Filed to story: A Matter of Sin and Love Novel Read Free Online
Elena turned to the oversized garment bag the housekeeper had hung in Christian’s dressing room. She didn’t want to look. She knew it would be a mistake. There would be no wedding. Yet…how could she resist peeking at the dress created for her by one of the country’s top designers?
She pulled off the protective covers and stood back.
This was the dress the renowned Aurelio had designed? He’d conceived this based on the clothes she’d left at her father’s the night of his party?
Elena cringed when she thought of her uniform trousers and shirt being measured and assessed by someone who worked only with the finest materials, the most glamorous women.
This had to be a joke.
Yet the full-length, full-skirted wedding dress mesmerised her. Strapless, it was ruched to a point at one hip and fitted to reveal an hourglass figure. Feminine contours were accentuated by a dusting of glitter from breast to knee on one side. Despite being fitted, the dress featured a ballooning froth of satin skirt that turned the gown from sultry into sultry fairy tale princess.
Elena’s breath sucked in, air lodging like a weight in her lungs.
This dress was not her. It was ostentatiously feminine and graceful. Alluring.
True, you’d need height to carry off a dress like this. She definitely had height, but that was all.
She’d never wear such a dress. Even if she were getting married, which she wasn’t. Severely she squashed the what if in her head, the daydream of her and Christian as a real couple, not just short-term.
Atavistic warning flared as she lifted a hand. Surely it was unlucky to try on a bridal gown for a wedding that wouldn’t take place?
Curiosity won out. She’d never again get to try a designer original.
Ten minutes later she stood, her hair pinned up off her shoulders, her arms extended from her body so as not to mar the lustrous satin, soft as butter, that draped her. The fabric was slippery and fine and if she didn’t know better she’d think that was a starburst of diamonds, not rhinestones, rippling down from her breast.
The dress was too long when worn barefoot and a little big. She hitched it up to cover her breasts as it sagged, but still… Elena shook her head, disbelieving. She looked—
‘You’re gorgeous, cari?o. Stunning.’ The low voice wrapped around her, liquefying her knees.
In the mirror her eyes met Christian’s and shock reverberated. The floor moved. Surely there was a seismic shift, not simply the impact of that fathomless indigo gaze.
Elena’s pulse became a thud, her breathing shallow as her mouth dried and her mind struggled to believe her eyes.
She didn’t want to turn because she knew in reality that look would be surprise and lust. Yet as she watched him in the mirror, her stupid heart imagined more than desire on Christian’s face. It imagined tenderness, possessiveness and something yet more profound. Something that made her tremble from her knees to her knocking heart. Something like what she felt.
She’d fought it for weeks, the knowledge that she wanted far more than sex and companionship from Christian. That she cared for him more deeply than she should.
That she’d fallen head over heels for him.
Christian advanced slowly, his eyes eating her up. She didn’t turn. Here, away from the window’s bright light, the fantasy lingered that he felt the same as she did.
‘It’s just the dress,’ she croaked.
She felt more vulnerable in this wedding dress than she ever had naked. The white satin, the embodiment of all those little-girl dreams she’d never allowed herself to harbour, had undone her. Her emotions were too close to the surface. It grew harder to hide her feelings.
Yet the way he treated her, the tenderness and joy, the way he’d begun to open himself to her…all had made her hope.
Christian stopped behind her. Had he read the yearning in her eyes? Her shiver of excitement?
‘It’s not the dress. It’s you. You’re beautiful.’
Finally Elena tore her gaze away. Enough was enough. ‘I shouldn’t have put it on. I don’t want to damage it, but I was curious. I’ll send it straight back.’
‘No! Leave it.’
Elena’s head jerked up, her gaze snagging on his in the mirror. ‘Why? I can’t keep it.’ She brushed her palm down the petal-soft fabric. The dress was ridiculously unsuitable for her, even without the fact she had no occasion to wear it. ‘I’ll tell my father.’
‘Don’t.’ Christian frowned, his expression so forbidding she swung around to face him, layers of material swishing and swaying around her. The soft, unfamiliar weight of it reminded her she had no business playing pretend.
Face to face she read tension in his features. Far more tension than the sight of her in a wedding gown warranted.
‘I have to, Christian. Don’t you see? He’s still going ahead with these ridiculous wedding plans. Someone has to stop him.’ She breathed deep. ‘I will if you won’t.’
But Christian shook his head. ‘The wedding plans go ahead. Nothing is to be cancelled.’
Elena stared. Surely they’d got beyond this. Christian was going to help Rob. There was nothing to fear now. Surely there was no need to pretend any more.
Unless it wasn’t pretend.
What if he really wanted marriage?
What if, like her, Christian had fallen in love?
The thought no sooner surfaced than she dashed it, telling herself flights of fancy wouldn’t help, no matter how much she wanted them to be true.
Yet, peering up into Christian’s shadowed face, Elena couldn’t help but wonder.
A knock sounded at the bedroom door. ‘Excuse me, sir.’ It was Christian’s housekeeper. ‘There’s an urgent call for you.’
‘I’ll be there in a moment.’ Christian’s eyes didn’t leave Elena’s. When the footsteps retreated he spoke again, his eyes pinning her to the spot. ‘The marriage goes ahead, Elena. Don’t say anything to your father.’
* * *
Christian paced the study, the phone to his ear. He should feel triumph at this latest news. Soon Morrison’s business, his finances and his reputation would be non-existent.
‘Excellent. You’ve done well bringing it together.’ Yet the words ground hoarsely from Christian’s constricted larynx. He felt winded, like that time in prison when he’d been ambushed and only just deflected a lethal punch to the throat.
Gone was his laser-sharp focus on retribution and Morrison’s downfall. Only dimly did he hear the rest of his manager’s report. Christian’s mind was on Elena.
Beautiful, glowing Elena, breathtaking in that fairy tale dress. Like a princess waiting at the altar for Prince Charming to sweep her away to their happily ever after.
Christian yanked open another button on his shirt, trying to ease the tightness in his throat.
Seeing Elena in her finery, he’d been torn between wanting to claim her and the knowledge he couldn’t be the man for her. The chasm between them had never been more obvious.
He’d never contemplated taking a bride. Those everyday dreams most of the population shared—someone to love, to build a life and family with—those had never been his. They had always been the stuff of fiction, far beyond the reach of someone like him. He’d never let himself expect anything so temptingly, wonderfully ordinary.
Oh, he could have taken a wife. But the women he’d known hadn’t been the sort to spend a lifetime with.
Not like Elena.
His mind blurred as realisation hit.