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Even if it is, at its core, a sham to protect me and nothing else—why not be happy for today?
The front door to the villa is open when we arrive, cars parked at the edge of the landscaped path that leads up to it. Gabriel leads me through the house to the back, where I gasp as he opens the door, seeing what’s in front of me.
The deck behind the house is strewn with flowers—twined along the railing surrounding it, in arrangements on the long table, spilling over onto the runner stretched across it. There’s a buffet of food laid out for us, white wine and champagne chilling in ice buckets, and red wine, rose, and bottles of liquor and mixers set on a table on the far side. A dance floor has been set up on the lawn, covered with a tent frame that has fairy lights strung all along it. I can hear music playing, and I turn to look at Gabriel, my eyes suddenly burning.
“It’s not an opulent reception,” he says quietly. “If this were all different, you could have had anything money could buy. This was what I could manage in a short amount of time, and since it’s only a few?—”
He breaks off as I wrap my arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. I have the urge to kiss him, right there in front of everyone, but I hold back, unsure of what his reaction might be. Other than our kiss in the church today, I’ve never kissed him in front of the children, and this—it’s not a real marriage. I have to remind myself of that, over and over, because it feels real.
The reception passes by in a blur. Agnes and Aldo are full of congratulations, and some of the estate staff—most of whom I’ve never met, come by to say congratulations as well, and have a drink. Cecilia and Danny want to know when the cake will be served, and Clara pulls me aside to hug me and whisper that she can’t believe Gabriel did this.
“There’s only a few people here,” she says softly. “He didn’t have to throw a party for this, and?—”
“He didn’t want me to be disappointed.” I bite my lip, looking over at where Gabriel is talking to Aldo, a grin on his face as he pours himself a glass of cognac.
Clara rolls her eyes so hard that I think they might disappear into the back of her head for a moment. “Are you serious, Bella? He did all of this because he doesn’t want to disappoint you?”
“Why else?” I ask softly, taking a nervous sip of my champagne. I don’t know how much longer Gabriel wants to stay down here for, and every time I think of what comes after, my stomach dips and swirls with nervous anticipation, mixed with trepidation. It’s not as if tonight is going to be my first time, but I feel as anxious as if it were.
If I’m only getting one more night, I’m going to make sure you never forget it. That echoes in my head—what he said in the car on the way here—every time I think about going upstairs with him in a little while.
“Bel.” Clara shakes her head, looking at me as if I should understand. “I know you don’t have a lot of experience with men, but most nice men I know wouldn’t think to do all of—this.” She looks around the room. “You mean a lot more to him than you think you do.”
My stomach swirls nervously again. “I don’t know,” I whisper, and Clara snorts.
“I do. But I guess it’s just going to take time to figure it out.” She nods towards where Gabriel is standing. “I think he’s looking for you.”
Gabriel is looking in my direction. His mouth curls up in a smile, and he tilts his head, as if he’s asking me to walk over to him. I glance at Clara, who mouths for me to go, and even though I feel guilty just leaving her on her own when she doesn’t know anyone other than me very well, I cross the deck to where Gabriel is standing.
“Ready for a first dance?” he asks, holding out a hand. “Right after the cake, because I think the kids are going to riot if they don’t get that soon.”
“They’re never going to sleep.” I laugh, and he shakes his head.
“That’s Agnes’ problem tonight.” His hand touches mine, fingers brushing against the back of my hand. The promise in just that small touch makes me shiver. The intimacy of the conversation does, too—the easy way we talk about Cecelia and Danny together. I’m technically their stepmother now, I suppose, and the thought makes my chest tighten all over again. This conversation makes me feel like that’s true.
The cake is strawberry, with a whipped cream frosting and fresh berries on the top. Gabriel cuts a slice, breaking off a small piece, and gently putting it to my lips. When I take the bite, his finger brushes over my lower lip, and I feel a shiver all the way down my spine.
When I do the same to him, I feel his tongue brush against my fingertip, and my knees feel a little weak.
“Let’s dance?” His hand wraps around mine, and when I nod, he leads me to the dance floor. Agnes and Aldo are swaying at one side, and I see that Clara is dancing with one of the younger members of the estate staff, a dark-haired Italian man who looks only a year or two older than her, his gaze resting on her face with the promise of an interesting night ahead for both of them.
I smother a grin. Good for her, I can’t help but think. Clara deserves a little vacation fling, especially after flying all the way out here for a quick, arranged wedding between Gabriel and me.
Gabriel sees the expression on my face, one eyebrow rising, and I nod towards Clara. He smirks, his hand on my lower back pulling me a little closer.
“I think it might be time for us to go upstairs, soon.”
My heart stutters in my chest. I could tell him no. I’m not a virgin—there’s no blood on the sheets to wave as proof, nothing but his word and mine as to whether or not the marriage is consummated tonight. Igor won’t care one way or another—he’ll cut down whoever he has to in order to get to me, no matter what. And as for whatever allies Gabriel can leverage with the new title of wife that he’s given me—they’ll just have to trust that word.
I know Gabriel would never make me go to bed with him if I told him no. But I don’t want to make him a liar—and I can’t deny that as nervous as I am, I want tonight, too.
We can’t keep doing this. But I want one more night.
When the dance is finished, Agnes collects Cecelia and Danny, bringing them over to say goodnight. “You looked so pretty today, Bella,” Cecelia whispers, squeezing me in a hug before she and Danny both hug Gabriel, and then follow Agnes upstairs. Gabriel tosses the last of his cognac back, as they disappear inside, and gives me a look.
Nerves flutter through me. “One more dance,” I tell him, and Gabriel’s fingers run down my spine as we move back onto the dance floor.
“One more,” he murmurs, the music picking up a little, and my heartbeat does, too. I can feel his eyes on me, feel the tension in his body, the anticipation. By the time the song ends, my own pulse is fluttering in my throat, my hands shaky.
