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Once outside, guests showered them with confetti, as though this were a normal wedding and they were a normal, happy couple. Eleanor and Apollo joined them, from amongst the crowd.
“Take care of our Ellie,” Apollo said, the words congeniality themselves, but Xavier heard the warning undertone and his pride was invoked. The first hint of a headache speared his temple and he willed it away, determined not to be incapacitated on his wedding day. Not when so much was at stake.
“I will.” He reached for Joshua and gave the little boy a tight hug, then passed him back to Elizabeth. “Your sister is going to mind Joshua for two nights while we are away.”
“What?” Elizabeth looked at him as though he’d lost his mind. “Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise,” Xavier said heavily. He thought of the island he owned in the Mediterranean, where he’d decided they would start their married life. But suddenly, it didn’t seem right. It wasn’t right. There was another place he wanted to take her, somewhere she wouldn’t expect, somewhere as far removed from distractions and the real world as possible. He needed to be truly alone with his bride to see everything clearly: and there was only one place that afforded such privacy.
“Come here, little master,” Nell grinned, taking Josh from Elizabeth’s arms. “Congratulations.” She didn’t look at Xavier when she spoke and his stomach dropped even lower.
His wife’s sister hated him. And could he wonder at that?
“Thank you.”
A limousine was waiting, the door held open by José. His bride slid in first, looking so beautiful in that dress. He took a moment to speak to José, advising him of the change of flight plans, and then stepped into the car, taking the seat beside his reluctant, blackmailed bride.
“Where are we going?” She asked without looking at him. The words were blanked of any emotion. She sounded… desolate. Her grief set something off inside of him – a domino effect of anguish.
He wanted to ask if she was okay, but it was a foolish question. He could see, quite clearly, that she wasn’t.
“You’ll see.” He settled back in his seat and stared out of the window as London passed in a blur, wondering if this was craziness. Not the wedding – but the honeymoon. He had her where he wanted her, theoretically. But it wasn’t enough.
She was his wife – but she didn’t want to be.
The realization kept unfolding inside of him and he saw the truth in every aspect of this past month. Only two things between them made sense: Their love for Joshua, and the way they were in bed. The rest of this relationship was made up of his anger and resentment and her guilt and apologies.
It was not enough. It never would be.
The limo took the private entrance to Heathrow and his jet was waiting. She pleaded exhaustion and slept on the flight – he stared out of the window, brooding, replaying the last month and wishing, more than anything, that he could remember every single detail about Elizabeth.
It was only a short flight to Spain. His jet touched down in Valencia and one of his helicopters was waiting on the tarmac.
“Yours?” She asked, scanning the ‘Salbatore’ scrawled on the tail.
“Ours,” he confirmed with a brusque nod.
Her weak smile was a rebuke of that sentiment; he ignored it for the moment, his sole focus now was on getting Elizabeth to their destination. He guided her to the sleek white chopper, opening the passenger door and helping her in. She dropped his hand as soon as she was seated.
He ground his teeth as he came to the pilot’s side and hopped up. “Here.” He held some earphones towards her, and then donned his own pair. Before taking off, he checked her belt was properly secured, his touch clinical as he felt the tightness of the straps.
And then he pressed the dial to begin the chopper’s ascent, glad to be behind the controls – glad to be in control of one damned thing in his life.
“It’s so beautiful,” she said, the words whispered but carrying to him through the earphones they both wore.
The ocean sparkled beside them, glistening in the afternoon sunlight. It was a striking view, but he’d seen it so often, he’d become complacent.
“Yes,” he admitted, steering the chopper slightly inland. He checked his instruments and then sighed heavily.
From the periphery of his vision, he felt her jerk her attention to his face and then quickly shift it away once more.
“We’re almost there,” he said through a clenched jaw, wondering at the wisdom of kidnapping his wife to a place that was as remote and rustic as it came.
But they needed privacy, and only here could it truly be assured.
Chapter 15
IT HAD BEEN AT least ten months since he’d been to Borde del Mondo and it showed. The tiny cabin at the top of a cliff overlooking the ocean had been shuttered up, but cobwebs and dust had paid that little heed. The rock walls, formed into this shape at least three hundred years earlier, had absorbed the day’s heat so the cabin remained warm even when the night was beginning to cool off, and the breeze from the ocean sent a warning of what the night would be like.
