Chapter Eighteen
A fter a half hour session of carefully scripted photographs for the press, the bride and the groom set off to the reception along with the small posy of guests.
The late afternoon reception, or if one could call afternoon tea a wedding reception, was held at Alexandre’s gargantuan mansion by the sea. After toasting the newly married couple, the staff made themselves scarce as Raquel joined Alexandre on one of the many balconies facing the sea.
A flustered looking Ana sat beside Leandro, who was an education in composure.
He didn’t look the least bit uncomfortable sitting beside two women, both of whom had been offered to him in marriage, only to reject him.
Neither did he show any animosity toward his half-brother who had swiped his fiancée right from under his nose!
Raquel sat stiffly in her chair as finger sandwiches, mini cakes, and scones were arranged artfully at the small table on beautiful gauzy tablecloth and tea was poured into fine china cups reserved only for special occasions.
After the mind-numbing kiss at the chapel, her brain cells had declared a strike.
She couldn’t even hold a thought! The panty-melting kiss had all but liquified her bones and had instantly dampened the flesh between her legs.
In a haze, she had posed for photographs with Ana and Leandro, but it didn’t escape her notice that Alexandre cared enough to include his staff in the photographs, too.
Another small kiss for the press had ended the photo session, but it kept her blood zinging and her heart pounding. All the reasons why she should detach herself emotionally from her new husband flew out of her mind.
One kiss was all it took to turn her brain into mush and her body into a raging inferno of need.
Her breasts hardened, and the flesh between her legs clenched with shameless need.
How could she want a man who wouldn’t give her an emotional commitment?
Could their marriage survive on a diet of lust alone?
A warm hand clasped around hers, jerking her from her thoughts as Alexandre leaned toward her. “Dreaming of our wedding night, darling?”
She shot him an angry glare before looking surreptitiously at her sister and her now brother-in-law. The knowing looks on their faces had her blushing furiously.
“I think we should leave the newly-weds on their own.” Leandro stood up, and so did Ana. Stepping toward Alexandre, Leandro shook his hand. To Raquel, he said, “Make sure my brother treats you well. If not, let me know.”
Ana hugged her next and kissed her on the cheek before turning to Alexandre. “Take care of my sister.”
Alexandre nodded somberly beside her, and Raquel watched with tearful eyes as her sister left with Leandro.
“I need to get out of this dress,” she mumbled, hurrying toward her room before Alexandre saw the tears that spilled down her cheeks.
Back in her room, Raquel angrily yanked the hairpins out of her hair, her thick mane falling like a rumpled blanket around her shoulders. Reaching behind her, she began to remove the pearl buttons that dotted the length of her spine.
She was able to remove two buttons before her arms began to hurt and her fingers began to pinch.
She would need at least another set of hands to help her out of the dress, she reckoned.
If she weren’t feeling so emotional, she would have had the presence of mind to ring for one of the staff members, but she didn’t want anyone seeing her weep on her wedding day.
When Ana left her, a profound sense of loss had stabbed her. It’d felt as though Ana had abandoned her altogether, although it was silly that she felt that way. Ana hadn’t deserted her. She’d simply gone home, so she could be alone with her new husband.
A frisson of apprehension coupled with excitement, scythed through her.
Husband. Alexandre was her husband now!
“Do you need help with the dress?”
She jumped as her heart leapt into her throat. Quickly, she swiped at her face, brushing away the evidence of tears. “I can get one of the girls to help me,” she replied, not prepared to feel her husband’s touch on her body—at least not yet.
“Everyone left,” he informed her rather cheerfully as he stepped into the room, and she ripened with anticipation. He came to stand behind her, settling his hands proprietorially on her hips. “What are you doing in this room? Your place is with me—in my bedroom.”
His scent—strong and musky—permeated her senses, flooding her mind with lascivious thoughts.
She wanted to turn around and bury her nose in his throat, inhale the musk of his skin and fill her nostrils with his scent.
Her mouth yearned for a taste of his flesh and her fingers itched to touch every inch of him.
Did he feel the same heat in his belly like she did?
Her breath strangled in her throat when he lowered his head.
She waited for a kiss on her nape but was disappointed when he simply began to unbutton her dress.
Her heart thundered and sweat gathered between her breasts as he patiently undid each button.
As her dress loosened, she clasped a hand against her breast to keep the dress from sliding down to the floor, baring her completely to his gaze.
She only had lace panties under the dress which, to her embarrassment, her husband noticed too, because his sharp intake of breath filled her ear.
Hot fingers grazed the line of her spine and she failed to stifle a moan as she arched under his touch.
Liquid heat pooled in her femininity as lust tightened in her belly.
Hot breath fanned her nape as he continued to tease her flesh, his fingers leaving a trail of fire as he caressed her.
“Raquel...”
Suddenly, she pulled away from his touch. She couldn’t succumb to his practiced seduction—not now when she was highly emotional and not thinking straight.
“I... I’m tired. I think I’ll lie down for a bit.”
A dark expression flashed across his face and Raquel steeled herself for his admonition, but he surprised her when he said wryly, “Not married a day, and already denied my rights as a husband.”
“I...” Confounded, she shook her head.
“Very well, then.” He turned around, but as he was about to leave, he looked at her over his shoulder. “Rest well. We have a long night ahead of us tonight.”
****
I t was dusk when she opened her eyes. Frowning, she sat up when she didn’t see the familiar silhouette of palm trees outside the window. One look at the furniture in the room, and she knew instantly this wasn’t the room she had used since coming to Alexandre’s house.
This was a bigger room, with a larger bed, and two walls completely made of glass. Was that the sea outside?
Getting up, she walked over to the glass wall, and looked out, gasping when she found the sea shimmering in the waning light of the day. This was the master bedroom, she realized with a start. Surely, it belonged to the master of the house! But how had she ended up here?
“Like the view?”
She spun around and stared at Alexandre, her near-naked husband who watched her indolently from across the room. He’d freshly showered, that much was obvious from the water beading on his chest and the loosely knotted towel at his waist.
Her breasts swelled and pebbled beneath the flimsy nightie she wore, and saliva pooled in her mouth as her hungry eyes raked over his ripped body.
Heat pooled low in her belly as lust blasted through her.
She wanted him, and from the way his dark eyes gleamed, he knew it, too.
But Raquel quickly snuffed the voracious hunger that reared its head.
She couldn’t lose her head and make love with Alexandre—not when she was a terrible mix of puzzling emotions.
“How did I get here?” she asked, choosing not to respond to his question.
“I carried you,” he drawled, pushing away from the bathroom door. Sauntering across the room, he came to stand in front of her causing her to shrink back against the cold glass wall, the contact shocking her, festooning her skin with goosebumps.
His eyes fell to her breasts, heavy and pointed under the satin nightie which she had deemed as modest when she’d slipped it on. But the satin felt decadent against her heated skin as her body burgeoned under Alexandre’s heated gaze.
“You look beautiful.” The crack in his voice revealed the real state of his emotions as an unsteady hand lifted to cup one breast. Raquel gasped as her thighs trembled and moisture gushed from her core.
He flicked the beaded tip with one finger, sending a hot rush of need coursing through her, tearing a moan out of her.
Dear God, the man was a sorcerer, knowing very well how to bend her to his will. And Raquel feared she had no defenses when it came to him. Was this what he’d meant when he mentioned earlier about having a long night ahead of them? Did he plan on making love to her the entire night?
One hand slammed on the cold glass wall next to her head as he leaned down and buried his face in the crook of her neck. Nerves across her body short-circuited as he rubbed his nose against her neck and her core clenched hungrily, making her shiver against his rock-hard body.
“God, the things I want to do to you!” His guttural confession unraveled her, and Raquel found herself leaning forward to brush her body against his.
“I want to...” he whispered against her throat—things he desired to do to her, with her.
Sexy, dirty things that turned her face beet red and had her toes curling with shameless delight.
“You will love it all, I know,” he muttered, his tongue coming out to lick her skin.
Her hands clasped on his naked flesh, his towel slipping past his hips, but Alexandre was beyond caring. His hot length poked into her belly, and she mewled as she rubbed herself against his eager member.
Then, suddenly, he pulled away, leaving her feeling cold and deprived. She looked up at him, confused—her eyes still hazy with lust.
“Get dressed. We’re going out.”