Treasured by Thursday (Weekday Brides Series Book 7) by Catherine Bybee Page A

asked if the rumors were true.”
    Michael was this side of Hollywood royalty and a former “husband” that Alliance had arranged. He and Meg had been visiting Val’s resort when everything went to hell with Alonzo.
    Gwen kept talking. “Then there is Neil and Rick. The two of them have had their knickers in a knot ever since you announced the contract.”
    Gabi unfolded from the chair and stood. She hated the wobble in her legs and did her best to steady herself. “I don’t think I have to tell you that your husband is suspicious by nature. And Rick is probably following Judy’s lead on this. I know she and Meg have been talking.”
    Gwen followed her into the kitchen and leaned against the counter.
    “You can call it suspicion, but I will call it deductive reasoning. Since you’ve lived in California you haven’t so much as gone to a nightclub or dinner without the company of a woman.”
    Gabi opened her mouth to argue and Gwen stopped her. “If I’m not mistaken, the only charity event you attempted to attend alone was the one where pictures of you and Hunter emerged. Correct me if I’m wrong.”
    “I’ve not been a recluse.”
    “Close. Dangerously close and you know it. Marriage, even the arranged kind with a prenuptial contract, doesn’t make sense, Gabriella. You have friends . . . people who can help if you’d trust us.”
    Gabi couldn’t take the worry on Gwen’s face. Facing the sink, she proceeded to wash the cup in her hand. The emotional part of her wanted to confide in the other woman . . . but the smart and thinking part . . . that section of her decided now was not the time discuss a billionaire’s blackmail. Without looking at Gwen, she attempted to stretch the truth.
    “He’s an attractive man.” Which wasn’t a lie. “While his proposal and financial offer were unorthodox, I must admit having a man at my mercy wasn’t an awful position to be in.”
    “What are you saying? Hunter Blackwell is therapy?”
    “Perhaps.” She rinsed the cup and set it on a towel to dry before turning. “I realized the path I set since Alonzo hasn’t been healthy. Hunter offered me an opportunity to break the cycle. He will be a safe companion for a few months, then we can go our separate ways and perhaps I’ll be able to find trust in men again.”
    Gwen moved beside her, set her cup inside the sink. “I want to believe you.”
    Gabi met the other woman’s gaze. “Then do.”
    A knock on the door interrupted the moment.
    A floral delivery van sat in the driveway, the media cameras were poised and ready.
    Gabi opened the door to the face of a bewildered teen. “Mrs. Blackwell?”
    That was going to take some time to get used to. “Yes.”
    He handed her what looked like a dozen roses . . . velvet red. “Can you sign here?”
    She did. “Let me get a tip.”
    “It’s all taken care of. Have a nice day.”
    “How lovely,” Gwen said behind her.
    Gabi set the flowers next to those Hunter had sent her earlier in the week. Each bouquet was different . . . from tropical ensembles to lilies . . . the roses were a new direction.
    The card held simple instructions. Formal dress, seven tonight. H.B.
    Gwen glanced over her shoulder. “The flowers are a nice touch.”
    “For the cameras, I’m sure.”
    Gwen gathered her purse and kissed Gabi’s cheek. “It appears you have a date with your husband.”
    “Does that sound as strange to your ears as it does mine?”
    Gwen laughed and placed a hand on her arm. “Do be careful.”
    “I am. And please, if the masses begin to talk, remind everyone that I thought I loved a man who nearly killed me and I managed to survive. Hunter needed a wife and I’m filling a role. There are no emotions involved and no one is trying to end my life.”
    “If you truly believe that, then do me a favor,” Gwen said. “Try and enjoy yourself.” Her hand reached up and patted the side of her face. “The lines of worry etch across your beautiful eyes,