Page 9 of Cinderella's One-Night Baby

‘I...’ Gabrielle tried to think coherently through the blood pounding in her brain. It hadn’t occurred to her that the Moratos were anything but husband and wife. ‘I’ve never really thought about it, and Sophia wears a wedding ring.’

‘That’s because sheismarried. Her husband’s in New Zealand on business—he’s a wine dealer. A simple internet search will confirm that I have no wife or partner, and for the avoidance of doubt, I have no intention of ever marrying.’ His black stare bored into her. ‘Is this a problem for you?’

‘No, of course not,’ she lied, even though she wasn’t exactly sure why it was a lie. Nothing had changed as far as the party went. This wasn’t a real date. She was still Sophia’s substitute, accompanying Andrés only because there hadn’t been time for him to arrange someone more fitting. ‘I just thought you were married, that’s all. It doesn’t change anything.’

He held her stare another moment before giving a short, sharp nod. ‘Good. Because we have arrived.’

Gabrielle blinked her gaze away from him—it was unnerving how staring into those black eyes made her feel all aflutter—and saw they were driving through the palace’s famous arched gate built high into the ancient stone perimeter wall.

The car stopped and two members of the palace staff appeared and opened their respective doors for them.

Out on the gravelled stone of the huge courtyard, Gabrielle breathed the fresh sea air—the palace was built in the rocky shores of the Mediterranean overlooking its own private bay—deep into her lungs and took a moment to compose herself by taking in her surroundings. Her heartbeat was strangely erratic.

Andrés observed Gabrielle’s stare fix on the huge fountain with the three marble horses rising majestically out of the water in the centre of the courtyard before her gaze lifted to take in the palace itself.

Now that he’d got over the ick factor of Gabrielle thinking he was married to his own sister, he found himself considering her reaction to it. It had put to rest the lingering doubt that she’d been a willing participant in his sister’s matchmaking scheme. She’d been clearly mortified at having made the wrong assumption but he sensed something more than embarrassment had heated her cheeks enough to warm an igloo. Intriguing...

The last of the day’s sun was landing like microscopic jewels over her oval face and one bare shoulder, and when she turned her face to him and her oversized lips tugged into a hesitant small smile, the strangest frisson raced through his blood to imagine if those lips were as soft and pliant as they appeared.

One of the palace guards waiting for them cleared his throat loudly, snapping Andrés back to the present.

Shaking the strange frisson away, he indicated for Gabrielle to follow him to the main door.

As they were the last guests to arrive and he’d called ahead to notify the officials of the change to his plus one, they got through the security part quickly, and then they were led inside the palace itself. Having visited it a number of times since Catalina had taken the throne, Andrés’s familiarity with the route they were taking and the lavishness of his own lifestyle meant the opulence of the palace was something he barely noticed. As such, when they followed the palace officials escorting them into a long, wide corridor, he’d taken a handful of steps over its deep blue carpet before he noticed that Gabrielle had dropped back.

Not just dropped back. She’d stopped walking altogether, her chin lifted and neck craning slowly about her, dark brown eyes wide with wonder as she soaked in the majesty surrounding them.

He strode back to her. ‘I appreciate that this is your first time here but we have four minutes to take our seats before the banquet starts.’

Andrés’s deeply masculine voice cut through Gabrielle’s almost panicked stupor.

Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined she would one day find herself on the threshold of the famed Portrait Gallery, where the painted images of every single one of Monte Cleure’s monarchs through the centuries lined the high walls. To be here, in the flesh, seconds away from sharing four walls with Queen Catalina...

The excitement and nerves churning in her stomach had become so violent that she could easily vomit over the deep blue carpet running the corridor’s length.

She blinked vigorously, snatched as much air as she could get into her tight lungs, and met Andrés’s black stare.

Surprisingly, sympathetic amusement tugged at his sensuous lips. ‘The first time is always overwhelming.’

‘Even for you?’ She couldn’t imagine this arrogant, confident man feeling overwhelmed by anything.

He raised his eyebrows pointedly. ‘I don’t come from money, Gabrielle. I remember well the feeling I had in my stomach when I first joined this world. I was certain that people would take one look at me and judge me an imposter.’

She took in the immaculately groomed features of this devastatingly handsome man and the way his tuxedo wrapped around his fabulous body as if tuxedos had been designed with Andrés Morato in mind, and just could not imagine him ever doubting himself or his place in this world. ‘How did you do it?’

‘By telling myself that I could. I made a determined effort not to let my body language show my fear.’

‘It worked?’

He raised a shoulder nonchalantly. ‘We’re here right now aren’t we? And it can work for you too. You have an excellent poker face—’

‘Do I?’

The way Gabrielle’s face had scrunched up in disbelief amused Andrés. ‘I spent the time you were searching my car wondering if you really were going to taser me.’

Her pillowy lips quirked. ‘I was tempted.’

‘I did wonder,’ he said drily. ‘And I would have deserved it. If you feel nerves getting the better of you, all you have to do is remember to breathe, hold your head high and put your poker face on.’

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