LITMIR.BIZ

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started to laugh and Raúl found himself laughing a little too.

      He lowered his head and kissed her lightly.

      It was expected, of course. What groom would not kiss his bride?

      Many times since he had put his proposition to her Estelle had had doubts—the morality of it, the feasibility of it, the logistics—but as he kissed her, as she felt his warm lips and the soft caress of his hand near the base of her spine, true doubt as to her ability to go through with the deal surfaced. For once it had nothing to do with her hymen. She was suddenly more worried about her heart.

      It was the music. It was the moment. It was having her brother here. It was Raúl’s kiss. All these things, she told herself, were the reasons she felt as she did—as if this were real…as if this were love.

      Estelle excused herself a little while later and went to the bathroom, just so she might collect herself, but brides could not easily hide on their wedding day.

      ‘Estelle?’ She turned at the sound of a woman’s voice. ‘I am Angela—Raúl’s father’s PA.’

      ‘Raúl has spoken about you,’ Estelle responded carefully.

      ‘I’m sure what he had to say was not very flattering.’ There were tears in the older woman’s eyes. ‘Estelle, I don’t know what to believe…’

      ‘Excuse me?’

      ‘About this sudden marriage.’ Angela was being as up-front with Estelle as she was with Raúl. ‘I do know, though, that Raúl seems the happiest I have seen him. If you do love your husband…’

      ‘If?’

      ‘I apologise,’ Angela said. ‘Given that you surely love your husband, I ask this not for me, and not even for Antonio’s sake. Whatever Raúl thinks of me, I care for him. I want him to come and visit us. I want us to be a family, even for a little while.’

      ‘You could have had that years ago.’ Estelle answered as she hoped Raúl would expect his loyal wife to.

      ‘I want him to make peace with his father while there is still time. I don’t want him to have any guilt when his father passes. I know how much guilt he has over his mother.’

      Estelle blinked, unsure how to respond because there was so much she didn’t know about Raúl. What did he have to feel guilty about? Raúl had been a child, after all. He had agreed to tell her more on their honeymoon—had said that he would be the one to deal with any questions tonight.

      ‘I have always loved Raúl. I have always thought of him as a son.’

      ‘So why did you leave it so late to tell him?’ Perhaps it was the emotion of the day, but the tears that flashed in Estelle’s eyes were real. ‘If you cared so much for him—’

      Estelle halted. It wasn’t her place to ask, and Raúl certainly wouldn’t thank her for delving. She was here to ensure his father left his share of the business to him, that was all. She would do well to remember that.

      ‘I do care,’ Angela responded. ‘Whatever Raúl thinks of me, from a distance I have loved him as a son.’

      ‘From a distance?’ Estelle repeated, making the bitter point.

      Turning on her heel, she walked out and straight into Raúl’s arms.

      ‘She wanted to speak about you,’ Estelle told him. ‘I don’t know how well I handled it.’

      ‘We’ll discuss it later,’ Raúl said, for he had seen Angela follow her in. ‘Now we have to hand out the favours.’

      It really was an amazing party, and for reasons of her own Estelle didn’t particularly want it to end.

      As per tradition, the bride and groom had to see off all their guests and be the last to leave. Antonio tired first, and she felt the grip of Raúl’s hand tighten on hers as his father left with his loyal PA.

      ‘It’s been great,’ Andrew said as he prepared to head back to the hotel he was staying in. ‘Once Cecelia is well, and I’m working, I’m going to bring Amanda and Cecelia here for a holiday, to visit you.’

      ‘You do that,’ Estelle said, and bent down and gave her brother a cuddle, then stood as Raúl shook his hand.

      ‘Look after my sister.’

      ‘You do not have to worry about that.’

      ‘Have a great honeymoon.’

      A driver sorted out the wheelchair and they waved Andrew off and then headed back inside.

      Apart from the staff it was just Raúl and Estelle now, and still the music went on as they danced their last dance of the night.

      ‘It really helped having Andrew here.’ Her hands were round the back of his neck, he held her hips, and she would give anything not to disappoint him tonight—anything to be the experienced lover he assumed she was.

      ‘I thought it might.’

      ‘It didn’t just help me,’ Estelle admitted, and started to tell him about how Andrew’s confidence had been lacking.

      But he dropped a kiss on her shoulder. ‘Enough about others.’

      Estelle swallowed. She could feel his fingers exploring the halter neck, his other hand running down the row of tiny buttons that ran to the base of her spine, and she knew he was planning his movements, undressing her slowly in his mind as they danced.

      ‘Raúl…’ His mouth was working over her bare shoulder, kissing it deeply; she could feel the soft suction, feel the heat of his tongue and his ardour building. ‘I’ve never slept with anyone before.’

      He moaned into her shoulder and pulled her tighter into him, so she could feel every inch of the turn-on he thought she was giving him.

      ‘I mean it.’ Her voice was shaking. ‘You’ll be my first.’

      ‘Come on, then.’ His mouth was now at her ear. ‘Let’s go and play virgins.’

       CHAPTER TEN

      THEY WERE DRIVEN the short distance to the marina, but for Estelle it just passed in a blur.

      It was almost morning, yet despite the hour the celebrations continued.

      Alberto, the skipper, welcomed them, and briefly introduced the staff—but Estelle barely took in the names, let alone her surroundings. All she could think of was what was soon to come as the crew toasted them and then Raúl dismissed them.

      ‘Tomorrow I will show you around properly,’ Raúl said, taking her champagne glass. ‘But for now…’

      There was no escaping. He pulled her towards him, his tongue back on her neck, at the crease between her neck and shoulder. He had been mentally undressing her before, for now his hands moved straight to the halter neck and expertly unravelled the carefully tied bow.

      He had been expecting a basque, had anticipated another contraption to disable, but the dress had an inbuilt bra and he gave a low growl of approval as one of the breasts that had filled his private visions in recent days fell heavy and ripe into his palm.

      ‘Raúl, someone might come…’

      ‘That would be you,’ he said, but she did not relax. ‘No one will disturb us.’

      Raúl lowered his head and licked around the pale areola, flicked a nipple that had been crushed all day by fabric back into rapid life, surprised that she was concerned that someone might come in. The staff on his yacht had seen many a decadent party—a husband and wife on their wedding night paled in comparison with what usually took place. He took the breast he craved in his mouth again, felt her hand try to push him back. He was at first surprised by her reticence—but then he remembered their game.

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