Honour-Bound Groom / Cinderella & the CEO: Honour-Bound Groom

Loren sat and watched Giselle walk away, the clear insult about Loren’s presence on Isla Sagrado, in Alex’s life, echoing in her ears.

But Giselle was wrong, Loren had no doubt about that. If anything, Giselle was the intruder here, not Loren. Not when Loren had been born and raised here. Not when Alex had brought her back. Her hands curled into tight fists in her lap. She did belong here, Loren repeated silently in her mind. She did.

When Alex returned to the castillo that night Loren half expected him to mention something about Giselle returning to the office early, or even insist that she avail herself of the other woman’s expertise. She’d prepared at least a dozen responses to him by the time she’d finally returned home herself, her arms laden with parcels after a full afternoon of shopping on her own. Her feet ached with the miles she’d walked but inside she’d reached a state she could finally call happy. No matter what Alex said to her about Giselle, she wouldn’t let it bring her down.

The number of people who’d recognized her, the old friends she’d indeed bumped into who had been excited to see her—all had made her feel so thoroughly welcomed back.

As it transpired, she hadn’t needed a single one of her arguments. Alex was distracted all through the evening meal, letting Abuelo direct most of the conversation and listening to her tell him of all she’d seen and done during the day.

After their meal, Alex walked her to her suite as he did every night. As she unlocked the door he put out a hand to cover hers.

“Would you mind if I come in with you this evening?” His voice was deep and the sound caressed her ears like a lover’s touch.

“Not at all,” she answered with a smile as she swung the heavy door open and stepped inside. “Please, come in.”

Loren’s heart fluttered in her chest. Had Alex decided not to wait for their wedding night? Nerves, plaited with a silken thread of longing, pulsed deep inside, slowly stoking a furnace of heat within her. Her skin grew sensitive. So sensitive, even the newly bought gown she’d worn to dinner felt too heavy against her.

She turned to him, aware that her cheeks were warm and no doubt bore a flush of color quite at odds with the elegance of her appearance tonight. Her eyes raked over him. Ah, she never tired of drinking in the sight of his masculine beauty. Of the breadth of his shoulders as they filled the designer suit he wore with such effortless grace and style. Of the press of his chest against the crisp white cotton of his shirt. Even the way his throat moved above the knot of his silver-and-black striped silk tie mesmerized her.

Her mind filled with the prospect of placing her lips to that very point where she could see the beat of his pulse—of pressing her lips into his skin, allowing her tongue to caress that spot and taste him, tasting so much more.

She clenched her thighs against the sudden thrum of energy that coiled there. But instead of lessening the sensation, it only intensified it, sending a small shock of pleasure through her and driving a tiny gasp past her lips.

She felt as though she was poised on the balls of her feet, ready to move into the shelter of his arms and feel once more the press of his body against hers. Her whole body was attuned to the man only a few short feet away from her.

“There is something I need to discuss with you,” Alex said, the abruptly businesslike tone of his voice quelling her ardor as suddenly as if she’d been drenched by a rogue wave on the rocky bay beneath the castle.

Was he now going to take her to task for her dismissal of Giselle today? Loren felt the lingering remnants of desire slowly flicker and die. She swallowed and took a steadying breath.

“Well then, would you be more comfortable sitting down? Perhaps I can pour you a drink?”

“Yes, thank you. A cognac I think. And pour one for yourself, too.”

Did he think she’d need it? Suddenly Loren wished he had simply stuck with their usual routine. Even a noncommittal kiss at the door was bound to have been better than being castigated for rejecting his assistant’s company. Not that she was going to take any criticism of her choice today without putting up a decent protest of her own. But was she ready to face the truth if she asked him about his relationship with Giselle?

She crossed the sitting room of her suite to the heavily carved dark wooden sideboard against one wall. She took two crystal snifters from within and then lifted the cut-crystal stopper from one of the decanters on the edged silver tray that sat on the polished surface. Alex’s warm hand closed over hers.

“Here, let me pour, hmm?”

A fine tremor ran through her as his touch sent a sizzle of electricity coursing up her arm.

She pulled away from him and forced her suddenly uncooperative legs to take her over to one of the two-seater couches. She lowered herself onto the richly upholstered fabric, yet couldn’t bring herself to sit back and relax against the cushioned back, instead perching on the edge.

Alex crossed the room and handed her one of the glasses. Loren bent her nose to the rim, taking a deep breath of the aroma of the dark amber liquid before lifting it to her lips and allowing the alcohol to trickle over her tongue and down her throat. She never normally drank hard spirits, but she had the distinct feeling that tonight she was going to need it.

She swallowed, welcoming the burn the distilled liquor left in its path, and watched as Alex sat down opposite her. He unbuttoned his jacket and reached inside, drawing out a folded paper packet. He carefully placed the packet on the coffee table between them, then took a sip of his cognac.

The liquid left a slight sheen upon his lips, capturing her gaze with the inevitability of a moth to a flame. He pressed his lips together, dissipating the residue, allowing her to look away.

“Is that what you want to discuss?” Loren pressed as he made no effort to explain the papers he’d laid before them.

“Yes. It’s a legal document I need you to read and sign before we are married. Someone can take you into the notary’s office tomorrow for it to be witnessed.”

“What kind of legal document?” Loren asked, not even bothering to point out that she could quite capably make her own way into the city.

Alex’s dark eyes bored into hers. “A prenuptial document.”

“Well, that is only to be expected,” Loren said matter-of-factly, even as she forced herself to quell the swell of disappointment that rose within her. Did he really find such a document necessary?

As far as she was concerned, this marriage was forever. She had no desire and no plans to ever leave Alex, nor, if such a heartbreaking event should occur, could she imagine she would ever make unreasonable financial demands against him.

“Perhaps it would be best if you read it first. If you have any questions I’m sure the notary will be able to answer them for you.”

Alex put down his glass and rose from his seat. “I’d better get going. I have an early flight tomorrow.”

“Flight?” Loren asked. “Where? May I come with you?”

“It is nothing but a business trip to Seville. You would be bored. Which reminds me, you will need to ask Reynard or Benedict to take you to the notary as Giselle will be accompanying me. Actually, best to call on Reynard. Benedict drives like a demented race-car driver at the best of times and I would hate for anything to happen to you before the wedding.”

Loren fought back the bitter disappointment his words evoked in her. “I’ll bear that in mind,” she replied through stiff lips. “When will you be back?”

“In a couple of days, certainly no more than three.”

Three days away with Giselle? Loren felt the news deep in her gut, as if it was a physical blow. Perhaps her earlier fears of today were true after all.

“Good night, then.” Alex walked the couple of steps that brought him to her side and bent to kiss the top of her head before leaving the room.

As she watched the heavy door of her suite close behind him she blinked against the prick of tears that had begun behind her eyes. She would not cry. She would not.

Loren reached across the table, lifted up the legal packet and slid out the folded document. Her eyes scanned the information. As unaccustomed as she was to legal jargon it all seemed to make sense until she reached a paragraph headed up with the words legal issue.

She read the paragraph, then read it again to be certain she understood the terminology. If she was correct, to ensure the continuation of the del Castillo bloodline she and Alex must make love at the time when her body was at its most fertile, and to ensure the correct timing, her menstrual cycle was to be monitored. Even the details of the clinic she would be monitored by were in the agreement.

Loren let the papers slide from suddenly nerveless fingers.

The legalese twirled around in her mind, sentences fragmenting before joining back together. Did this mean that she and Alex would only make love when she was ovulating? That was, what? A span of a few days at most in each month. And what if she got pregnant? Would he still share her bed, still make love with her as a husband did with his wife? Or would her job have been done, leaving him free to go back into Giselle’s arms?

Just what kind of marriage was she entering?

Five

Loren heard the knock at the door to her suite and wondered if perhaps her maid had forgotten something. She’d only just sent her away, preferring to spend these last few moments before her wedding alone. She picked up her voluminous skirts and went to open the door.

“Giselle!” Loren stepped back, startled to see the blonde there. She let her skirts settle back down to the carpet beneath her, the ivory French taffeta giving a distinctive rustle.

“My, don’t you look every inch the fairy-tale princess,” Giselle remarked, coming into the sitting room.

Loren tolerated the woman’s scrutiny of the dress that was the fulfillment of all her childhood dreams. Yes, she did feel like a fairy-tale princess in the strapless gown. Somehow the words from Giselle’s glossy red lips made the idea more of an insult than a compliment.