as if the afternoon’s interlude had never taken place. Gabriella experienced a rush of gratitude. She let out a tiny sigh of relief and sat next to her father, taking his hand in hers and giving him a hug. It felt secure to be next to him, to know he would always protect her, whatever happened in her life.
‘So, my love,’ Gonzalo said fondly, patting her cheek, ‘did you two have a nice afternoon?’
‘Very pleasant, thank you,’ she answered demurely.
Ricardo watched her, resisting the desire to smile. She was a piece of work, he realised, amused despite his anger at her foolish behaviour. She was very young, and perhaps she had over-estimated herself—had no idea of just how patently sexy she was. He found himself feeling indulgent towards her as she cuddled next to her father, looking much younger despite her sophisticated outfit and the ponytail.
Dinner was announced and they rose. Then suddenly Gonzalo stopped, lifted his hand to his chest.
‘Daddy?’ Gabriella held him, sending Ricardo a panicked look. ‘What’s wrong, Daddy?’ she cried.
Ricardo rushed to the other man’s side, saw his face turn white. ‘We must lie him down on the couch immediately,’ he said, taking Gonzalo’s weight and laying him among the cushions.
‘Daddy, what’s wrong?’ Gabriella cried, grabbing her father’s hand.
Gonazalo’s eyes closed and his breath came fast. Then his lips opened. ‘Promise me,’ he whispered in a weak voice. ‘Give me your hand,’ he said to Ricardo.
Ricardo frowned and took the old man’s hand, felt him place it over Gabriella’s. ‘I am leaving you, little one,’ he whispered. ‘I want you both to promise that you will marry within a month.’
Gabriella’s eyes flew in panic from her father to Ricardo.
‘But you can’t go—you can’t leave me, Papa,’ she cried, panic-stricken, tears pouring down her cheeks.
It was a split-second decision. But as Ricardo looked from father to daughter, saw the anguish in the dying man’s eyes, the lost distress in the girl’s, he knew there was no choice.
‘I promise,’ he said, loud and clear.
‘My Gabinha,’ the old man whispered, his voice weaker by the moment. ‘Answer me.’
‘I—Daddy, don’t leave me,’ Gabriella wept.
‘Promise me, my darling.’
‘I…I promise,’ she whispered, her head falling.
Ricardo watched as Gonzalo let out his last breath and Gabriella, her hair splayed over his chest, wept uncontrollably. A few minutes elapsed before slowly he lifted her and held her silently in his arms, aware that he had just made the biggest commitment—and perhaps the biggest mistake—of his life.
CHAPTER THREE
‘WE CAN’T get married,’ Gabriella insisted, not for the first time. ‘It’s absurd. We were under pressure. Daddy can’t have meant it. He was just—’ She cut herself off and turned away.
It was three weeks now since Gonzalo’s funeral, and they were on Ricardo’s private plane, a G5, flying to the Principality of Maldoravia, which he’d virtually abandoned for the past month. He needed to decide what the next step was. Not an easy task, he reflected, glancing at Gabriella, who had lived through the past weeks’ events in a daze, allowing him to take charge of both her personal and business arrangements.
They had spent several days in the Presidential suite at the Copacabana Palace Hotel in Rio while Ricardo went over all Gonzalo’s personal affairs with the lawyers and trustees appointed to administer them—only to discover that he was bound to Gabriella by the terms of Gonzalo’s will. Sly old dog, he’d clearly known he’d get his way! Gabriella had sat by, barely registering what was happening, too caught up in her grief to care. He’d felt deeply sorry for her, and worried too. Her life had changed at the flick of a switch. It couldn’t be easy, he recognised. She had lost quite a bit of weight too, he noted, eyeing her in the opposite seat and wondering how to get her to eat more than a couple of forkfuls of lettuce. Still, the subject at hand had to be faced.
‘Gabriella, like it or not, we made a promise to a dying man. We must keep our word.’
‘It was emotional blackmail,’ she argued, crossing her arms tightly across her chest. ‘It’s not fair on either of us.’
‘Nevertheless, I would not be a man of honour if I did not keep my word,’ Ricardo said with a sigh. They’d had this discussion several times in the past days.
‘That’s rubbish and you know it. You could very well take care of my affairs and leave it at that.’
‘You read the will yourself,’ he said wearily. ‘You can receive nothing—no income, or any part of your inheritance—until our marriage has taken place. Why not make it easier on yourself? Or is the prospect of marrying me really such a dreadful one?’ He raised a brow and looked at her, an amused gleam flashing in his dark eyes.
‘It’s not you,’ she said looking away. ‘It’s that I don’t want to marry anyone. Not yet, anyway. I’m nineteen. I want to live. Not be tied down by a husband.’
Despite her unflattering words Ricardo sympathised with her, and wished as he had several times over the past few weeks that the dramatic circumstances of Gonzalo’s imminent death hadn’t changed his life and hers. But they had, and it was too late to retract.
‘I understand how you feel,’ he said matter-of-factly, ‘but the fact remains that we have to get married, Gabriella. I gave my word and so did you. There are also the terms of your father’s will. What happens after that is a different matter.’
‘What do you mean?’ she asked, frowning.
‘Well, what I meant was that we can find a solution for this marriage which will allow us to live together without—how can I put this…?’ He was already regretting his words. ‘Without being a burden on one another.’
‘Perhaps you could explain better,’ she said, her eyes narrowing. ‘I’m afraid I don’t quite get the picture.’
‘No. Well, never mind. I hope to make you very happy,’ he answered quickly.
‘No, you don’t.’ She shook her head vigorously and leaned forward, her eyes ablaze. ‘I know exactly what you want. I’ve seen it over and over with my father’s friends. You want to marry me, make me have a bunch of children, and then, while I sit in your wretched palace, taking care of them, you’ll be off having fun with beautiful sexy girls. Do you think I’m stupid?’ she said, hair flying as she rose and whirled to face him. ‘Do you think that I don’t know how men like you live? That my father was a saint and didn’t have a bunch of mistresses all half his age? Well, I have news for you, Your Royal Highness. I am not going to be subjected to the kind of arrangement you—and obviously my father too—seem to think right for me. I have other plans for my life, and they don’t include becoming a brood mare.’
‘I never said that,’ Ricardo replied, astounded at the onslaught. He’d expected opposition, but hardly this.
‘But you implied
