Page 7 of Cinderella's One-Night Baby

Showering orders given, the women left the bathroom.

Gabrielle stripped her uniform off and stepped under the square shower head that gave the illusion of floating off the ceiling. It was so large it could comfortably shower water on two people, and as she made that observation, an image floated in her head of Andrés standing beneath the spray, the chest she’d had that glimpse of completely bare...

Flustered at the unwanted image, flustered too at the hot, sticky feeling in the base of her abdomen, she quickly turned her attention to the digital screen inbuilt into the tiles that had an array of symbols and temperature readings on it. Not having the faintest idea what she was doing, she tentatively pressed the largest symbol, a circle, on the top left corner. In less than a second, water set at the perfect temperature cascaded over her.

Resolutelynotthinking of the married Andrés or his naked chest, she popped the shampoo lid. It had the most delicious scent she’d ever smelt and felt like silk on her hands. If she didn’t havetime is of the essenceplaying on a loop in her head, she’d have washed it twice just for the pleasure. Instead she moved onto the tube, which turned out to be an anti-frizz deep conditioner. Normally only able to afford the cheapest conditioner, she happily coated her hair with it, and then, while waiting for it to do its thing, sniffed the four varieties of decidedly feminine shower gels. The first was so delicious, reminding her of lilies in bloom, that she came close to swooning. She scrubbed every inch of her body with it.

Hair and body clean and rinsed, she reluctantly pressed the circle symbol again and the cascade stopped.

Oh, well, she told herself as she wrapped the warmest, biggest, fluffiest towel around her body, at least she had a story to share with Lucas; the day mama had a taster of how the elitist of society’s elite lived.

Teeth brushed, oversized fluffy robe on, she stepped back into the bedroom and found it transformed into something that resembled a beauty parlour, the dressing table chair pulled back, hair styling products and a vast array of makeup and brushes lined up and ready for use.

Sophia, sitting on the corner sofa talking to a woman with a tape measure in hand, turned her face to Gabrielle with a smile and, for that brief moment, Gabrielle found herself ashamed to meet Sophia’s eye; ashamed because if she could peer into Gabrielle’s mind she’d find in it that brief fantasy of Sophia’s husband naked.

At least it had been unbidden and she’d cut the imagery off practically the moment it formed, Gabrielle tried to comfort herself. Tried. Because unbidden or not, it had beenherbrain that conjured the image, and though she’d steadfastly refused to allow it to form again, it made her feel terrible to know she’d betrayed this nice woman with her imagination. As far as Gabrielle was concerned, the moment a couple committed themselves, that made them off-limits, even in the mind. Marriage made that commitment sacred. Or it should.

Before Lucas, marriage was something she’d assumed would be in her future. Meet a nice man, fall in love and settle down. But the commitment of marriage meant two becoming one, a unity of complete openness and the baring of souls. For Lucas’s sake, she could not risk opening her soul to anyone. The consequences of it all going wrong—and many marriagesdidgo wrong—were too great.

Returning Sophia’s smile, the shame in Gabrielle’s chest lifted.

It had been a mental blip, that was all. When they got to the palace, it would be Queen Catalina, and the party itself that would take all her attention, not the man she was accompanying as a favour.

Andrés was sprawled on a sofa sipping bourbon, flicking through the television channels and telling himself that checking his watch every twenty seconds wouldn’t make the stylists working on Gabrielle work any quicker. They had a lot of work to do with her. That wasn’t a criticism, just an observation. Andrés and Sophia hadn’t been born into money. He remembered well the life they’d had before weekly manicures and pedicures and thrice weekly trims became routine. That life had been one of scrimping and saving. He remembered walking to school in shoes too tight around the toes and seeing flash cars zoom by and thinking,One day I’ll drive a car like that. He would see men in tailored suits made of the finest material and think,One day I’ll wear clothes like that. And he would see his father return home after a long day at work to a wife who worked equally long hours, the pair of them barely able to conceal their contempt of the other, and think,There will never come a day that I marry. By the age of thirteen, he’d been firm in his mind about this. When he grew up, he would be rich and happy and travel the world wearing the best clothes and live exactly as he pleased, single for ever. Which meant no children. His parents were proof that children were a tie you could not escape. Children with someone you detested was a recipe for a lifetime of misery and to Andrés’s mind, life was too short to spend it being miserable. If his parents wanted to spend the rest of their lives stuck together, even though their children had both long flown the family nest and the wealth Andrés shared freely with them meant they had the means to escape each other and forge new lives apart, then that was their business.

His last-minute date for the evening had the right idea. He’d seen the tightening of her mouth when Sophia had asked about her son, and guessed the relationship with the son’s father had broken down and she’d sensibly decided to live apart from him. Better than making her child live in a war zone? He didn’t know. His parents’ marriage had been very much a verbal war zone but as a child, he’d been terrified of them splitting up. Divorce had loomed large in his mind from the day he’d first learned what it meant.

The good thing now was that the whole mess with his ex, Susi, was over. These were things he need never worry about again, and he made a mental note to call his doctor first thing and get a vasectomy arranged. It was time. He would not put himself through that again. He’d known in his heart that her child couldn’t be his—he was far too careful of accidents to let that happen—but still there had been that cold spark of fear that an accidenthadhappened. If the tests had proved the child to be his then he would have felt obliged to tie his life to a woman who had more sides than a hexagon.

He wondered why the father of Gabrielle’s child wasn’t on the scene before dismissing the thought as none of his business. She’d been very young to have a child in this day and age though. Again, not a criticism, just an observation. Andrés did not appreciate people casting judgement on his life and so made sure not to cast judgement on theirs. Her judgement on him, calling him a spoilt brat, had been deserved. His bad mood had led to him behaving atrociously, but what had shocked him had been Gabrielle’s willingness to call him out on it. Only Sophia ever did that, and that was only because she was his big sister and thought it her duty.

He poured himself another bourbon—just a small one—and allowed himself a look at the time. They needed to leave in four minutes if they were going to make it to the palace before the banquet started. He’d accepted that they would miss the initial champagne reception meet-and-greet but so long as they were there in time to take their designated seats then all would...

Voices sounded, breaking through his thoughts. The team had finished with his last-minute date.

Tipping his bourbon down his throat, he rose to his feet at the same moment the most ravishing woman he’d ever set eyes on appeared through the archway.

CHAPTER THREE

GABRIELLEKNEWTHEshoes Sophia had coaxed her into wearing were perfect for the dress, mainly because the heels meant they didn’t need to take much of the hem up. The problem was, she hadn’t worn heels since those horrid casino days, and trying to walk in them with anything like elegance was a battle she feared she would lose, and so it was that she joined Andrés in the living area of his magnificent apartment with Sophia walking behind her softly chanting, ‘One foot in front of the other, one foot in front of the other,’ and mentally praying not to fall flat on her face. So intense was her concentration that at first the figure rising from the far sofa was nothing but a blur in her vision. It wasn’t until her heart made a powerful thump that her eyes focused.

She actually felt her lungs close up and push the air out.

It took a long beat for Andrés to recognise the ravishing woman who’d appeared under the archway with Sophia as the oil-stained bossy border guard of the unflattering uniform and masculine boots. An even longer beat for him to close his mouth.

It was Sophia who broke the silence. ‘Well?’ she demanded, pointing her finger at Gabrielle. ‘What do you think?’

Her words brought Andrés round from his temporary paralysis. ‘I think,’ he said drily, focusing on Sophia as he strode over to them, ‘that you look and sound very well for someone with a sickness bug.’

‘I’m feeling much better,’ she said cheerfully. ‘Too late to change the arrangements back to what they were though. Now tell us what you think of Gabrielle’s transformation. Doesn’t she look divine?’

He found he had to snatch a breath before letting his gaze fall back on his last-minute date.

It must be the starkness in the difference between the woman who had disappeared to be made over and the woman who’d returned that had caused his paralysis, he figured. The contrast was astounding. The woman standing in front of him, blushing beautifully under the weight of his scrutiny, was wearing an elegant deep blue velvet dress that swept over one shoulder and beneath the other. Flaring gracefully at the hips, it pooled in a small train behind her. Her hair was loose; thicker, glossier and longer than he’d envisaged and fell like waves down to the swell of her breasts. He would never have guessed the utilitarian uniform concealed a perfect curvy body, or guessed that a shimmer of makeup could make an interesting face come alive and turn into something beautiful.

The only thing missing was jewellery. She wore not a scrap of it. About to suggest Sophia lend her some of her own, he looked even closer and realised Gabrielle didn’t need jewellery after all. She sparkled perfectly without it.

‘The team have done an amazing job,’ he agreed. He’d known the team he’d brought in for Sophia could make anyone look a million dollars but this was incredible. He would have to pay them a bonus. ‘No one would guess from looking at her that she works as a border guard.’

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