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Her gaze lifted, drifted over the crowd. Antonio had disappeared after the dinner. The few times she’d spied him, he’d been talking with men who looked very important, the kind who were still answering emails during the ceremony held in the grand ballroom below.
Apprehension pricked her skin. Ever since she’d woken up yesterday morning to an empty bed and a brief note saying Antonio would meet her in Marseille, she’d known. The fairy tale they’d created the last week had been over. Paul had conveyed that Antonio had had to take the helicopter and help his brother.
“Last-minute wedding details,” he’d told her.
The twist of his lips beneath his magnificent moustache had told her he hadn’t believed Antonio’s excuse, either.
When she’d arrived at Alejandro’s villa, it had been to find her aunt and uncle eagerly waiting for her. Instead of the worried frowns that normally carved wrinkles into their expressions, they’d been glowing with happiness. They’d gushed over her, the requests that had been pouring in for her design portfolio and, of course, her relationship. Aunt Lonita, especially, had peppered her with questions. She’d nearly swooned when Antonio had shown up to escort them all to dinner on the lawn where a long banquet table had been set for the Cabrera family and rehearsal guests.
He’d played the part well. Whenever people asked if Anna had been his secret girlfriend all along, he’d smiled coyly, saying what mattered was that she was with him now, as he pressed a kiss to her fingers.
Hollow. She’d sensed the distance behind the gestures, observed the tightness around his eyes. It hadn’t surprised her that he hadn’t visited her room last night, or that he’d kept his distance until the reception when he’d escorted her into dinner.
She took a long drink of champagne. It was what they’d agreed to. She’d been mentally preparing herself for it the closer and closer they’d gotten. But she would have rather he just disappear after their last night of lovemaking than continue with the pretense in front of their family and friends.
She looked up from her glass and stretched her lips into a smile as her uncle approached.
“Enjoying the reception?” he asked, his eyes twinkling beneath his bushy brows.
“I am.”
Another lie. She’d always heard once one lie was uttered the others stacked up faster than they could be tracked.
Diego glanced around. “Where’s your beau?”
“Antonio? Um...talking with someone about business, I think.”
His eyes settled back on her. An ache formed in her chest. Over the years, she’d gotten used to seeing his blue eyes, so like her mother’s. But right now, when she desperately missed and wanted her mom to hug her, to tell her everything was going to be okay as she cried on her shoulder, it hurt to see the reminder of what she’d lost.
“Why do I think there’s something you’re not telling me?”
Her pulse skipped a beat. “What?”
“You were never good at lying, Anna.”
“I...that is, we...”
Where was Antonio when she needed him? Much as she detested the suave, professional side of him, he would be able to talk their way out of this.
“You looked very happy in the photos your aunt and I saw.” His head tilted to one side. “You don’t look so happy now.”
“I’m sorry about the photos, Tío.” The one detail she could latch onto and discuss without spinning more falsehoods. “I should have given you and Aunt Lonita more of a heads-up. Everything just happened so fast.”
Her uncle chuckled. “We were surprised, but not shocked. I’m more surprised it took the two of you so long to figure things out.”
Panic started to claw at her throat. She knew she’d only be able to keep up the pretense so long.
“What do you mean?”
“You were so close when you were younger. He was the only one I trusted with you. I can’t believe he didn’t snatch you up sooner.” Concern deepened the wrinkles in his face. “But something doesn’t seem right. You disappear to Paris to focus on your design career. You run off to Rome with a friend from college. Then you appear in the tabloids with the youngest son of my employer.”
She winced. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you worry.”
Diego’s thick brows drew together. “I know.”
“It’s just... I know you and TíaLonita worry about me.”
He leaned against the railing of the ship. “We do.” He sighed. “Too much, I’m afraid.”
