barefoot over the polished floor, fighting to keep her voice level and her expressive face still because her mouth had run dry and her heart was pounding. Clothed in a light grey suit that exuded the exclusive expense of personal tailoring, Max, from the smooth olive planes of his exquisite bone structure to the deep-set drama of his black-fringed golden eyes, was simply breathtaking.
‘One of those women’s grooming places,’ Max proffered. ‘I had my PA organise it for you yesterday because I thought you would enjoy the experience. They’ll do your nails and stuff like that.’
Tia nodded, a jolt of happy anticipation bringing a sudden smile to her tense mouth. At the party the night before in the company of much better groomed women she had been mortifyingly conscious of her unstyled hair, the ugly callouses on her hands and her short nails. Although she had been raised to believe that vanity was a sin, when she had still been at school with Maddie she had experimented with make-up just like every other girl there. Once Maddie had moved on with her life beyond school, however, Tia had had nobody to share those little vanities with.
‘I will enjoy it. Have you been out?’
‘I went for the hospital scan first thing,’ Max admitted, surprising her. ‘I have concussion, which will heal on its own. I feel fine.’
Tia wanted to slap him for not waking her and allowing her to accompany him. Concussion and he just shook the injury off as though it were nothing? Wasn’t that taking macho male denial of weakness too far?
‘I’m relieved that you got checked out but surprised because you seemed so against it last night.’
‘I don’t like hospitals but I’m not stupid. I’ve had concussion before and it was more serious on that occasion.’ Max shrugged a dismissive shoulder while watching her pull various garments to consider from the wardrobe. ‘Wear the blue dress. It’ll highlight your eyes,’ he advised, striding back into the other room.
Clad in the blue dress, Tia slid her feet into light sandals. She rubbed her pale cheeks to lend her wan reflection a little colour. She looked tired, not her best and she marvelled at Max’s undeniable energy after his accident the night before. He’d had concussion before? Had he got into a fight with someone or been involved in a car accident? Frustratingly there was so much she didn’t know about Max Leonelli and she wanted to know more.
An astonishing array of dishes greeted her in the room next door. Teddy had been released from his kennel for an hour and he was standing guard below the table, growling every time Max moved, but when he saw Tia he raced to greet her in a tail-wagging, doggy-licking surge of happiness.
Wryly watching the delighted reunion taking place a few feet from him, Max waved an eloquent hand over the food. ‘I didn’t know what you liked so I ordered a selection.’
‘But this is so wasteful,’ Tia whispered instinctively. ‘I won’t eat half of this.’
‘This is your life now,’ Max countered with level assurance. ‘You have the luxury of choices. You don’t have to make do any more.’
With a guilty sigh, Tia lifted a plate and served herself. ‘It’ll take a lot of getting used to.’
‘It does,’ he agreed. ‘It was like that for me when I first arrived in England. But you’ll soon adapt. We’re getting married in forty-eight hours.’
Tia almost dropped the plate, cornflower-blue eyes huge. ‘How is that even possible?’
‘You can thank your Mother Sancha for organising it for us. Fortunately you hold dual citizenship, which simplifies matters, but the Reverend Mother certainly knows how to get things done quickly and sidestep any awkward rules,’ Max declared with visible appreciation. ‘Father Francisco will conduct the ceremony in the convent chapel and the ceremony will be screened live on social media for Andrew’s benefit.’
Tia stared back at him wide-eyed, the pão de queijo baked cheese roll in her hand forgotten. ‘My goodness, how have you arranged all that this early in the day?’
‘It’s almost noon. My work days usually kick off at dawn,’ Max told her gently.
I’m getting married, Tia thought dizzily. Married to Max. But only because she might be pregnant, she reminded herself darkly and her face heated as that visceral surge low in her belly made her mortifyingly aware of the dulled ache that still lingered between her legs. Nothing to be proud of there, she reflected tightly, bitterly aware that she had grabbed at her first chance of freedom without properly weighing up the advantages and the disadvantages. And yet when she looked at Max across the table, her mind was blank of disadvantages and she was more conscious of the swollen sensitivity of her nipples and the audible hitch in her breathing. She seemed to be as susceptible to Max as Teddy was to all forms of food.
Tia thoroughly enjoyed her trip to the beauty salon. She had never had her hair professionally trimmed or styled before and could barely credit that her very thick hair could be subdued into a flourishing silky mass that tumbled quite naturally round her face. Her hands were softened and her nails transformed into pearly pink elegance. Every inch of her was moisturised and polished and shaped and after a light lunch she sat entranced while she was expertly made up, watching every move the cosmetic artist made because she wanted to be able to copy the look for herself. For the very first time ever she revelled in being a woman.
Max went rigid the minute he saw her walk out to the limousine. Without the smallest enhancement, Tia was naturally beautiful, but fresh from a professional salon she became eye-catching enough to stop the traffic. Rich swathes of honey-blonde hair bounced round her narrow shoulders, framing that wide cheekboned, heart-shaped face to perfection.
‘You look incredible, bella mia,’ he murmured, dark deep-set eyes raking over her flushed face. ‘I had planned to take you on the tourist trail this afternoon but I’m afraid you have a more pressing need to pick your wedding dress. A selection is being brought to the hotel.’
Tia blinked. ‘I was wondering what I’d wear.’
‘All the trappings. Your grandfather will expect it.’
But nothing was happening as Tia had once expected it and events were moving far too fast for her to handle with calm. Inside herself she was a massive heap of nerves and insecurities and doubts. She was marrying the first man she had ever slept with, marrying practically the first attractive man she had ever met, to move to a new country and meet a wealthy grandfather, who was a stranger but to whom she owed her opportunity to make a new life. But it wouldn’t be the new life of freedom that she had once naively envisaged; it would be a different life built round a husband and even—potentially—a child. How could she possibly be a good or effective mother when she barely knew how to survive in the modern world?
SISTER MARIANA CRIED when she saw Tia in her wedding dress, insisting, however, that her tears were happy tears. The older woman had explained that now that Tia was getting married the nuns believed they could feel secure about Tia’s future and stop worrying about her welfare. Max, it seemed, now occupied a starring role as Tia’s protector in the dangerous new life she was embarking on.
Tia was misty-eyed too as she absorbed her reflection in the glorious confection of lace and tulle that shaped her figure and fell to her feet. She was willing to admit that it was a gorgeous dress even if it was far from being her dream dress. The demands of a convent wedding had made
