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Lionel carried her from the chapel, already working out what his next steps would need to be, when he felt the woman, hiswife, stir in his arms. He paused on the steps outside, looking down at her as those surprisingly dark lashes moved against the bright skin of her face.
He had no idea why he found the sight so captivating.
And then, once more, he found himself pinned by that solemn green regard.
He expected her to react badly and braced himself, but though he could feel a new tension invade her form, she only held his gaze. She blinked.
Once.
“Why are you carrying me?” she asked, very calmly. And quite reasonably enough, to his mind.
“You were overcome,” he told her with the matter-of-factness he was known for. “Had I had not caught you, you would have fainted dead away on the ancient stones and would no doubt have a bruised head besides. You may consider this my first gift to you as your husband.”
Another long, slow blink that somehow seemed to roll through her. All through her body, so that even the ghastly shoes she wore seemed a part of it, and then it all seemed to roll through him, too. Lionel could not imagine why he felt the urge to stand taller.
“Impossible,” she said in that same calm, collected manner. And now the way she was looking at him seemed to brand him a liar, of all things. “I have never fainted in my life.”
“Then I congratulate you, Geraldine.” And that odd name felt like one of those silly drinks in his mouth. “For it seems today is a day of a great many firsts for you.”
He was certain that what he saw ignite in her gaze then was temper. Lionel did not do temper, and so he set her down on her feet. And pretended not to notice when she shook off the hand he kept on her, to make sure she remained steady.
“I don’t know what happened,” she told him, in that same brisk manner that also seemed to suggest that she thought he was at fault nonetheless. “But I can assure you, I do not make a habit oflosing consciousnessat the slightest provocation.”
“Perhaps, for you, the provocation was not so slight.” He lifted his shoulder when her brows drew together. “Have you ever been kissed before?”
The frown she gave him then was ferocious. “What kind of question isthat?”
“I will tell you,” he continued, fully aware that the way she’d answered him was a confession all its own, “that I suspect you never have.”
“You are mistaken.” Her voice was frosty.
“Your reactions suggest otherwise.” He eyed her. “Among other things.”
Her eyes blazed. “I am devastated that you find me so lacking in so many areas. No one else has ever complained.”
“Somehow, that does not surprise me,” Lionel said, which was true. As he doubted there was anyonetocomplain.
But when his car pulled up in front of the chapel, he ushered her down the steps and she walked along with him gamely enough. He was intrigued, despite himself, that for all the many ways she seemed determined to defy him, all he needed to do was put his hand on her and she would follow him wherever he liked.
Or perhapsintriguedwas not the right word.
This time they were both sitting in the back seat of the car and driving away from the chapel before she seemed able to collect herself and look around.
Or collect herself as much as a woman could while her face had come over red again.
Another blush when he had thought one odd enough.
Remarkable, he found himself thinking. When the only remarkable part of any of this was the lengths that he, Lionel Asensio, who was feared and admired the world over, should go to please his grandmother.
“I am staying in a hotel,” Geraldine told him. Rather crossly. “And I don’t think it is in this direction.”
“Only tell me which hotel it is and I will have my men gather your things and cancel your reservation,” he said, and he thought he sounded rather magnanimous, all things considered.
He did not expect her to glare at him the way she did. “Why would I do that?”
Lionel stopped worrying about how he was going to sort out the mess this wedding had become and focused on her. “Perhaps your fainting spell has made you confused.”
“I don’t think I’m the only one in that position,” Geraldine replied, in a tart sort of way that did not sound as ifconfusionwas much of a concern here. He told himself he was grateful. He should have been grateful. “In case you’ve already forgotten, you had a very different bride walking down the aisle toward you not long ago. You’re supposed to be married to an entirely different woman. And I’m not sure that you’re actually married to me. I wasn’t in my right mind. Clearly.”
