AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He would simply choose not to involve himself with any such child, and that would be better for the child, too. Certainly he wouldn’t love it—not when love led to nothing but pain and destruction. The cost of love had been too high the first time; he wouldn’t pay it again.
At that moment the heavy wooden door of the study burst open and he turned to find Leonie sweeping in, a blur of shimmering white silk and silvery lace, her hair in a loose, bright cascade down her back. She came to a stop in front of him, her cornflower-blue eyes alight with excitement, and put her hands on her hips.
‘Well?’ she asked. ‘What do you think of this?’
He stared, all thoughts of children vanishing, his chest gone tight.
She was wearing a wedding gown. It was strapless, the gleaming white silk bodice embroidered with silver and cupping her breasts deliciously. Then it narrowed down to her small waist before sweeping outwards in a white froth of silky skirts and silver lace.
She looked beautiful—a princess from a fairy-tale or a queen about to be crowned.
‘You forgot, didn’t you?’ she said as he stared at her in stunned silence. ‘The designer’s here with a few of the dresses we picked last week.’
Hehadforgotten. He and Leonie had sat down the previous week to choose a gown for her—not that he’d been overly interested in the details of the wedding, since it was the revenge that mattered. But Leonie had been excited, and had enjoyed choosing a gown for herself, and he’d surprised himself by enjoying helping her, too.
‘So I see.’ He tried to calm his racing heartbeat, unable to take his eyes off her. ‘I’m not supposed to see the final gown before the wedding, am I?’
‘Well, it’s your revenge. I thought you might want to make sure the dress is...’ she did a small twirl, the gown flaring out around her ‘...revengey enough.’
Her excitement and pleasure were a joy, and yet they only added to that tight sensation in his chest—the one he hadn’t asked for and didn’t want, and yet had been there since the night he’d picked her up off the street.
He fought it, tried to ignore it. ‘You like it, don’t you?’
She smiled, her expression radiant, her hands smoothing lovingly over the silk. ‘I love it. I’ve never had anything so pretty or that’s felt so lovely.’
She’d been like this over the past couple of weeks as he’d bought clothes and other personal items to add to her meagre stock of belongings, greeting each new thing with a thrilled delight that was immensely gratifying. And it didn’t matter whether it was expensive or not—the fact that she had something of her own seemed to be the most important thing.
It made sense. She’d literally had nothing when he’d found her that night on the streets of Paris except for a very old cellphone and some dirty clothes. Now she had a wardrobe full of items she’d chosen with great care herself and a new phone, not to mention shoes and underwear and perfume and lots of other pretty girly things.
But he hadn’t felt like this when he’d given her those things and she’d smiled at him. Not like he did now, with her so radiantly lovely in a wedding gown, full of excitement and joy. He hadn’t felt as if he couldn’t breathe...as if the world was tilting on its axis and he was going to slide right off.
All he could think about was the day they’d arrived here and how he’d told her that once he took her here, in the place of his ancestors, she’d be his. And how she’d surrendered to him as if she’d never wanted to be anyone else’s, all the while whispering to him that he was hers, too.
You want to be hers.
No, he didn’t. He couldn’t be anyone’s—just as he couldn’t have anything that was his. Not any more. Not when he couldn’t trust himself and his destructive emotions. And this tight feeling in his chest, the way he couldn’t breathe...
You’re falling for her.
Absolutely not. He had to stay detached and uninvolved. Keep it all about revenge. Because that, in the end, was the whole point of this charade: a cold and emotionless revenge against the man who’d taken his wife and son from him.
Which meant he had to keep his emotions out of it.
Yet still he couldn’t stop himself from touching her, reaching out to brush his fingers over the lace of her bodice, watching as her eyes darkened with the passion that always burned so near the surface. She was always ready for him. She never denied him.
‘You are beautiful,gatita,’ he murmured. ‘You are perfect in every way.’
She flushed adorably, giving him a little smile. ‘Thank you.’ Then that smile faded, a look of concern crossing her face. ‘Are you all right?’
How she’d picked up on his unease he had no idea, because he was sure he’d hidden it. Then again, she was incredibly perceptive. Too perceptive in many ways.
‘What? I can’t give my fiancée a compliment without my health being questioned?’ he asked, keeping his voice casual. ‘Whatever is the world coming to?’
She didn’t smile. ‘Cristiano...’
The tight thing in his chest tightened even further, like a fist. ‘You know this will be a proper marriage, don’t you?’ They hadn’t had this conversation and they needed to. It might as well be now. ‘You’ll be my wife in every way?’
‘Yes,’ she replied without hesitation. ‘You made that clear.’
