relax against the cushioned back, instead perching on the edge.
Alex crossed the room and handed her one of the glasses. Loren bent her nose to the rim, taking a deep breath of the aroma of the dark amber liquid before lifting it to her lips and allowing the alcohol to trickle over her tongue and down her throat. She never normally drank hard spirits, but she had the distinct feeling that tonight she was going to need it.
She swallowed, welcoming the burn the distilled liquor left in its path, and watched as Alex sat down opposite her. He unbuttoned his jacket and reached inside, drawing out a folded paper packet. He carefully placed the packet on the coffee table between them, then took a sip of his cognac.
The liquid left a slight sheen upon his lips, capturing her gaze with the inevitability of a moth to a flame. He pressed his lips together, dissipating the residue, allowing her to look away.
“Is that what you want to discuss?” Loren pressed as he made no effort to explain the papers he’d laid before them.
“Yes. It’s a legal document I need you to read and sign before we are married. Someone can take you into the notary’s office tomorrow for it to be witnessed.”
“What kind of legal document?” Loren asked, not even bothering to point out that she could quite capably make her own way into the city.
Alex’s dark eyes bored into hers. “A prenuptial document.”
“Well, that is only to be expected,” Loren said matter-of-factly, even as she forced herself to quell the swell of disappointment that rose within her. Did he really find such a document necessary?
As far as she was concerned, this marriage was forever. She had no desire and no plans to ever leave Alex, nor, if such a heartbreaking event should occur, could she imagine she would ever make unreasonable financial demands against him.
“Perhaps it would be best if you read it first. If you have any questions I’m sure the notary will be able to answer them for you.”
Alex put down his glass and rose from his seat. “I’d better get going. I have an early flight tomorrow.”
“Flight?” Loren asked. “Where? May I come with you?”
“It is nothing but a business trip to Seville. You would be bored. Which reminds me, you will need to ask Reynard or Benedict to take you to the notary as Giselle will be accompanying me. Actually, best to call on Reynard. Benedict drives like a demented race-car driver at the best of times and I would hate for anything to happen to you before the wedding.”
Loren fought back the bitter disappointment his words evoked in her. “I’ll bear that in mind,” she replied through stiff lips. “When will you be back?”
“In a couple of days, certainly no more than three.”
Three days away with Giselle? Loren felt the news deep in her gut, as if it was a physical blow. Perhaps her earlier fears of today were true after all.
“Good night, then.” Alex walked the couple of steps that brought him to her side and bent to kiss the top of her head before leaving the room.
As she watched the heavy door of her suite close behind him she blinked against the prick of tears that had begun behind her eyes. She would not cry. She would not.
Loren reached across the table, lifted up the legal packet and slid out the folded document. Her eyes scanned the information. As unaccustomed as she was to legal jargon it all seemed to make sense until she reached a paragraph headed up with the words legal issue.
She read the paragraph, then read it again to be certain she understood the terminology. If she was correct, to ensure the continuation of the del Castillo bloodline she and Alex must make love at the time when her body was at its most fertile, and to ensure the correct timing, her menstrual cycle was to be monitored. Even the details of the clinic she would be monitored by were in the agreement.
Loren let the papers slide from suddenly nerveless fingers.
The legalese twirled around in her mind, sentences fragmenting before joining back together. Did this mean that she and Alex would only make love when she was ovulating? That was, what? A span of a few days at most in each month. And what if she got pregnant? Would he still share her bed, still make love with her as a husband did with his wife? Or would her job have been done, leaving him free to go back into Giselle’s arms?
Just what kind of marriage was she entering?
Five
Loren heard the knock at the door to her suite and wondered if perhaps her maid had forgotten something. She’d only just sent her away, preferring to spend these last few moments before her wedding alone. She picked up her voluminous skirts and went to open the door.
“Giselle!” Loren stepped back, startled to see the blonde there. She let her skirts settle back down to the carpet beneath her, the ivory French taffeta giving a distinctive rustle.
“My, don’t you look every inch the fairy-tale princess,” Giselle remarked, coming into the sitting room.
Loren tolerated the woman’s scrutiny of the dress that was the fulfillment of all her childhood dreams. Yes, she did feel like a fairy-tale princess in the strapless gown. Somehow the words from Giselle’s glossy red lips made the idea more of an insult than a compliment.
“Was there something you wanted?” Loren asked coolly.
“No, Alex asked me to come up and check on you. He thought you might benefit from some female company since your mother isn’t here.”
Loren bit back the retort that immediately sprang to her lips. She would not fight, not with anyone, on her wedding day.
“That’s lovely of him. But as you can see, I’m fine, thank you.”
She waited for Giselle to leave but instead she settled herself on one of the couches. Loren had to admit, she looked beautiful. The woman certainly knew how to make the most of her features. The dress she wore would have looked vampish on anyone else, but on Giselle it was elegantly sensual.
“You know, I have to hand it to you. I thought you’d have given up by now,” Giselle said.
“Given up?”
“Well, how many women would have signed that prenuptial agreement, for a start? I know I certainly wouldn’t.”
“Perhaps you would if you loved your fiancé enough,” Loren commented quietly. “As I do.”
Giselle waved her hand as if dismissing Loren’s words, the very gesture making Loren’s spine stiffen in irritation. She’d wanted this time alone to reflect on her coming marriage, and particularly on the terms of the prenuptial agreement that Giselle had mentioned. Clearly, the blonde knew all about it, and that fact rankled with Loren. It should have been a private matter. One between her and Alex alone.
This past week had been such a whirl of activity with a museum opening to attend along with several charity functions, all of which gave her a taste for what her duties would be like as a del Castillo bride. She and Alex, while together for much of their waking moments, had barely had a moment alone to talk. Whenever she’d tried to bring the subject of the prenuptial document up, Alex had brushed it off until later. Now, today, was about as late as it could get and Loren was still unsure of where she stood on the agreement she’d eventually signed.
“Well, whatever,” Giselle continued, oblivious to Loren’s obvious displeasure in her company. “You’ve really gone above and beyond the call of duty. It’s either incredibly naive of you to stick with it or incredibly kind.”
/>
“Kind?”
“To agree to the terms just to help the company out and keep an old man happy.”
“I don’t know what you mean. I’m marrying Alex because I love him. Because I’ve always loved him,” Loren stated as firmly as she was able.
“Surely you’re aware that Alex is only marrying you because of the curse.”
“The curse?” Surely she didn’t mean the old governess’s curse?
Loren knew well the story of the woman who’d been brought to Isla Sagrado from the south of France to educate the daughters of one of the original del Castillos on the island—a nobleman from Spain. The poor woman had fallen in love with her employer and entered into an affair that had lasted years.
Legend had it that she’d borne him three sons, but that in view of the fact his wife had only borne him daughters, he’d taken her boys from her and he’d raised them as his legitimate issue, paying her off with a ruby necklace from the del Castillo jewel collection. Paintings in the family gallery that predated the nobleman showed the necklace, known as La Verdad del Corazon—the Heart’s Truth. It was a stunning piece of chased gold with a massive heart-shaped ruby at its center. Loren had always privately believed that it was more the type of gift a man gave to his one true love than as payment for services rendered.
When the nobleman’s wife died, however, he’d married another woman—one from a high-ranking family. In her misery the governess was said to have interrupted the wedding, begging her beloved to take her back. When her lover—and her sons—turned their backs on her, she cursed the del Castillo family. If, in the next nine generations, the del Castillos did not learn to live by their family motto of honor, truth and love, the ninth generation would be the last. With that pronouncement, she cast both herself and the Heart’s Truth from the cliffs behind the castle and into the savage ocean. Her body was later found, but the Heart’s Truth had been lost ever since.
The Tycoon's Charm: The Tycoon's Paternity AgendaHonor-Bound Groom Page 21