Honor-Bound Groom by Yvonne Lindsay Page A

pause. The sleepless night had left dark shadows beneath her eyes. It would take everything she had in her cosmetic arsenal to restore some semblance of the dewy bride Isla Sagrado had seen yesterday.
    It took her a further ten minutes but by the timeLoren met Alex in their communal sitting room she was satisfied that she could cope with anything the day brought.
    â€œWhere are we going?” she asked as she checked her handbag for her sunglasses.
    â€œYou’ll see when we get there,” Alex responded enigmatically.
    â€œWhat about breakfast?”
    â€œBreakfast was a couple of hours ago but there will be a morning tea where we are going. Can you wait until then?”
    Loren hazarded a look at her husband from under her lashes as she pretended to search in her bag for something else. Her husband! The solid truth of those two words rammed into her chest and clutched at her heart with a sudden twist. At her sharply indrawn breath, Alex gave her a look.
    â€œIs everything all right?” he asked.
    â€œFine, I’m fine,” Loren hastened to assure him. “And yes, I can wait for something to eat.”
    â€œThen we should be on our way.”
    He held the door to their suite open and escorted her along the wide corridor and down the sweeping stairs to the front entrance of the castillo. There, in the massive entrance hall, the staff had all assembled in a line, some bearing small gifts, others with nothing to give but the warmth in their hearts and the smiles on their faces.
    How could she have forgotten the age-old Sagradan custom? It was tradition that the staff celebrate the master’s marriage with offerings. On that occasion, the master and mistress of the property would also give the staff a small monetary gift.
    â€œHave you—” she started to ask in a whisper.
    â€œI have it under control,” Alex assured her as oneby one they greeted the people who worked tirelessly behind the scenes in the castillo.
    As she went forward to accept each small gift—some traditional in the old ways, such as the symbol of fertility that was pressed into her hand by the cook, and some modern—Alex in turn gave each staff member an envelope.
    By the time they reached his waiting Lamborghini outside, Loren’s arms were full of the tokens bestowed upon them. She made it into the car without dropping a one, and once settled she allowed them to tumble gently into her lap. Alex reached behind her seat to extricate a box and passed it to her before turning the key in the ignition and easing the car into gear and out through the castle gates.
    Loren gently placed each token into the box, her fingers lingering on the Sagradan symbol of fertility, an intricately carved egg, before placing it inside and closing the lid.
    â€œThat was lovely,” she commented, her hands firmly holding the box on her lap as they drove along the coastal road toward Puerto Seguro.
    â€œYou think so?” Alex asked, raising one dark brow. “I wouldn’t have thought you’d have cared.”
    â€œOf course I care. Why would you think I wouldn’t?” Surprise brought a defensive tone to her voice.
    Alex merely shrugged and Loren felt herself bristle at his nonchalance.
    â€œDon’t judge me by your other women,” she said quietly, but with a strong hint of steel.
    â€œDon’t worry, I wouldn’t dream of it,” Alex replied. “You are nothing like them.”
    Unable to come up with a suitable response, Loren lapsed into silence. She watched the road ahead of themthrough burning eyes and wished things could have been different. Of course she was nothing like his other women. If the tabloids had carried even an ounce of truth, those women had been confident, sophisticated and unerringly beautiful. Women like Giselle, for example.
    For what felt like the umpteenth time, Loren castigated herself for having hoped for anything else from Alex other than what