Her Best Kept Royal Secret by Lynne Graham

CHAPTER EIGHT

GABYTOOKAfinal spin in front of the cheval mirror and the silk crepe skirt overlaid with Italian silk studded with crystals and mother-of-pearl teardrops flared out with the sleek weight of a luxury finish round her legs.

The off-the-shoulder design and skilled shaping at waist and hip flattered her curves while the narrow column of the skirt and her high heels gave her extra height. With the fabulous tiara anchored like a coronet of diamond fire in her mass of upswept copper hair, and the sapphire earrings and matching pendant, she knew that she had never looked better, and that knowledge gave her much-needed confidence.

‘Absolutely fantastic,’ Liz sighed fondly, snapping yet another photo with her phone.

‘Are you ready, ladies?’ Cassia asked brightly from the doorway. ‘Could I have a private word with the bride before we leave for the ceremony?’

Liz walked straight out but Laurie walked across to the dressing table and fluffed her hair, taking her time over departing. Cassia, sheathed in a stylish cinnamon-coloured dress looked as glossy and bandbox fresh as if she had stepped straight off a magazine cover. She closed the door to ensure the conversation could not be overheard and Gaby’s brow furrowed, her tension suddenly increasing.

‘Cassia?’ she questioned uneasily.

‘I’ve agonised long and hard over whether or not to tell you about my personal relationship with Angel,’ the blonde told her calmly. ‘But, going forward, I prefer to be honest and open...’

‘I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about,’ Gaby admitted in a strained undertone.

‘Angel and I have been lovers for years and I don’t expect that to change after the wedding,’ Cassia murmured, her face flushed, her pale eyes cast modestly down. ‘We have a long-term, convenient connection. You will have to accept that if you want your marriage to work. Angel expects to do as he likes when he likes and that will not change.’

Gaby’s chin lifted, her eyes cool as Cassia’s drawling tone of self-satisfaction sent ice splinters travelling through her tummy. ‘I don’t believe you,’ she retorted flatly.

She knew Angel better than she had years earlier and she recognised his essential streak of honour and decency, which was also laced with honesty. She doubted very much that Angel was indulging in some grubby sexual relationship with an employee behind closed doors.

That bold proclamation of disbelief seemed to disconcert the other woman. Cassia straightened her shoulders, her pale blue eyes sharp and glassy with the sheer loathing she had previously worked so hard to hide but which now shone like a beacon in her gaze. ‘I assure you that I am telling you the truth. For goodness’ sake, why on earth would I lie to you about such a thing?’

Gaby resisted a powerful urge to enlighten Cassia about the effects of jealousy, rage and resentment on the female psyche. Cassia had patiently waited for her moment backstage for years while Angel entertained himself with an endless variety of women. Possibly, Cassia had assumed that age and boredom would make Angel switch his focus to matrimony and finally acknowledge that his reliable friend and right-hand woman, Cassia, would make the perfect wife. But, sadly for her, it hadn’t happened. Not only had Angel failed to demonstrate any pressing need to settle down, but he had also fathered a son who could not be ignored with another woman. And all of a sudden, Cassia had found herself out in the cold, serving a rival whom she viewed as vastly inferior to her superior self.

‘You’re lying,’ Gaby stated with quiet conviction. ‘I understand why and I’m sorry that you feel the way that you obviously do, but there is nothing anyone can do to change the situation and I fully intend to marry Angel today.’

‘You’ll regret this!’ Cassia hissed in a seething undertone. ‘Believe me, you’ll regret it! I’ll make your life hell and don’t doubt that I have the power to do it!’

All that Gaby regretted at that moment was the knowledge that she would have to share their conversation with Angel. How could she possibly work with or accept advice from a woman who hated her? She wasn’t looking forward to having to explain why that was so to Angel, who would not be happy because he had long regarded Cassia as a dependable friend.

‘And you really don’t think that there’s a shred of truth to her story?’ Laurie prompted her friend worriedly fifteen minutes later during their drive to the cathedral.

Gaby’s dark blue eyes were calm. ‘I don’t. I’m a good observer and I’ve never seen even a hint of physical familiarity or sexual awareness between them. It was Cassia’s last-ditch attempt to wreck the wedding but, unfortunately for her, it didn’t work.’

Liz was frowning. ‘I can’t see Angel having an affair with a member of his staff...and why would he want to anyway? He’s never been short of female attention. You’ll have to tell him what she said.’

Gaby winced. ‘Some time obviously but not today. I’m not going to let Cassia get to me.’

Laurie smiled. ‘That’s the right attitude to have. But just the same, I’ll send you the recording.’

Gaby’s eyes widened. ‘Recording? What recording?’

‘I don’t trust Cassia. I left my phone on the dressing table in the bedroom to record your conversation before I left you alone with her,’ she confided.

‘My word, my sister, the consummate spy!’ Liz gasped in delight.

‘You recorded us?’ Gaby prompted in astonishment as her friend simply nodded and grimaced.

‘Sorry, I just didn’t trust her at all...’

Walking down the aisle in the echoing grandeur of the cathedral with its soaring ceilings and packed pews demanded every bit of Gaby’s confidence. She worked at keeping her head high, looking neither left nor right even as she felt the rustle of turning heads and heard the low murmur of comment that accompanied her passage. Angel wanted her to be his wife. That knowledge lifted her. It was only that the packed cathedral and her new status were a little intimidating. At the altar she saw Angel with another equally tall black-haired man by his side and she saw Angel swing round to openly stare as she approached, and colour flared like a burning banner in her cheeks.

One look at his bride and Angel was riveted to the spot. Gabriella’s dress clung lovingly to her shapely curves and yet exposed only her creamy shoulders. Her glorious hair was piled in a vibrant copper mass on top of her head, providing a wonderful setting for the superb tiara glittering below the lights. The priceless sapphires merely enhanced her bright blue eyes and the luminosity of her skin.

‘I’m impressed, little brother,’ Crown Prince Saif of Alharia murmured softly from behind him. ‘You did better than well.’

Angel’s calm soothed Gaby’s galloping nerves. They might have been alone in the room for all the attention he paid to their surroundings and their audience. She supposed that level of sangfroid only came with practice and experience. During the ceremony, he lifted her hand to slide on the platinum wedding ring and she glanced up, ensnared by his stunning tigerish eyes, and her heart started to race in spite of the acid reminders she was pushing quite deliberately through her brain.

This was the guy who had blackmailed her to the altar and trapped her between a rock and a hard place by using her precious son as a weapon against her. And he might have tried to wrap up his behaviour in clean linen by insisting that he was only thinking of what was best for all three of them but, in truth, Angel had merely utilised his power to get what he wanted at speed and with minimal personal effort. And he hadn’t given her any time at all to adjust to the new status quo. Worse still, his demand for ‘normal’ in such an abnormal marriage was even less reasonable.

Desperately stoking up her anger in self-defence, she listened while the priest spoke timeless words over their bent heads. She looked at the ring on her hand and contemplated a truth she had long avoided. She had been in love with Angel at university, but she had refused to admit it to herself. In those days, unhappily, she had underestimated Angel’s stubborn, wilful streak. She had assumed that he would compromise over the NDA she had refused to sign. She had failed to recognise just how ruthless Angel was at heart, not to mention how swiftly he would move on from her. The hurt inflicted by that rejection had taught her not to assume that a man would react the same way she did to obstacles. Angel hadn’t cared enough about her to reconsider his boundaries or his rules. Indeed, when she had coincidentally seen him kissing that other woman at the party, he had been demonstrating his indifference to her...and hitting back. Don’t forget that, she reminded herself doggedly. Angel was a vengeful soul.

Indeed, so fiercely and efficiently did Gaby revive her every worst thought and feeling about Angel that her profile might have been chipped out of pure ice as they walked back down the aisle again, his arm resting lightly at the base of her rigid spine. Only at that point did she register that she was reviving her negative outlook as a defence against the other powerful emotions flooding her. Angel and what he might do and what he thought meant so much to her because she still loved him.

It was a moment of revelation that shook and stunned Gaby in the wake of that anxious flood of critical recollections. Fear of allowing Angel to have that power over her again had made her throw up every possible barrier because naturally she didn’t want to get hurt again. Only, sadly, her emotions and the world in general were not under her control.

‘You look stunning,’ Angel murmured softly. ‘But you can smile now.’

‘To do that I would have to have something to smile about,’ Gaby countered in a dry joke, her mouth quirking as they walked out onto the steps, and dismay gripped her when she realised that television cameras awaited them.

Angel caught both her hands in his and tugged her round to face at him. ‘We did it for Alexios but that doesn’t mean that we can’t enjoy being together,’ he told her softly, his dark drawl roughening as he gazed down at her. ‘Or that we can’t make a huge success of this marriage.’

His striking dark golden eyes held hers with savage intensity, as though he were demanding that she concede those points. A flush of heat and awareness enveloped her entire body, slowly sliding over her prickling skin like a silken caress, awakening every nerve ending and causing a tightening at her feminine core. The sensation was so strong that it almost hurt, and the tip of her tongue slid out to wet her taut lower lip.

‘Don’t do that when we’re in public,’ Angel warned her in a roughened sensual undertone. ‘It turns me on way too much.’

Gaby’s eyes widened and the butterflies tumbled in her stomach and for the space of ten seconds there was nothing and nobody else in the world for her. He linked his fingers with hers and walked her down the steps past the flashing cameras and shouted congratulations. She was still trying to catch her breath as he tucked her into the waiting limousine.

‘I’m looking forward to introducing you to my brother, Saif, and his wife, Tatiana, at the reception,’ Angel volunteered with a shimmering smile.

‘You have a brother?’ Gaby exclaimed with incredulity, still struggling to shake herself free of the sensual spell that he could cast. ‘Since when did you have a brother?’

‘A half-brother from my mother’s first marriage,’ he explained. ‘My brother is the Crown Prince of Alharia. Our mother was married to his father, the Emir, first. She deserted the Emir and my baby brother to run off with my father. The divorce was very discreet. I was born only weeks after my parents married.’

‘Why was your relationship with your brother kept a secret?’ Gaby prompted in curiosity.

‘Saif’s father is old and ill and still sensitive to that ancient scandal. Saif knew the Emir would be upset if he admitted that he had sought me out, but he finally bit the bullet and owned up. Today he just turned up and told me that he intended to be my best man. I was shocked,’ Angel confided with a softened light in his gaze. ‘But I was very pleased to have him by my side.’

‘I can see you were,’ Gaby admitted, jolted by the emotion unhidden in his expressive eyes. ‘Oh, my goodness, now I know what you were doing in Alharia when we met again! Obviously, I guessed you were a wedding guest but—’

‘Yes, I flew in for Saif’s wedding only to discover that I couldn’t show my face at the event in case I was recognised. He hadn’t told his father about our friendship at that stage,’ Angel told her heavily. ‘That was a sobering experience...’

Gaby wondered how much experiencing that disappointment that same day, over his brother’s reluctance to acknowledge their familial bond, had influenced Angel in his attitude towards her that night when Alexios had been conceived. ‘I expect it was...and Saif must have felt it too. I’m sure he must’ve felt that he was letting you down,’ she remarked thoughtfully. ‘That’s why he was so determined to show up for your wedding and show the world that he is your brother and proud of it.’

Angel glanced at her with veiled appreciation, impressed by her understanding. ‘He’s sensitive that way, more so than me. I did understand how difficult a position he was in, with the Emir having a weak heart. That’s why Saif being here today with his wife and son means a great deal to me. Their son, Amir, is almost the same age as Alexios...’

‘And our sons will totally ignore each other,’ Gaby forecast with a chuckle. ‘They’re too young to be playmates yet.’

Much of the tension that had gripped her in the cathedral had drained away again. ‘So, your mother left Saif behind in Alharia as a baby when she met your father. That must’ve been a very difficult decision for her to make.’

Angel shot her a wry shuttered glance. ‘I doubt it. She didn’t like children much. She never saw Saif again and she didn’t try to see him either. Saif swears that his father would have allowed her access to him, but she never asked for it. Instead, she acted as though he had never been born.’

In receipt of that rather astonishing information, Gaby widened her eyes, and her lips parted in a soundless ‘oh’ of surprise. Saying that she didn’t like children much was a very revealing admission to make about one’s mother, she reflected on a surge of frustrated curiosity, but, as the limousine was drawing up at the palace, she clamped her tongue between her teeth and said nothing before gathering herself to walk back into public view.

A photo session had been set up in one of the grand ground-floor reception rooms. The wedding party was the main feature of those photos. She was briefly introduced to Prince Saif, who grinned at her and waved at a small blonde carrying a baby. ‘My wife, Tatiana. She’s dying to meet you.’

‘I shall look forward to it,’ Gaby said warmly as Marina appeared in the background with Alexios.

‘Do you have any objection to Alexios joining us for the photos?’ Angel murmured covertly. ‘I thought it would be a pleasant, unfussy way of introducing him to our country.’

‘No, I think it’s a good idea,’ Gaby agreed, flushing as the photographer sent her a reproachful look as he tried to keep everyone engaged with the session. ‘But I’d agree to anything right now to get my paws on my son again. I’ve hardly seen Alexios since we arrived.’

‘It looks as though he feels much the same way,’ Angel remarked, watching his son squirm frantically in Marina’s hold and stretch out desperate arms in his mother’s direction.

Gaby clasped her son and endeavoured to restrain him from bouncing on her lap. Angel grabbed him and occupied him for a few minutes. The photo session came to an end. Alexios returned sleepily to Marina, and Angel and Gaby greeted their guests in the ballroom where the meal was being served. She met Saif’s wife, Tatiana, and took to her immediately. Her warmth and friendliness were very welcome, and it was no time before the two women and Liz and Laurie were discussing babies and laughing while Alexios and Amir sat on a rug side by side, only noticing each other when the more mobile Alexios moved to snatch at a toy that Amir also had his eye on.

Laurie approached her when they were taking their seats for the meal. ‘Have you told Angel yet about Cassia?’ she asked covertly. ‘I’ve sent you the recording.’

‘Thanks...no, not yet. I’ll choose a quieter moment,’ Gaby declared, reluctant to admit that she really didn’t want to tackle the topic or make use of the recording. It seemed underhand.

In addition, Gaby didn’t like attacking or confronting people. Perhaps resentment had sent Cassia recklessly over the edge and she would regret her wild claim and the subject would never be mentioned again. Did she really want to be responsible for Cassia being disgraced and losing her job? Gaby didn’t believe that Cassia was Angel’s occasional mistress, she really didn’t...but she supposed there was always the chance that she was being foolishly blind and naive, and she had to share that little scene with Angel.

‘So,’ Gaby whispered under cover of the music during the meal. ‘Are we going anywhere after this ends?’

‘Into the mountains to my grandparents’ hideaway,’ Angel murmured. ‘Although we have many other more glamorous options. I have a yacht and property in several major cities, but I thought that right now we would both enjoy time to decompress in a peaceful setting. Alexios and Marina will join us there tomorrow.’

‘Oh...’

‘You can tuck him in for the night before we leave,’ Angel told her teasingly.

Angel’s uncle, Prince Timon, and his wife took charge of the reception late afternoon and urged the bride and groom to make a quiet getaway.

‘Don’t take off the dress,’ Angel urged as Gaby walked towards the stairs, intending to do just that.

She spun back, soft pink warming her cheeks. ‘I was planning to put on something comfy.’

‘That doesn’t sound very sexy,’ Angel husked. ‘And the dress and the sapphires are a dynamite combo.’

‘I can’t travel to a mountain hideaway in a tiara and a wedding dress!’ she hissed back half under her breath.

‘We have one wedding day, one wedding night...this is a special occasion,’ Angel persisted, his dazzling dark golden eyes gripping her. ‘Let’s for once leave the sensible and the comfortable for another day, hara mou.’

‘I’m not always sensible!’ Gaby bit out in a mortified undertone.

His brilliant eyes gleamed. ‘If you’re not, prove it.’

It was true and she wanted to kick him for knowing the fact. She had always been sensible. Her parents had raised her that way, teaching her to set a good example for her little brother. After the death of her family and the pained awareness that her aunt really didn’t want the stress of raising a teenager and had only taken her on out of a sense of duty, Gaby had known that she could not afford to make any waves and she had focussed on being even more sensible. In denial of the obvious, she climbed into the SUV that awaited them outside the palace still in her dress and the sapphires. With incredulity, she watched Angel swing into the driving seat, sleek and assured in faded jeans and an open shirt.

‘You...changed,’ she enunciated grittily.

‘Yes...why? Were you just gasping for the opportunity to strip me out of my morning suit...or were you hoping I would do a lap dance for you and make the encounter a little more stimulating?’ Angel purred with rapier-sharp amusement.

Gaby tipped her head back, thinking that Angel in all his bronzed muscular glory was quite exciting enough without a lap dance included. ‘Well, we all have our fantasies,’ she countered, refusing to rise to the bait.

‘Care to share?’ he prompted.

‘Not right now,’ Gaby replied unevenly, keen to change the subject because when Angel mentioned intimacy, however obliquely, he threw her into a quandary because she had still to decide whether or not she intended to share a bed with him again. She liked to think things through but around Angel such straight thinking was a challenge. When she tried to weigh pros and cons into the equation it made her feel petty and appreciate that she needed to simply go with the flow.

‘I like your uncle, Prince Timon, very much,’ she remarked quietly.

‘A less than deft change of topic,’ Angel mocked. ‘Yes, Timon is a good guy and I was very lucky he agreed to accept the Regency and take charge after my father died. He had a life of his own as a business mogul in New York and he put it aside for several years for my benefit. For a younger brother, who never wanted the throne and barely knew his nephew, it was a big sacrifice. I couldn’t have managed without him though, and he taught me a great deal, particularly about business.’

‘Yes, you were only sixteen. Losing both parents together must’ve been devastating for you,’ she muttered ruefully. ‘I know I’ve never really got over losing my parents and my kid brother and I was only a couple of years younger at the time.’

Angel reached for her hand and squeezed it. ‘I know you were devastated. When you told me years ago, there were tears in your eyes and the way you talked about your parents and little brother made it obvious that you were a happy foursome. Your loss was tragic...’

‘Yes,’ she whispered unevenly.

‘The death of my parents was probably easier for me,’ Angel conceded tautly after a long stretch of silence had prompted her to turn her head and look at him enquiringly. ‘We weren’t a close family. They had their lives and I had mine and, aside from photo opportunities to sell the cosy family concept to the public, I only saw them occasionally when I was home from boarding school.’

Gaby was frowning. ‘It sounds pretty cold and artificial.’

‘It was.’

‘So why did they have you?’

‘Don’t be naive. My father needed an heir for the throne and once I was born he could relax, duty done.’

‘And your mother...you said she didn’t like children much?’

‘She didn’t but I’m not sure my father would have married her if she hadn’t got pregnant, so my conception was probably planned every step of the way,’ Angel said cynically. ‘Her family had married her off to a man old enough to be her grandfather and she wanted out of Alharia...look, I really don’t want to talk about this.’

Disconcerted by that blunt admission, Gaby swallowed hard. ‘Er... I—’

‘You seem to have an incessant curiosity where my family is concerned. I should warn you that there’s a lot of murky messy material in my background, not the sort of stuff you would enjoy hearing about,’ he assured her pointedly.

Gaby had paled, recognising that she had pushed too hard too fast for him to talk about his troubled background. He wasn’t ready yet to talk, to share with her, but time, she reflected, would make him more comfortable with her. Naturally, her curiosity had increased when she’d learned through his half-brother’s existence that there was another whole layer to his family circle.

‘I’m not a prude,’ Gaby murmured tightly, referring to his assumption that she would be upset in some way by what he called ‘murky material’ in his background. ‘Sensible doesn’t mean stuffy.’

‘A virgin at twenty-four? That speaks for itself. Look in a dictionary and under P for prude you will find an image of someone who looks remarkably like you!’ Angel riposted.

‘If you weren’t driving, I’d thump you!’ Gaby told him tartly.

‘See...sensible,’ Angel murmured, soft and smooth as silk, reaching for her hand and bringing it down on a lean, powerful thigh, the strong muscles below the taut denim flexing beneath her palm. ‘You can’t change what you are at the core.’

‘I seriously hope you’re wrong in that conviction,’ Gaby contended. ‘After all, you’re a womaniser and I don’t want to be married to a womaniser.’

‘I made the most of my freedom while I was a single man, nothing wrong with that,’ Angel asserted with unblemished cool. ‘Now I’m in a different phase of life and I want a successful marriage.’

‘That all sounds very good on paper but it’s not easy for a leopard to change his spots over the long haul,’ Gaby opined, not so easily convinced that he could be a changed man.

‘You cherish such low expectations of me, and do try not to refer to our brand-new marriage as “the long haul”. That’s downright disheartening,’ he censured while electric gates swept back to allow the SUV access to a steep track lined with trees that arched overhead in a living canopy.

The track became rough and stony and passed along the edge of a large lake, also surrounded by woodland. A sprawling stone and wood building that looked remarkably like a large Tuscan farmhouse came into view. It was very picturesque and not at all what she had expected of their destination.

‘This place hasn’t been used much since my grandfather passed away half a century ago. My parents weren’t into country life. I did think about tearing it down and replacing it with something more contemporary.’

‘Oh, no, look at those roses!’ Gaby exclaimed, already climbing out of the car to get a closer look at the superb many-petalled ivory blooms trained to frame the veranda. ‘It would be a sin to disturb them.’

She likes roses, Angel registered, watching in fascination as his bride lifted an almost reverent fingertip to stroke a velvety soft cream petal. He wondered if she would ever touch him with the same appreciation and wondered why he would even want that from her, why the sight of her hair gleaming in the sunshine, her delicate profile and the glitter of the dress sheathing those wondrous curves almost dazzled him. Sexual deprivation, he reckoned wryly. He’d be seeing unicorns in the woods next. After all, women never dazzled him.

He was not easily impressed by her sex. He knew that very few women could be trusted, for women had let him down time and time again, not least the one who had given birth to him. No, keep it all in proportion, he urged himself. Gabriella was a rare beauty, clever and entertaining and in a decidedly different style from his previous lovers, but she was also completely infuriating on a regular basis.

‘There’s a rose garden somewhere around,’ he proffered vaguely, feeling oddly guilty for that last critical thought as he thrust open the door and urged her inside. ‘I used to fish in the lake when I was a boy.’

Gaby stared at the rustic wooden stairs several feet ahead of her and shone her inquisitive gaze round the roomy hall, with its old-fashioned black-and-white photos on the walls and the cosy fireplace adorned with a basket of greenery and a vase of roses. ‘It’s charming,’ she said softly.

A little woman emerged from an ultra-modern kitchen that looked new and bobbed a curtsey. ‘This is Viola, Gabriella. She looks after the house while her husband and sons tend the vines. She’s a wonderful cook,’ he murmured in a low voice, switching to Italian as he told the older woman that she was free to finish for the day. ‘Let me show you the rest of the house...’

Upstairs he showed her into a big airy room with ancient floorboards and a high beamed ceiling but while the surroundings were old, the furnishings were modern. Pale green and white drapes fluttered in the cooling breeze emanating from the open French windows. Gaby walked through them out onto a large balcony that literally seemed to be hung on the edge of a cliff to give a fabulous view of the wooded mountain range and the agricultural land spread out in the valley below. ‘I feel as though I’m standing at the top of the world,’ Gaby murmured appreciatively.

‘Apparently, my grandparents stumbled on this place soon after they married. The house was derelict, and they rebuilt it and extended it several times. I imagine the lake sold itself because my grandfather was, apparently, a keen fisherman.’

‘But you didn’t know them personally,’ she gathered, by the way he was talking.

‘No, they had my father later in life and had passed by the time I was born. It’s a shame. By all accounts, my grandfather had the stability that my father lacked.’

Gaby tensed as Angel drew her back into the shelter of his body and slowly turned her round. ‘There are upwards of sixty hooks on the back of that dress,’ he informed her with glittering dark golden eyes.

‘I know,’ Gaby admitted with a rueful grin as she collided with those beautiful, black-fringed eyes of his. ‘But sometimes you have to work harder for what you want...’

‘Is that so? You married a guy who likes shortcuts,’ Angel told her, sweeping her up into his arms and striding back into the bedroom.

‘People who take shortcuts often pay poor attention to detail,’ Gaby warned him with dancing eyes as she gazed up at him. ‘And you are the party who chose the sixty-plus hooks for me to travel in.’

‘But I excel at detail,’ Angel swore, setting her down beside the bed and embarking on the hooks that followed her taut spine.

All of her was rigid, she registered uneasily, and not with antipathy. In fact, her whole body was tense with a wicked, almost joyful anticipation.

‘Am I allowed to take off my shoes, because they’re pinching my toes?’ Gaby whispered. ‘Or would that spoil the fantasy?’

Angel laughed and lifted her up onto the side of the bed, lifting her skirt to expose her feet. Lean brown hands curved to her slender thighs as she kicked off her heels with a wince, but she was infinitely more aware of his fingers almost absently stroking her skin. He bent to close a hand round one slender ankle and the same talented digits gently massaged her sore toes, slowly and carefully. A soft sigh of relief escaped Gaby and she leant back on her elbows to extend her foot for more of the same treatment.

Smouldering dark golden eyes gripped hers and her tummy somersaulted, heat surging at the heart of her. Her breath caught in her throat as she gazed back at him, mesmerised by the glittering intensity of his eyes set in his lean dark features. That fast she knew she had been kidding herself about having to make a decision about whether or not she would share a bed with him again. She looked at him and she craved him. It was that simple, that basic, like the tingling prickling of awareness engulfing her and the surge of blood rushing through her veins, making her agonisingly conscious of certain parts of her body.

‘Theos mou... I want you,’ Angel growled, hauling her up to him to snatch a raw, hungry kiss awash with so much passion that it sizzled. ‘I was burning for you the instant I saw you in the cathedral. You looked ravishing... I couldn’t believe you were mine.’

Her lips pink and lush from the onslaught of his, she pulled him down to her and tasted his sensual mouth again for herself, rejoicing in the hard strength and weight of him over her, desperate for that connection. The plunge of his tongue lit her up inside like a firework display and she squirmed, trembling as his fingertips brushed her bare thigh, eased beneath the lace edge of her knickers and stroked the swollen folds between her legs. She jerked, wildly oversensitive to the smallest touch.

‘Angel, please...’ she hissed, needing more, wanting more with every fibre of her body.

‘Detail at which I excel...’ Angel reminded her raggedly, tugging her back upright again, turning her around and attacking the hooks afresh. ‘I must demonstrate a little finesse.’

He spread back the fabric from her spine and pressed his lips to a quivering shoulder blade. Her breath hitched low in her throat and hung suspended as he released the hooks one by one while trailing his mouth very lightly over the most sensitive span of skin on her back. It was sensual, rawly sexual, everything Angel could promise with one burning look and her body behaved accordingly, her breasts feeling constricted inside her fancy bridal corset, her nipples peaking into tight buds, the dampness of response pooling between her thighs.

As the last hook released he tugged on the sleeves and her wedding dress tumbled round her toes. The faintly cooler air from the open windows cooled her overheated skin. Angel closed a hand round a slender shoulder and urged her back to face him.

‘How am I supposed to stay in control when you look like every guy’s fantasy?’ Angel enquired, a faint flush scoring his high cheekbones as he scanned the delicate palest blue beribboned mini corset, the diaphanous knickers and the suspenders anchored to the silk stockings.

That he could not hide how impressed he was sent a shot of pure adrenalin powering through Gaby’s lack of confidence. With one bedazzled appraisal, in that moment Angel made her feel like the most seductive, gorgeous woman alive. ‘You don’t need to...er...stay in control,’ she murmured.

‘I didn’t the last time,’ Angel muttered in a haunted undertone.

A fractured memory of that night crept back into Gaby’s brain, the sort of recollection she had rigorously suppressed for almost eighteen months. But just then she was remembering that wild, seething passion that had gripped them both throughout that night, incomprehensibly rising again and again even when she ached in every limb, even while she marvelled at how utterly compulsive, how driven sex was with him and not at all the less involved, more casual activity that she had once vaguely imagined it would be in her ignorance.

‘Yes...but it was...amazing,’ she almost whispered, colour warming her cheeks.

His dark golden eyes smouldered like molten honey. ‘And for me,’ he confessed grittily, as though it pained him to admit the fact.

He disconcerted her then by dropping to his knees to tug down the filmy knickers. Stiff with self-consciousness, she stepped out of them. That night in Alharia, she had not had to deal with the embarrassment of her nakedness, but here it was broad daylight and her body had changed from what it had been eighteen months earlier. Her hips had widened, her breasts were larger, her tummy was no longer perfectly flat and taut while silvery stretch marks and a C-section scar marred skin that had once been smooth.

His long fingers holding her steady, he used his mouth on her heated flesh. A ripple of raw arousal shimmied through her like an intoxicating drug. She told herself she would stop him, because standing there in the sunshine with that happening to her seemed totally shameless, but instead of stopping him her fingers sank into his luxuriant black hair and little gasps of sheer bliss were wrenched from her.

And then, right when she was on the very edge of satisfaction, Angel vaulted upright and lifted her back onto the side of the bed. ‘Angel—’ she began.

‘I don’t want you to come until I’m inside you, hara mou,’ Angel husked, unzipping his jeans at speed and ripping open a foil packet with his teeth like a man on a mission to win a marathon.

‘I’m on the pill now!’ she heard herself exclaim as if that were relevant, when really, she thought a second later, it wasn’t in the same way because they were married.

For a split second, Angel paused, a frown line dividing his black brows, and then he flashed her a brilliant smile. ‘Good to know...’ he muttered thickly.

There was a moment when he stood over her, fully erect and ready for action, and her heart thumped so hard she was afraid that he would hear it. The urgency in his every movement only reflected the crazy pent-up need clawing at her. He tipped her back with ruthless hands and sank into her hard and fast and she cried out at the intensity of the sensation, the ripple of response clenching her as his piercings increased her sensitivity.

‘Did I hurt you?’ he exclaimed, suddenly freezing.

‘No!’she gasped frantically. ‘Don’t stop!’

Angel grinned wickedly down at her, black hair tousled by her fingers. He shifted his lean hips with expert precision, sending delicious feelings tumbling back through her again, answering the hunger controlling her with his own. Excitement laced her pleasure, her heart pounding, her body quivering with surging response. Need was a tight knot deep in her pelvis, pushing her ever on towards fulfilment. As he set a hard rhythm, pounding into her, sensation piled on sensation. Angel had incredible stamina and within minutes an explosive climax took hold of her. With pleasure roaring through every fibre of her body, she cried out and flopped back on the bed, weak in the aftermath.

Angel tugged her up into a sitting position and released her from the corset, rolling down the stockings with quiet efficiency. Then he removed the tiara and the rest of her jewellery and set it aside. ‘Are you hungry?’ he asked her.

‘My goodness, no,’ she mumbled, smothering a yawn.

He pulled back the bedding and gently rolled her unresisting body below the sheet. ‘Get some sleep.’

‘It’s our wedding night,’ she reminded him guiltily.

‘And you’ve already surpassed my every expectation,’ he murmured softly, smoothing her tangled hair back from her brow. ‘I’m going for a shower and then I’m coming to bed too. It has been a very long week.’

‘Yes,’ she agreed drowsily. ‘I have to talk to you about Cassia soon.’

Unseen, Angel grimaced, although he could not say that declaration had been unexpected. Cassia had been hostile to Gabriella even at university and possibly it had been unreasonable of him to assume that Cassia’s cool assistance would be welcome to his bride. Sadly, there was nobody more efficient or informed on his staff, he reasoned wryly, but that was life. Unlike him, other people let personal feelings get involved and that always caused trouble.

Yet he couldn’t be sorry that he had married Gaby, instead of Cassia, who had once looked so perfect on paper. Now he recognised how Gaby’s warmth, both as a personality and as a parent, drew him, how stupendous their sexual connection was proving to be and how intriguing he found that lively outspoken independence of hers.