Page 37 of Consequence of One Reckless Night

As he showed her around the eight-bedroom, nine-bathroom house, Raquel comprehended just how far out of her league Alexandre was. Really who was this man who owned a yacht and this luxurious villa? What did he do to afford such an extravagant lifestyle?

On the heels of that came the terrifying thought:What did she know about this man she was marrying?

Seeing how utterly still she’d become, Alexandre asked her, “Is everything alright?”

“No!” she cried, suddenly feeling uncertain and panicky about her future.

“What is it?” Immediately his arms were around her, but she pushed out of his embrace, putting distance between them.

“We can’t rush into marriage without knowing anything about each other.” Confused brown eyes searched his face, begging him to understand her turmoil. “I know next to nothing about you. I don’t know your favorite foods, your... your favorite color, even... even what you do for a living! How... how will this marriage work between us when I live in the south of Goa and you are here... where is this place, anyway?” Aware that she was unravelling around the edges, her self-control fragmenting, Raquel stumbled to the nearest sofa where she sat down with a thump, looking up at him—anxious. “Who are you really?”

“It’s a little too late to ask that question, isn’t it?”

Chapter Fifteen

Alexandre vigorouslyswam the length of the infinity pool on the second floor, with only the stars above in the moonless sky to keep him company. From this height, he could see the tops of the various palms placed strategically around the villa which shielded the pool from prying eyes. The beach lay a few feet away, the sound of waves crashing on the sugary sands the only sound to disrupt an otherwise eerily quiet night.

Somewhere in the palms, a bird stirred, letting out a squawk before settling in for the night. It was a perfect night to swim under the stars, but not for him, Alexandre thought as he put himself through a rigorous pace, intent on tiring himself out. He was restless, and his body screamed with exhaustion, but sleep wouldn’t come. He hadn’t slept since bringing Raquel home.

If he thought they would transition smoothly into a marriage of convenience, then he couldn’t have been more wrong. Raquel wasn’t as complacent as he thought. He thought she would be happy in this luxury home he’d built as his citadel—a symbol of his success, a house that rivalled his grandfather’s home—but she wasn’t. She’d seemed awestruck at first and then she had unraveled right in front of his eyes.

Who are you?Her words played in his ears on a loop.

It always came down to that, he thought wryly. No matter what he did, his worth would always be weighed against his pedigree, something he’d had no say in.

He truly hated the way the society functioned. Money opened doors, but not people’s minds. Lineage was just as important as wealth, perhaps more, and every time he heard someone speak of his less than salubrious past, he was reminded that he would never be a true Monteiro.

He bore the name of course, but he would always be an outsider. And he was more conscious of his less than stellar lineage now more than ever.

What had he expected from Raquel? An avowal of love? She hadn’t heartily agreed to his proposition. He’d just declared they would be married. They were marrying to give their child legitimacy, not for affection and certainly, not for love.

I don’t need love!

With a curse, he struck out, swimming another lap in the pool which ran the entire length of the house. The pool’s illusion was such that one would think they could swim from one end of the pool through the tops of the palms and directly into the sea, but it was just that—a clever illusion.

Just like his life—his money, success, all gave an illusion of credibility, but the truth was that his illegitimacy rankled him. It was a yawning chasm that would never be bridged. He would always be an outsider in a society where pedigree was the currency of choice, and he would never be a legitimate Monteiro.

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