sensual, perhaps—and worked well against the dark wooden furnishings. The space was vast and the ceilings high, yet there was an intimate feel from the moment you walked in, alongside the lovely buzz of a busy hotel.
As a centrepiece, there was a huge, crimson floral display.
Yes, almost perfect.
Gabi had an eye for detail and this arrangement irked her. It never varied, or moved with the times. Instead, there was a perpetual display of deep red roses and carnations and it had become a slight bone of contention when Gabi had negotiated on behalf of her brides.
Marianna came to greet them and took the trio for coffee at one of several intimate lounges just off the foyer.
There they went through a few details and though Marianna was delighted to announce that there was an opening in just over two weeks, she was not going to make it easy for the bride.
‘I do need to verify dates with the owner,’ Marianna said. ‘We’re expecting some VIP guests at the hotel in January so security will be particularly tight. I’m not sure we’ll be able to accommodate you then. Alim has asked to be informed before any dates are locked in...’ She paused and looked up. ‘Oh, there he—’
Marianna halted, causing Gabi to glance up. Alim had just entered the foyer with the requisite stunning blonde.
Gabi guessed, and rightly so, that Alim did not like to be disturbed with minor details every time he made an appearance so Marianna did not alert Mona and Fleur to his presence.
Yet such was his charisma, both women looked over.
And while Marianna might be doing her best not to disrupt Alim’s day, Gabi’s had just been turned on its head.
In the nicest of ways.
He wore a slim dark coat and there was such an air of magnificence about him that he simply turned heads.
Not just for his dark looks—there was more to him than that—but they were rather wonderful to dwell on. His hair was black and glossy and swept back. He stood tall and his posture was so upright he always made Gabi want to pull back her own shoulders.
There was a shift that ran through her body whenever he was near, an awareness that made it difficult to focus on anything other than him, for all else seemed to move to the periphery of her consciousness to allow Alim centre stage.
‘Quanti ospiti?’
Marianna’s voice was coming from a distance and as she asked how many guests for the wedding, it was Mona who answered instead of Gabi.
For Alim had looked over and met her gaze.
He was beautiful.
Always.
Effortlessly elegant, supremely polite, he was the calm, still water to Gabi’s fizz.
She was a dreamer, which meant that though he was out of her league, he was not out of bounds to her thoughts; innocent in body she may be, but not so in her mind.
And as for those eyes, they were a dark grey with silver flecks that spoke silently of the night.
His gaze was a dangerous thing to be held in, Gabi knew, and she was trapped in it now. There was a fire crackling in the grate and there was heat low, low in her stomach and rising to her neck.
She wanted to excuse herself from the conversation and walk over in response to his silent command. She wanted work to be gone, for his lover to disappear, and for Alim to lower her down onto a silken bed.
Just that.
‘Gabi...’ Marianna intruded.
‘Alim,’ his lover called.
But he was making his way over.
‘Va tuto bene?’
He asked if everything was okay, and though his Italian was excellent, it was laced in his own rich accent and rendered Gabi incapable of response, for she had not expected him to come over.
It was Marianna who responded and told him the preferred date for the wedding.
‘That would be fine.’ Alim nodded to Marianna and to the other guests and then he looked directly at Gabi; she found herself staring at his mouth as he spoke, for it was just a little safer than to stare into his eyes. ‘How are you, Gabi?’
‘I am well.’
‘That is good.’
He turned and walked away and she held her breath.
It was nothing—just an exchange so tiny that the others had not even noticed its significance, yet Gabi would survive on it for weeks.
He knew her name.
‘Perhaps you could take Mona to see the ballroom while I discuss details with Fleur,’ Marianna suggested.
Details being money.
‘Of course.’
Gabi stood and smoothed her skirt.
Oh, she loathed the black suit with a gold logo and the heavy, cowl-necked cream top. It was the perfect outfit for a funeral director, not a wedding planner.
If it were her own business she would wear a willow-green check with a hint of pink. Gabi had already chosen the fabric.
And she would not wear the black high heels that Bernadetta insisted on, for she felt too tall and bulky as she walked through the foyer alongside the future bride.
And then she saw Alim and Ms Blonde stepping into his private elevator, and Gabi scowled at his departing back, for she envied the intimate experience they were about to share. Ms Blonde was coiling herself around him and whispering into his ear.
Thank God for gated elevators.
They were excellent for regaining self-control, for they slammed shut on the couple and as the world came back from the peripheries Gabi recalled that there was a wedding to be arranged.
There were large double doors to the ballroom and Gabi opened them both so that Mona could get the full effect as she stepped in.
It truly was stunning.
Huge crystal chandeliers first drew the eye, but it was a feast in all directions.
‘Molto bello...’ Mona breathed, and it was a relief to slip back into speaking Italian. ‘The ballroom is nothing like I remember it.’
‘Alim, the owner, had it completely refurbished. The floor was sanded back, the chandeliers repaired. The Grande Lucia is once again the place for a wedding.’
‘I know it is,’ Mona admitted. ‘It is actually where James and I met. I was here for my grandparents’ anniversary. James was here, visiting...’ Mona stopped herself from voicing whatever it was she had been about to say. ‘I just don’t like it that Fleur is calling all the shots just because her...’ Mona clapped her lips together.
