Page 107 of Exotic Affairs: The Mistress Bride\The Spanish Husband\The Bellini Bride

‘No mess,’ she denied, then repeated it when she saw his disbelieving look. ‘No mess, Daddy. Luiz is what I want. He’s what I’ve always wanted.’

He grimaced. ‘But not handed to him on a plate like a damned sacrifice.’

‘I’m no sacrifice either!’ she informed him crossly. ‘Or are you trying to imply that Luiz feels nothing for me in return? Because if you are,’ she continued angrily, ‘then maybe you should just turn around and go away again.’

‘I’m not implying anything.’ He sighed again. ‘Good grief,’ he added. ‘The man has twice gone to big enough lengths in his attempts to get you to this day…’

Twice? Caroline felt that chill hit her spine again. ‘What do you mean twice?’ she demanded.

‘Nothing,’ he grunted, going all shifty-eyed. ‘Well, would you look at that?’ he then exclaimed in surprise, diverting her attention to the spot he was looking at near the castle entrance. ‘What’s he doing here? He never told me he knew Luiz!’

He never told me… Caroline repeated to herself as she too turned to stare at Felipe. And so many, many things began to slide into place. Her own father was Luiz’s mole, though unwittingly.

Oh, Daddy, she thought sighingly. And when he went to go and speak to Felipe she stopped him. ‘Watch him, Pops,’ she warned, and just the quiet use of her childhood name for him was enough to alert Sir Edward to trouble. ‘Watch every single word you say to him and watch your back.’

‘Why?’ he frowned. ‘Who is he?’

‘He’s Luiz’s half-brother—the man who thinks he should have inherited all of this…’

Enlightenment came to him as quickly as it had come to his daughter. His soft curse confirmed it.

The helicopter lifted off then, rendering words useless as the sounds of its rotors filled the air. Her father seemed to use the time the helicopter took to sweep off down the valley to come to some kind of decision.

‘Let’s go somewhere where we can talk in private,’ he said flatly. ‘I have something I want to say to you…’

Caroline wanted to talk to Luiz. She needed to talk to Luiz. But the juggernaut called her wedding was now rolling ahead at full speed, and Luiz, she assumed, was already waiting for her at the tiny church in th

e centre of the village where, since her father had arrived, so had gathered the full Vazquez family, to witness the event taking place.

‘You look beautiful, señorita,’ Abril’s gentle voice brought Caroline’s anxious eyes into focus on the mirror she was standing in front of.

The ankle-length ivory crêpe gown was quite simply sensational, even if she did think so herself. The corset-like bodice skimmed her slender ribcage and scooped low over the creamy slopes of her breasts, and the little off-the-shoulder sleeves added just the right touch of vulnerable charm to a bride who was about to walk down a church aisle towards her bridegroom.

To add a final touch, her full-length veil was secured to her head by a delicate diamond tiara. The overall effect was simplicity itself—her style, her way of doing things.

Her wedding.

Luiz, she told her amethyst eyes via the mirror. You are about to marry Luiz.

But how could Luiz want to marry her, knowing how badly she misjudged him seven years ago?

Luiz never said he wanted to marry you, only that he needed to marry someone, she reminded those anxious amethyst eyes. And all you’ve been doing these last few days is pretending that this is a marriage made in heaven. For all you know, Luiz could be planning to cast you aside once he’s fulfilled the legal requirements of his father’s will.

The perfect formula for revenge? He walks away from you the way you walked away from him seven years ago?

Her stomach wanted to perform somersaults. She wanted to run to the bathroom to be sick in the nearest receptacle. She knew Luiz; she knew what he was capable of. And she suddenly remembered his scorpion. It was sitting there right in front of her now, crawling down the mirror as if ready to strike.

‘Señorita?’ Abril’s voice sounded concerned. Could she see that Caroline was about to lose every ounce of courage she possessed in one huge wave of guilt?

‘Señorita…’ A gentle hand covered her forearm, the fingers small and brown against her own pale skin. ‘You are shivering,’ the little maid murmured worriedly. ‘Are you frightened, señorita? Please don’t be frightened,’ she urged her comfortingly. ‘El conde is a good man. Everyone in the valley says so. He reminds them of his grandpa, Don Angeles. He was a good man also. A strong man.’

‘I’m okay.’ Caroline managed to push out the whisper. ‘I just…’ She shivered again, as if something scaly had walked over her flesh.

With a blink she attempted to pull herself together, shifting her gaze to her little maid of honour, who was standing beside her in a simple gown of virginal white. She looked enchanting. The perfect foil for a fair-skinned bride, with her black hair and black doe-like eyes and her beautiful olive skin.

‘I’m fine,’ she assured her for a second time, and even managed a smile.

Reassured, Abril handed Caroline her small bouquet of ivory roses, picked only an hour ago from the garden and woven together by Abril herself.

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