Retaining His Bride (A Completed Novella)

Chapter 6

Enrique knew there was only a wall between his bedroom in the pool-house guest apartment and the room Clio was sharing with Sophie. It was a thought that tortured him. He imagined her lying alone in her bed, her blonde hair spread out on the pillow.

Was she thinking about him? Remembering when they’d shared the same bed? He tossed and turned with frustration that the woman he’d never been able to forget was so near yet he couldn’t be with her.

He lay sprawled on his back and watched the moonlit reflection from the blue ripples of the swimming pool dancing on the ceiling. He struggled to understand the unfamiliar emotion coursing through him. But as he drifted off to sleep he realised what it was—a relaxing of the protective angst he had built up over the last fifteen years. It was a sense of contentment that he would wake up in the morning and Clio would be there—real Clio, not a fleeting memory of a dream. Just to know she was close by was enough. For now anyway.

*

His day started very early. Hers had started even earlier—as he got up, she was on her way out, perfectly groomed in skinny black trousers and a short fitted jacket. She waved, told him where breakfast was and headed for the main house. Then she turned back and their gazes locked for a long, still moment. The slow smile that lit her green eyes acknowledged that there was still something powerful between them. Something they had very little time to deal with. Something he had a second chance to get right.

But it was a working day for both of them. The trend in wedding photography was to document practically every minute of the “big day.” He excelled in the informal, catching intimate angles of the bridesmaids with the bride, the bride with her mother, the bride looking pensive. But his eye and his lens were always seeking Clio. Wherever he could, he captured candid shots of her. When she became aware of what he was doing, she’d put her hand up to her face, laughing her protest—so beautiful she made his heart ache. By the time of the actual ceremony, he reckoned he had nearly as many frames of Clio as he did the bride. And to him she outshone the bride in every shot.

As he observed her, he was awestruck by her seemingly effortless efficiency in drawing all threads of the wedding together. It wasn’t until they were in the church and he saw her seated on the bride’s side with the other guests that he wondered why her parents weren’t there.

*

Clio knew she wasn’t really off-duty until the bride and groom left for their honeymoon and the guests all departed. But once the speeches were done, the meal finished and the bride and groom had danced the first waltz she felt she could finally relax. The family was thrilled with her efforts, but she hoped she would never have to organise a wedding again.

She was moving away from one of the guests when she became aware of Enrique by her side. Not that she hadn’t been intensely aware of him all day.

“Well done,” he said. “Everyone is saying what a wonderful wedding this is—thanks to you.”

“And my staff. It’s a team effort.”

“But a team is only as good as its leader,” he said. “And you’re very good at your job.”

“Don’t say that too loudly,” she said. “Two guests have already tried to book my services as a wedding planner. I don’t want to take on any more weddings. I hate weddings.”

His dark eyebrows rose. “Hate is a strong word.”

“It’s how I feel. I…I think you might guess why.”