the trembling hand in his own, wanting to impart both warmth and strength, wanting to give her back the confidence that had been taken from her.
“Don’t take any notice of Michelle,” he advised, not caring if he sounded disloyal. “Sing to your son, Marco, imagining you are at his wedding.”
Colour whooshed into her cheeks. Had he embarrassed her? Her thick dark lashes lifted and her eyes—he’d thought they were a light brown but close up they were a fascinating golden amber—seemed to swim up at him, bathing him in a mixture of relief, gratitude, and a very touching wonder at his caring.
He had the instant urge to draw her into his arms—to comfort and protect—and only a swift charge of common sense deflected him from such unwarranted and totally out-of-place action. The strength of the instinct both stunned and bemused him. He barely knew this woman.
“Thank you. You’re very kind,” she murmured huskily.
She had a wide, generous mouth. All the better to sing with, he told himself, clamping down on disturbingly wayward thoughts of sensuality and passion. He was suddenly very conscious of her hand, lying still in his now, and gave it a quick reassuring squeeze.
“You’ll be fine. Just remember my grandmother would not have called you for an audition if she had not been very impressed with your voice.”
She nodded and he released her hand, swinging away to insert the tape into the sound system at the side of the stage. It was unsettling to find himself so aware of her as a woman. It was fine to give her consideration as a person, but the stirring of any sexual interest was out of kilter with his commitment to Michelle. Despite his disaffection with his fiancée’s current attitude, this shouldn’t be happening.
Having switched everything on, he took the remote control panel to Gina, demonstrated the buttons she would need to press, adjusted the microphone for her, keeping his focus on making sure she knew how to work her performance. Even so, every time he glanced at her, those expressive amber eyes tugged at him, making him feel more connected to her than he wanted to be.
He flashed her a last encouraging smile as he left her on centre stage. The need to put distance between them had him heading back down the ballroom to Michelle. Yet he changed his mind halfway, choosing to sit with his grandmother and Gina’s son, rather than placing himself at the side of negative disinterest. It was an action that might just jolt Michelle into reassessing her manner.
The show of support for her protégé earned an approving nod from his grandmother. Feeling slightly guilty, Alex beckoned Michelle to join them, but she waved a curt little dismissal and struck a languid pose on her chair, transmitting a boredom that was not about to be shifted. Alex gritted his teeth. Be damned if he was going to shift, either!
“We are ready if you are,” his grandmother announced.
Alex concentrated objective attention on the woman who now commanded the stage. She was younger than Michelle, probably mid-twenties. The rather modest lemon shift she wore skimmed a very curvaceous figure. Her overall appearance was pleasingly feminine, though not spectacular. She would never draw all eyes as Michelle did on entering a room, yet Alex couldn’t help thinking a man would feel very comfortable having Gina Terlizzi on his arm.
The music started. Alex noted her gaze was not trained on his grandmother, but on her son who was seated on the chair next to the dance floor. He smiled to himself realising she was taking his advice, getting keyed up to direct her song to the little boy whose uncritical love would undoubtedly be beamed back at his mother.
Her voice poured through the microphone, a surprisingly rich, full-bodied voice that filled the ballroom with glorious sound, nothing wispy or weak either in tone or pitch. He recognised the song as a Celine Dion favourite, “Because You Loved Me,” and Gina Terlizzi gave it every bit as much emotional expression—if not more—than the original artist.
A touch on his arm directed his attention to the boy who’d been seated next to his grandmother. He’d slid off his chair and moved onto the dance floor, his feet rocking to the beat of the song, shoulders swaying, arms waving in rhythm, his face raptly lifted to his mother who smiled at him in the pauses of the song. He was copying her gestures, her swaying, the two of them joined in harmony with each other.
When the song ended, he clapped delightedly and called out, “More, Mama!”
Alex couldn’t help sharing a smile with his grandmother who was clearly affected by the little scene, her face softened with the pleasure that old people invariably found in the artless joy of little children.
“Yes, we must hear more,” she called out supportively.
Gina nodded, took a deep breath and started the tape again.
It was certainly no hardship listening to her. As she sang what Alex considered a great rendition of Frank Sinatra’s old song, “All The Way,” he looked back at Michelle, expecting her to be enjoying it as much as he was. She returned a petulant glare that really riled him. Couldn’t she concede Gina Terlizzi was worth listening to?
He looked at the little boy, happily jigging along with the song, and when he clapped at the end of it, Alex couldn’t resist joining in the applause. Why not? It was deserved. And he felt a need to make up for Michelle’s stubborn stand-off.
“Another one, please,” his grandmother requested.
Alex knew most of the popular wedding songs from hearing his grandmother playing them over and over to sort out her recommendations to the couples who booked their weddings here. She’d started the business years ago, determined on maintaining the castle with the profits made—a totally unnecessary decision since the King investments could easily carry any cost to keeping this prime property as it should be kept.
Alex suspected she simply enjoyed planning big occasions and seeing the ballroom put to good use. It also gave her a convenient lead-in to asking her three grandsons when she could expect a wedding from them. She had one now and as Alex listened to Gina Terlizzi sing “From This Moment On,” he silently vowed to ensure that his grandmother would have some voice in the planning of it. Michelle could like it or lump it.
Respect was called for.
Respect would be given.
From this moment on…
CHAPTER FOUR
THEY were sitting at the table by the fountain again. A sumptuous afternoon tea had been served. Marco was happily running around the lawn, exploring various parts of the gardens. It would have been the perfect wind-down from her audition, but for the somewhat sour presence of Michelle Banks.
Even so, Gina’s inner excitement could not be dampened. Isabella Valeri King had more than approved her singing. She had complimented her on it with open pleasure. So had Alex King. And best of all, she now had Isabella’s assurance of a high recommendation for bookings. In future, she would be singing at the castle many times, for a much bigger fee than she had ever been offered before.
It didn’t matter that Michelle Banks had more or less removed herself from making even a friendly comment. Perhaps she had wanted Alex to herself this afternoon and resented his being dragged into helping with Isabella’s business. Although Alex hadn’t seemed to mind the claim on his time.
He’d been so kind and helpful. If he wasn’t taken, Gina had the funny feeling she’d be head over heels in love with him. When he’d
