Honour-Bound Groom / Cinderella & the CEO. Maureen Child
she approached the room where Alex had said to meet. Loren quashed the lingering effects of the sense of disquiet that had hit her earlier and focused instead on the prospect of an evening with the man she’d loved for as long as she could remember. Nothing could go wrong now, nothing. Her life was finally what she’d always dreamed it would be.
With a smile on her face, she entered the salon and was treated to the impeccable manners of four gentlemen rising from their seats to welcome her. Loren nodded in greeting to Reynard and Benedict, each easily recognizable and, she noted with some surprise, unaccompanied by female adornments.
Alex stood a little to one side. His hair, still wet from a recent shower, was slicked back off his forehead, giving him a sartorial edge that went well with the black suit and shirt he’d donned for the evening. But the serious set to his mouth and his darkened jawline made him appear unapproachable.
His dark eyes caught hers and burned beneath slightly drawn brows. She felt her smile waver a little under his gaze, but then he smiled in return and it was as if another giant weight had been lifted from her.
“You look beautiful,” he said, his eyes glowing in appreciation.
A flood of pleasure coursed through her at his words, warming her all the way to her toes.
“Come, say hello to Abuelo. He has been impatient to see you.”
She crossed the room, straight toward the silver-haired figure nearest the fireplace. Despite the fact it was May, a fire roared in the cavernous depths, throwing heat into the room and adding a cheerful ambience that chased the last of the lingering shadows from Loren’s mind.
From his proximity to the fire she deduced Alex’s grandfather felt the chill far more than he used to, and she couldn’t help noticing the slight droop to one side of his face and the way he leaned heavily on an ebony cane. It saddened her to see he’d aged so much since she’d left, but one look at the spark in his eyes showed her that Abuelo was still very much the patriarch and very much in control.
Her lips curved in genuine pleasure as she placed her hands in his gnarled ones and leaned in to kiss him on the cheeks.
“Bienvenido a casa, mi niña,” he murmured in his gruff voice. “It is past time you were back.”
“It is so good to be home, Abuelo,” she replied, using the moniker he’d insisted she call him back when she was a child.
“Come, sit by me and tell me what foolishness has kept you from us for so long.”
The old man settled back into his easy chair and gestured to the seat opposite.
“Now, Abuelo, you know that Loren’s mother insisted she move to New Zealand with her,” Alex said, coming to stand behind Loren’s chair and resting one hand upon her shoulder. “Besides, you cannot monopolize her when she is here to see everyone.”
Loren felt the heat from his palm against her bare skin and leaned into his touch, relishing the sizzling contact.
“I do not see any ring upon her finger, Alexander. You cannot monopolize her while she is yet a free woman.”
“Ah, but that is where you are wrong, Abuelo,” Alex teased in return. “Loren is most definitely mine.”
A fierce pang of joy shot through her, catching her breath, at his words. If she’d had any doubts, they were now assuaged.
Loren felt Alex’s hand slide down the length of her arm, to her left hand. Clasping it, he drew her upright to face him. Butterflies danced in her stomach as she saw the intensity in his dark eyes. Alex was a man who obviously thought deeply, not sharing those thoughts with many, but if the possessive fire she glimpsed burning bright in his gaze was any indicator, she had no doubt that he was about to stake his claim to her before his family.
Alex slipped his free hand into his jacket pocket and withdrew it again.
“This is a mere formality, as Loren has already consented to be my wife, but I want you, mi familia, to witness my pledge to marry her,” Alex announced as he revealed the ring in his hand.
“That’s if she hasn’t taken one look at us and changed her mind,” Reynard taunted his elder brother and was rewarded with a quelling glare.
“I h-haven’t. I w-wouldn’t,” Loren stuttered slightly as she saw the exquisitely beautiful, smooth, oval ruby set in old gold.
“Then this is for you,” Alex murmured, sliding the ring upon her engagement finger.
The gold felt warm against her skin and the ring fit as if it was made for her and her alone. She’d recognized it immediately when he’d drawn it from his pocket. The del Castillo betrothal ring, handed down from firstborn son to firstborn son, had been in the family for centuries. The last woman to wear it had been Alex’s mother.
The gold filigree on each shoulder of the ring had been crafted into delicate heart shapes and the stone appeared to take on a new glow against her skin.
“It’s beautiful, Alex. Thank you,” she said, lifting her eyes to meet his. “I’m honored to accept this.”
“No, Loren, you honor me by agreeing to become my wife.”
“I’ve always loved you, Alex. It’s no more than I’ve ever wanted.”
The air between them stilled, solidified, almost becoming something corporeal before Benedict interrupted them with two glasses of champagne. He thrust one at each of them.
“This calls for a toast, yes?”
He passed another glass to their grandfather before raising one of his own.
“To Alex and Loren. May they have many happy years.”
A look passed between the brothers, something unspoken that hovered in the air as they connected silently with one another, then as one lifted their glasses to drink. Whatever it was, it was soon gone as sibling rivalry and teasing took over the atmosphere, leading even Abuelo to laugh and admonish them gently, reminding them of the lady in their midst.
Now she really belonged, Loren thought as she smiled and sipped the vintage French champagne, letting the bubbles dance along her tongue much as happiness danced through her veins. And, as the subtle lighting in the room caught the ruby on her finger, she knew that no matter how distant Alex had been today, everything was now perfect in her world.
Four
“I see he’s given you that old thing.”
Loren forced her shoulders to relax and her instincts not to bristle at Giselle’s throwaway remark. It was three days after her arrival at the castillo and the first time she’d been forced back into Giselle’s company. Days that had been filled with dress fittings and learning her responsibilities toward the staff at the castle. At least in the matter of her wedding dress she’d been able to choose for herself. As far as the wedding ceremony and reception went, Loren had been forced, with so little time left, to refrain from making any changes.
She chewed over Giselle’s comment about the ruby. Clearly the woman wanted to belittle both her and Alex’s gift, but she’d chosen the wrong target. What would the other woman know, or even begin to understand, of del Castillo tradition and the importance and validation behind having received the ring Alex had given her?
“I’d have asked for something more modern myself,” the other woman continued.
Giselle lifted one hand from the steering wheel of the car in which she’d just picked Loren up from the castillo. Shafts of sunlight caught on the diamond tennis bracelet she wore on one wrist.
“Something more like this.”
Loren merely smiled. “Your bracelet is beautiful, but I prefer knowing that there is only one of this ring and understanding the history behind it. I feel privileged to be chosen to wear it.”
And she did feel privileged.