head. ‘This isn’t about looking the part, or playing a part. You are a princess, Gabi, and you will be Casavalle’s Queen.’
‘That’s what Cesar said.’ Gabi regretted the words as she saw Luca study her expression.
‘Sounds like you got to know each other fast.’
‘Yes.’ Gabi pushed away the urge to confide; the relationship between the Valentis and the Asturiases was complicated enough. She didn’t need Luca to get involved or fire up on his sister’s behalf.
‘Well, he’s right, Gabi. You can do this. You’ve got this.’
‘Thank you. To you and Imogen. For having my back.’
‘That’s what family is for, Gabi. And now you have a family. To support you.’ Luca smiled at her. ‘So let’s show some Valenti-Ross solidarity and build on what you have started with Prince Cesar. I have spoken with his older brothers and his younger sister already. Now let’s go get some more publicity.’
Gabi nodded, understood the importance of this public meeting of the families. Luca had told her that a few months earlier he and Cesar had gone to see Meribel, and they had all made their peace. But that had been a private meeting; this was a public showing of togetherness, an assertion that neither family bore a grudge, that both families were friends.
He looked round. ‘But let’s bring Imogen into the mix too.’ He smiled as his fiancée headed towards him, clearly alerted by some mysterious couple radar, and for a mad moment envy tinged with wistfulness touched Gabi. She was happy for her best friend, for her brother, but she couldn’t help but wonder if she could ever find what they had. Could she ever find love, trust that someone would love her for herself?
‘Let’s do this,’ Luca said. With smiles and murmurs to other guests they made their way through the glittering, designer-clad throngs together and now Gabi felt lighter, revelled in the feel of being part of a family unit. Reminded herself that she did have support and backup and she was thankful for it.
They approached Cesar, who was speaking with Queen Maria, and Gabi gulped. Standing beneath one of the magnificent chandeliers, dressed in a tux that moulded his body, showed off those powerful shoulders and that lean, mean, fighting-machine body, he took her breath away. Again.
As if he sensed it, his dark brown eyes flicked to meet hers and she saw an answering flare there and her insides knotted in sudden desire. And she’d asked him to ask permission to kiss her. Madness—Cesar was not a man to flirt with; she might as well flirt with fire, dance and weave through the flames.
‘Cesar. Good to see you.’ Luca’s deep tone was pitched to carry without shouting and Gabi was aware that around them conversations slowed as the two men shook hands. ‘Much has changed since we last met,’ he continued, with a disarming smile. ‘I wish to assure you and your family that I for one have no complaint at all as to how things have played out. I am a very happy man. I have gained a sister and a fiancée I love. Gabriella you have met, but now allow me to introduce Imogen, my fiancée.’
‘It is a pleasure to meet you, Imogen.’ Now Cesar grasped Imogen’s hand, seemingly oblivious to the buzz around them. ‘May I offer my sincere congratulations and wish you both happiness from myself and my family.’
‘Thank you.’ Imogen’s voice was clear. ‘I appreciate that very much. And please tell Meribel we wish her as much happiness as we have found.’
‘I will do that.’ Cesar’s smile was courteous; he was clearly appreciative of Imogen’s diplomatic answer. ‘And may I say you will make a wonderful diplomat if ever the urge takes you.’
At that moment the band struck up and Cesar’s smile changed, as if he’d upped the brightness meter, and he turned to Gabi. ‘My dance, I believe.’
She would swear she could feel the colour leech from her face; she, Gabriella Ross, was about to lead a royal ball, a ball in her honour. Crazy didn’t cover it.
‘You’ll wow them, Gabi,’ Imogen said. ‘And we’ll be right behind you.’
‘You’d better be.’ Gabi turned to Cesar, oddly reassured—he would know what he was doing so with any luck she wouldn’t make a complete fool of herself.
‘There is no need to be nervous,’ Cesar said softly as he took her hand and they approached the dance floor, where the orchestra had started the introduction, the melody touching and humming the air with motes of beauty.
‘There is every need to be nervous. I told you last night, this is not my forte.’
‘And I told you last night that you can do this. Plus what I didn’t tell you last night is that I have all the moves!’ As she glanced up at him, he did a disco move reminiscent of the seventies, the move so unexpected that she halted and looked up at him in surprise.
His face creased into a grin and he chuckled and she grinned right back. Suddenly the whole idea of the dance seemed less of an ordeal and as the orchestra began to play, she inhaled deeply. ‘OK. I can do this.’
‘We can do this,’ he said and then they were off.
Gabi focused on his left shoulder, murmured the instructions under her breath, tried to focus on the movements, but it was hard when Cesar was this close. So close his aftershave tantalised her, so close she now knew the muscles were real, hard under her fingers; she could see one errant black curl on the nape of his neck and she bit back a small moan. The feel of his arm around her waist was ridiculously intimate as he guided her with a deft gentleness that made her shiver. And all she wanted was to be even closer; somehow it felt as though the rest of the room, the guests, the noise, had all faded away to leave only them...no one else.
Until the music came to its haunting close and she blinked as if emerging from a dream, became aware of all the other couples on the floor around them, suddenly conscious of the attention they had attracted. Oh, hell! She hadn’t done anything stupid, had she? Drooled all over that beautiful tux, ripped open the jacket...
With as much dignity as she could muster, she managed a smile that she hoped looked cool but friendly. ‘Thank you. Your moves helped a lot.’
This pulled a return smile, but his was way more than friendly and his gaze felt like a caress.
‘Let me get you a drink,’ he suggested. ‘Before you take up your duties. There are many people who you must dance with tonight. But if we don’t get a chance to speak properly again, I hope to see you tomorrow evening. We have much to discuss.’
They did? Gabi watched the breadth of his retreating back, turned to smile dutifully at the elderly gentleman, an English lord, who now approached her. But as she spoke with him her mind and her body dwelled on Cesar and anticipation twisted her tummy at the thought of their next meeting.
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