Alejandro didn’t offer up a correction either as Valencia led Rebecca over to the couch where he’d been sitting before she walked in. He put an arm around her and drew her close, and she tried not to shiver at the heat of his body where it touched hers. They sank down together and he motioned to a servant. A moment later he pressed a glass of something cold into her hand.
“I can’t drink champagne.” Tiny effervescent bubbles rose and broke on the surface, leaving little doubt to the glass’s content.
“We are having champagne, amor. You are having sparkling grape juice.”
“Oh, of course.” She sniffed the bubbly white juice, touched by his thoughtfulness. Or maybe it was Valencia who’d thought of it.
“To Alejandro and Rebecca,” Valencia said, raising her glass. “May today be the beginning of a very happy life together.”
They drank to Valencia’s toast, and then rose to get into the limo that would take them to the Registry Hall. Valencia and Phillipe, who only had been able to get away from his business at the last minute, talked and laughed the whole way.
Even Alejandro laughed from time to time. It was clear he adored his little sister. He was almost a different person with her around. More carefree and easy. The frown lines that Rebecca saw so often were not evident now. It made her wistful for the time before when Alejandro had been carefree and easy with her.
Rebecca could see why he didn’t frown with his sister around. Valencia’s personality was infectious. She was a kind, happy person, and she loved her husband to distraction. Rebecca watched the other couple enviously. If Valencia loved her handsome Frenchman, Phillipe worshipped the ground his wife walked on. Their children, who they’d left in France with his parents, were their pride and joy. It was a blessed existence they shared. Rebecca could only hope for a fraction of their happiness once her baby was born, though she held out little hope. Alejandro’s resentment was not likely to fade. If he’d spent five years thinking she’d stolen his deal and planning his revenge, he would not get over being forced to marry her because she was pregnant.
The ceremony was conducted in Spanish with a translator for her—required by law—and over quickly. Though she hadn’t been in Spain the requisite amount of time to marry a citizen, Alejandro somehow got around that detail. It was good to be rich and famous, apparently.
Valencia hugged her tightly after it was over. “I am so glad my brother has you. You will make him happy. He deserves happiness, yes?”
Rebecca smiled tremulously. “He does.”
Though right now he looked as if he’d be happier anywhere but standing in the Registry Office with a new bride. At least to her. Fortunately, his discomfort was not apparent to his sister or her husband. Phillipe clapped him on the back and congratulated him profusely, and Valencia hugged him and whispered something in his ear.
After the ceremony, they had a late lunch and then spent the rest of the afternoon shopping for baby furniture. When Valencia first suggested it, Rebecca wanted to protest. She didn’t because she expected Alejandro would put an end to the idea. When he didn’t say anything, she was surprised. He simply wore a look of resignation. She imagined that shopping for baby things so soon, when they’d been married only a couple of hours and she didn’t even look pregnant, was hard on him. It would surely make him recall the last time he’d picked out cribs and bassinets.
She wanted to go to him, wanted to take his hand and squeeze it the way he’d squeezed hers when she’d told him about Parker. Eventually, when they’d strolled into yet another store featuring yet more cribs, Rebecca found herself standing beside him. She put her hand into his and gave it a quick squeeze before joining Valencia, who was cooing over onesies and piling them into a basket.
By the time they arrived back at the villa after dinner, it was late. Valencia and Phillipe retired to their room—they’d tried to stay at the Villa de Música to give the newlyweds privacy, but Alejandro had refused to hear of it—and Rebecca found herself alone with Alejandro in the gathering room where they’d had coffee.
She didn’t quite know what to say to him after spending all day in company, so she set down her coffee cup—decaf, of course—and got to her feet. “I should go to my room. I’m sure you have some business to attend to tonight anyway.”
He’d looked up as she stood. Now, his dark eyes glinted as they raked over her. “We are in the master suite, mi esposa. It would be odd not to share a room now that we are married, sí?”
Oh sweet heaven, how was she going to survive sharing a room with him?
“Yes, I suppose that’s true.”
He stood. “Then we shall retire. Your things have already been moved.”
Of course they had. Once Alejandro made up his mind, he didn’t waste any time in acting.
He took her hand and led her up the stairs. Blood thundering in her ears, she followed him. He let her go through the door first. If she’d anticipated him picking her up and carrying her over the threshold, she would have been disappointed. Fortunately, she’d expected no such thing.
She could see the big king-sized bed in the room that lay beyond the living area. Had she gotten pregnant in that bed? Or had it happened in Dubai?
Alejandro walked over to the bar and poured a sherry for himself. “Would you like anything? Water, perhaps?”
“No, I’m fine.”
Fifteen minutes later, Alejandro hadn’t spoken again. He showed no signs of heading into the bedroom anytime soon. She remembered last night, how she’d pitifully asked him to stay when he’d carried her from the chaise to her bed. He’d refused. What did that mean for tonight? Were they going to sleep in a bed with a mound of
