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She took a sip of her drink and he noticed her hand wasn’t entirely steady. He had to clench his fist to stop from reaching out and taking her hand in his. He saw her throat work as she swallowed and he imagined the burn of the alcohol as it slipped down into her stomach, radiating heat. Mirroring the heat he felt in his blood.
Dios, but she was stunning. Possibly the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. And she was getting to him in a way that made him distinctly uncomfortable. Usually when he desired a woman it was a manageable thing. Right now it was taking all his restraint not to seduce Leonora to within an inch of her life and demand the satisfaction his body was crying out for. A kind of satisfaction that he knew instinctively would eclipse anything he’d ever experienced before.
He stepped back and gestured to a nearby couch. ‘Please, sit down. Your things should be here soon.’
* * *
For a long moment Leonora couldn’t move. She was still in shock at how succinctly Gabriel had summed up her existence.
‘The lives we’ve led... The expectations on our shoulders... The life built on legacy and duty. Responsibility.’
She’d never felt that anyone could possibly understand what her life was like. She had very little to complain about and yet sometimes she felt as trapped as if she was in jail.
He was looking at her. He’d just asked if she wanted to sit down.
She shook her head jerkily. ‘No, I’m fine. Thank you.’
She felt restless, and she walked over to where floor-to-ceiling windows looked out over a terrace and further, to the skyline of Madrid under a clear starlit sky. She had a very fleeting moment of wondering what Lazaro was doing right now. Dealing with the mother of his child?
A tiny sense of hysteria at what had happened rose up and she took another hasty sip of whiskey to try and force it back down.
Gabriel came to stand near her. She could see him in the reflection of the window. He’d taken off his jacket and his chest and shoulders looked impossibly broad under the snowy shirt.
She saw her own reflection. The strapless red dress. She’d hoped its elegant simplicity would prove to be timeless, because it was many seasons out of date. She saw the glittering drop earrings hanging from her earlobes that looked like diamonds. But they weren’t diamonds at all. They were cubic zirconia. It was a long time since she’d worn any real family jewels. They’d all been sold by her father to get money for gambling.
She felt like a fraud, and the humiliation from earlier rose up again. She quickly downed the last of her drink, guiltily relishing the last dregs of comfort from the alcohol.
She turned to face Gabriel, avoiding his eye. ‘I should leave—go home. My mother and father will be worried.’
And Matías.
Just thinking of him made her heart hurt. What would happen to them now? If they lost the castle then that was it. They would have hit rock bottom with no way back. An entire dynasty and legacy wiped out through the actions of her father...
‘Don’t go yet.’
She looked at Gabriel. Her heart thumped hard. His face was all lean angles and harsh lines. And then softened by that ridiculously sensual mouth.
‘We’re still waiting for your things.’
Leonora was torn. She wanted to appear totally at ease and sophisticated, draping herself artfully on one of the sofas while wittily regaling Gabriel with inconsequential chatter. But that wasn’t her. Had never been her.
‘I can get them tomorrow. They’re not that important.’
She felt that the longer she stood there the quicker he’d see that he was having an effect on her.
He came closer and moved to take the empty glass from her hand. He put his fingers over hers. A deliberate move? The breath stuck in her throat. He was so...vital. Lazaro had never had this effect on her and she’d believed that it would make for a better marriage. No extreme feelings or wants.
Gabriel said, ‘The paparazzi will know for sure by now that your engagement wasn’t announced. They’ll be actively hunting you down. Waiting for you. You should call your parents—warn them to stay inside.’
Leonora swallowed. Gabriel’s fingers were still on hers. ‘But I can’t just...stay here.’
‘Of course you can.’ He took the glass out of her nerveless fingers and in the same motion, with his other hand, he handed her his phone. ‘Use this.’
It seemed to be a foregone conclusion. And she knew he was right. She couldn’t go back home now and face a barrage of lights and questions. Out of concern for Matías as much as anything else.
Leonora moved away from Gabriel and dialled her home number. Her mother answered, immediately concerned, and Leonora rushed to assure her that everything was okay. She filled her in on the broad strokes of what had happened and told her not to worry. She told her that she’d spend the night elsewhere, to draw the press away from the de la Vega home. Her mother sounded disappointed—and then just weary. They’d been here before, with the press camped outside.
When she’d ended the conversation, after checking that Matías was okay, Leonora handed the phone back.
