service ended and an attendant removed the satin rope and presented it to Estelle; then they walked out to cheers and petals and rice being thrown at them. Raúl’s hand was hot on her waist, and he gripped her tighter when she nearly shot out of her dress at the sound of an explosion.
‘It’s firecrackers,’ Raúl said. ‘Sorry I forgot to warn you.’
And there would be firecrackers later too, Estelle thought, when they got to bed and she told him the truth! But it was far too late now to warn him.
* * *
It really was a wonderful wedding.
As Raúl had told her on the night they had met, there were no speeches; instead it was an endless feast, with dancing and celebration and congratulations from all.
She met Paola and Carlos, Raúl’s aunt and uncle, and they spoke of Raúl’s mother, Gabriella.
‘She would be so proud to be here today,’ Paola said. ‘Wouldn’t she, Antonio?’
Estelle saw how friendly they were with Raúl’s father, and also with Angela, who was naturally seated with them. No longer were they names, but faces, and a shiver went down her arms as she imagined their reaction when the truth came out.
‘My son has excellent taste.’ Antonio kissed her on the cheek.
Estelle had met him very briefly the day before, and Raúl had handled most of the questions—though both had seen the doubt in his eyes as to whether this union was real.
It was slowly fading.
‘It is good to see my son looking so happy.’
He did look happy.
Raúl smiled at her as they danced their first dance as husband and wife, with the room watching on.
‘Remember our first dance?’ Raúl smiled.
‘Well, we shan’t be repeating that tonight.’
‘Not till later.’ Raúl gazed down, saw her burning cheeks, and mistook it for arousal.
He could never have guessed her fear.
‘I ache to be inside you.’
Other couples had joined them. The music was low and sensual and it seemed to beat low in her stomach. His hand dusted her bare arm and she shivered at the thought of what was to come, wondered if those eyes, soft now with lust and affection, would darken in anger.
‘Raúl…’ Surely here was not the place to tell him, but it felt better with people around them rather than being alone. ‘I’m nervous about tonight.’
‘Why would you be nervous?’ he asked. ‘I will take good care of you.’
He would, Raúl decided. He was rarely excited at the thought of monogamy but he actually wanted to take care of her, could not stand to think of what she might have put her body through. There was a surge of protectiveness that shot through him then, and his arms tightened around her. He could feel her tension and nervousness and again he wanted to make her smile.
‘Can I ask why,’ he whispered into her ear as they danced, ‘you embroidered a pineapple on my shirt?’
‘It’s a thistle!’
A smile spread on her lips and he felt her relax a little in his arms.
‘For Scotland.’
Raúl found himself smiling too. ‘All day I have been trying to work out the significance of a pineapple.’
She 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
