Page 43 of Consequence of One Reckless Night

“Raquel’s a good woman, Alexandre,” Leandro said, his eyes flashing with an emotion Alexandre thought was regret.

He frowned. Had his brother really wanted to marry Raquel? Did he harbor feelings for her?

Anger surged in him at that thought.She’s mine!a scream reverberated inside his head, and he quickly looked away, lest his brother saw the violence of his emotions. He might not love Raquel, but he knew he was dangerously close to losing his head. No woman had affected him so viscerally before—no one had breached the cold walls of his heart. And yet, this slip of a woman was already driving him crazy.

Suddenly, a hush settled in the chapel, and he raised his head to look up at his bride who stood poised at a side entrance, looking lost and—indecisive.

Relief flooded through him. She came!

Her wedding dress was champagne-colored, one of the many he had ordered for her to choose from. It was the modest one of the lot, with a full skirt which fell to her feet in swirls of tulle and lace. Lace covered her arms and the low back, leaving her neck bare, lending her an air of vulnerability.

He noted that she’d chosen not to adorn her neck, and he’d bought her at least a dozen necklaces in gold and other precious gems. Small diamond studs twinkled in her earlobes, and it was the pair that she wore daily, he observed grimly.

It was a small sign of defiance, he understood. Everything she wore today, from her clothes to her shoes, her makeup and even the small clutch of flowers were given by him.

Raquel had come to him with just the clothes on her back and he had showered her with material gifts, making up for the fact that she had left her home empty-handed. But that she chose to wear her only possession—her earrings—spoke volumes. She wouldn’t be influenced by extravagant gifts, he realized. Admiration sparked in him at her subtle defiance to stay relevant in this hastily arranged marriage.

When his gaze returned to her face, his expression hardened. His bride wasn’t looking at him, but at his older half-brother! Jealousy reared its head and he stepped toward Raquel who stood alone at the door, her sister having left her side to take a seat at the first pew.

Since the wedding was held behind closed doors, an attempt to keep the ceremony a secret from the press, Raquel was instructed to use one of the side doors to make her entrance.

As she tarried at the door, looking at his brother, Alexandre forced himself to tamp down the savage envy torching his insides. Raquel stared at Leandro with contrition and guilt, but Alexandre saw yearning, too and it incensed him. How dare she look longingly at his brother when she was minutes away from pledging herself to him!

Walking up to her, he grabbed her arm none too gently. “If you’re done ogling my brother, we can get this wedding underway.”

A startled gasp escaped her as she tore her eyes away from Leandro to stare up at him. Her make up was light and understated, with eyes done beautifully with a bit of color on the eyelids and black lines decorating the lower curve of the upper lids. A touch of color highlighted her lovely cheeks, and maroon lips formed a small O as she spluttered with anger.

“How dare you insinuate that I... I...”

“Save the explanation,” he hissed, pulling down the veil to cover her face. “I know you were meant to be his bride but, unfortunately for you, you will become mine.”

She went stiff under his hand, but he didn’t wait around for her response. Instead, he pulled her toward the altar where a smiling priest was waiting for them.

****

Raquel didn’t rememberanything about the ceremony. Not the vows she recited after the priest like an automaton, nor the exchange of rings. Not even the sermon, which was tastefully short.

Since the wedding was a traditional Catholic one, the priest concluded with a blessing and left out the kissing part. And Raquel was grateful for that small concession. She wasn’t prepared to kiss Alexandre—not after last night.

After her conversation with Ana that morning, she’d been so confused that she had almost backed out of the wedding. Only, the child in her womb had reminded her what was at stake here. She recalled Alexandre’s words, reminding her that this marriage wasn’t just about them—it was about providing legitimacy to an innocent child, conceived accidentally.

So she had, albeit unwillingly, let an army of women prepare her for a wedding which she wasn’t sure about anymore. Ana’s presence, though had been a relief, was also a stark reminder that the rest of her family had chosen to stay away from her wedding. Her brother Arcanjo phoned her in the morning, expressing his surprise at the sudden wedding and offered her his blessings, along with an apology that he couldn’t fly down from Texas for the ceremony. It was then that she realized that Alexandre had actually invited her family to the wedding, but only Ana had chosen to turn up.

As she walked down the chapel’s corridor, dismay filled her. She’d experienced the inexplicable urge to hurl the bouquet away and run in the opposite direction but the heavy weight in her womb reminded her that she was marrying for her child’s sake.

With a burdened heart, she stepped into the chapel, only to stop at the sight of Leandro. Seeing him had been a slap of cold reality. With her one act of defiance, she had deceived this kind man who would have been her husband, had she not flagrantly offered herself to Alexandre. In her need to savor her last moments of freedom, she’d forgotten all about Leandro, not caring that her wanton behavior would affect him, too.

Had she not succumbed to temptation that night, she would have become the wife of a man who had shown genuine interest in marrying her. Instead, here she was, tied to man, irrevocably, who despite being kind and considerate toward her, didn’t even want to know anything about her. Alexandre wanted nothing from her—other than the child in her belly.

And he wasn’t prepared to give her what she desired. He would only give her respect and loyalty. Not love. Never love.

Remorse and shame swamped her, and Raquel knew she had to ask Leandro for forgiveness, but Alexandre mistook her contrition for longing. She was incensed by his disgusting insinuation that she desired his brother, but he hadn’t given her time to respond, and had all but dragged her to the altar.

And yet as she stared up at him through the veil, Raquel couldn’t remember why she was angry with him. Dark eyes, intense with emotion, bored into hers. Lips, beautiful and full, parted as his gaze fell to her own, stoking a fire inside her as his tongue came out to wet his supple lower lip. With a flick of his hands, her veil was lifted, and Alexandre stared down at her—possessively.

“Mrs. Monteiro,” he whispered, before his lips slammed down on hers.

She let out a squeak which immediately turned to a delightful moan as his lips plundered her mouth. His hot tongue thrust possessively between her lips, reacquainting himself with every inch of her mouth even as impatient hands yanked her against a hard body, not caring that half a dozen eyes were trained on them.

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