Chapter Thirteen
F or the second time that week, Raquel found herself in a hairstylist’s chair. Only this time, she wasn’t here for make-up and an elegant hairdo.
After agreeing to marry Alexandre the previous night, he had taken her on a journey of such carnal pleasure that she had passed out after the third climax.
When she awoke this morning, it was to a light breakfast, which she had eaten alone in the cabin before taking a shower.
When she got out of the shower, a pair of khaki shorts and a white t-shirt was waiting for her in the bedroom, along with her new fiancé.
It wasn’t lost on her that she’d had two fiancés in the span of two days. What did it say about her?
The clothes were on loan from a staff member, Alexandre informed her, and Raquel was grateful to have freshly laundered clothes to wear. The absence of underwear, however, bothered her, but it was quickly remedied.
The yacht docked back at the marina in the early hours of the morning, and Alexandre took her, on his motorbike, to a close friend, who turned out to be an in-demand fashion stylist.
First, Tara helped her with the essentials—some much-needed underwear and a sundress paired with comfortable footwear which she could wear to her spa appointment.
“A spa appointment? Why?” She had turned to Alexandre.
“Because you need to look the part of Alexandre Monteiro’s wife,” he’d quipped and with a wink, had walked out of the shop, leaving her in Tara’s capable hands.
She had then looked quizzically at Tara. “How should Alexandre Monteiro’s wife look?”
“Stunning,” Tara had answered, chuckling at the dubious look on her face.
Not sure how anyone could turn her—plain, mousy Raquel—into a stunning woman worthy of gracing Alexandre’s arm, she surrendered herself to Tara’s expertise.
The spa appointment was everything any woman could dream of—a no-expense-spared service consisting of a full body massage, mani-pedi, followed by herbal facial, and a thorough waxing session that had left her weeping with embarrassment and discomfort.
Afterwards, she had a simple lunch at the VIP lounge before proceeding to the hair saloon where a woman shampooed her hair, washed it before snipping off some strands, giving her some layers.
Then, she was given burgundy highlights before another wash and a blow dry session that left her hair feeling silky and smooth.
Tired after a long day where she was polished from a dull stone into something resembling a shiny crystal, Raquel thanked the staff before parking herself on one of the plush sofas, waiting for Alexandre.
So much had happened within the span of one day that her brain couldn’t compute the events of the previous day, much less the fact that she was marrying Alexandre.
She had started yesterday with insults and accusations.
Then came the phone call informing her that she was fired from her job.
At the lowest point in her life, when she had lost everything and was all alone, Alexandre had appeared, like a redeeming angel, and whisked her away from the harsh criticism of her family and the disturbing intrusion of the media.
But she hadn’t expected marriage from Alexandre, although it did seem like the next logical step.
Would she survive—a single mother, in a conservative society like theirs, where marriage was the fundamental block of society and was given the utmost importance, and premarital affairs, though rampant, were still frowned upon?
Would she have protected her child from society’s disdain that was sure to follow an illegitimate child?
Though she didn’t approve of the way Alexandre had wrung out her assent, she did agree that marriage would provide stability for her child. She couldn’t bear the thought of anyone calling her child ‘a bastard’, like her mother had called Alexandre.
But she wasn’t going to just lie back and let him run her life, Raquel decided. She wouldn’t let him distract her with sex every time she wanted to discuss something important. And she certainly wouldn’t let herself become invisible—dispensable, again.
She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t notice Alexandre when he walked into the saloon.
****
A lexandre’s pulse quickened as he stared at the vision in front of him.
His fiancée was every man’s wet dream—an elysian beauty dressed in a short, sexy dress with thin straps which exposed the slender column of her neck.
The white dress with blue flowers looked stunning against the backdrop of her dusky complexion, showing off her sexy clavicles and her slender arms. The short hem skimmed her toned thighs, and he had a vision of those legs wrapped tightly around him as he rode her, like he had the previous night.
Quickly, he bashed the thought, but his shaft was already semi-hard at the vivid image painted by his overactive imagination.
Her hair fell like a beautiful wavy curtain as it lay draped over one shoulder, covering one breast. When a frown pleated her brow, he knew she wasn’t thinking anything pleasant.
His thoughts went back to the previous night where he’d had a hard time convincing her to marry him.
He told himself that marriage was the only way to legally claim his unborn child, but the truth was he wanted Raquel, too.
She had agreed to be his wife, but he knew he had just won the fight, not the entire battle.
And a battle life with Raquel would be, he’d realized when she’d fallen asleep in his arms.
His first impression of her—shy and introverted—seemed to be in sharp contrast with the woman who squabbled with him. She was quick to anger and didn’t back down without a fight. Was she really shy and timid, or was the real Raquel a bold, confident woman who fought to make herself heard?
Curiously, he found himself attracted to both facets of her.
Her shy nature had first caught his attention, but her bold sexiness was what kept him captivated.
Somehow, she’d snuck inside him and made a place for herself in his heart when no other woman had ever been able to do so before.
She bewitched him, and he found that he didn’t mind it one bit.
He wanted her from the first time he’d laid eyes on her, and he wanted her still, even after five weeks.
He’d never given marriage much thought before but tying himself to Raquel didn’t feel like a life sentence. In fact, he eagerly looked forward to it. However, he wasn’t sure if she was looking forward to their marriage.
Raquel certainly had endured a lot of grief in the past few days, all thanks to his one selfish act that had resulted in an unplanned pregnancy. Something in his heart twitched at the thought, and a feeling akin to sorrow pinched him. He’d ruined her life, and the thought upset him—a lot.
But he couldn’t undo the past—only better the future.
Stepping toward her, he cleared his throat.
“Alexandre!” She jumped up to her feet.
“You look beautiful,” he crooned, reaching out to grab her arm and pull her closer.
She gasped when her breasts brushed against his chest, pouring molten lava into his veins. Brown eyes stared up at him, wide and shy, as painted lips parted, her breath brushing his chin.
Heat pooled in his loins as he inspected her thoroughly.
Her eyebrows were plucked into thin arches and her eyelids were painted a soft brown matching her lipstick which he wanted to lick off her lips. A floral scent wafted up to his nostrils making him wonder on what parts of her body she had dabbed the sexy perfume.
Clasping a bare shoulder, he turned her around, his eyes roving over her beautifully styled hair, left open, and her pert bottom which he itched to cup.
Flip flops on her feet didn’t do anything for her height.
As he turned her back to face him, he realized that he liked her looking up at him with her beautiful doe-shaped eyes.
“Very beautiful,” he murmured, heat uncoiling inside him.
“Good,” she replied, sounding relieved. “These women worked really hard. Good to know their efforts weren’t wasted.”
He frowned. Pinching her chin between his thumb and forefinger, he tilted her head up. “Why won’t you accept a compliment?”
She turned red, her eyes sliding away from his, concentrating on his chin instead. “I know I’m not pretty like your other women.”
“And how do you know about the other women?”
“Women gossip, you know.”
He cursed.
Timidly, she bowed her head, her hands clinging on to his shirt.
“You are the most stunning woman I’ve ever met.” When he said those words, he knew it was true. He’d never met anyone like her before—a potent combination of shy and bold. She was kind and polite, with an uncanny ability to see through him.
Hadn’t she seen his tattoo and guessed exactly why he’d got it? Hadn’t she protected his child when she’d wrongly believed that he wanted to get rid of it? And hadn’t she agreed to marry him to give their child legitimacy?
She was a good mother—willing to protect her child even in the womb and was nothing like his own mother who had used him to her own benefit.
A feeling he’d never experienced before tightened in his chest, but Alexandre didn’t pause to examine it closely. Instead, he covered Raquel’s mouth with his.
Her lips parted open as his tongue swept in to claim her. She moaned, slumping against him, her hands wrapping around his waist, rubbing her breasts unashamedly against his chest.
He groaned as he lengthened against her. The sweet scent of her perfume filled his nostrils as the sweetness of her mouth filled his senses. Tearing his mouth off her lips, he rested his forehead against hers. Their loud, harsh breathing mingled.
“Let’s get out of here before I yank up your dress and take you right here.”