Redeemed By His Stolen Bride. ABBY GREENЧитать онлайн книгу.
up on that dais beside Sanchez, had reminded him that there was something about her that had always snagged his attention. He’d noticed it again this evening. Enough to distract him from Lazaro Sanchez.
Her beautiful face had been composed. Revealing nothing. Her long dark hair pulled back and sleek, showing off the exquisite bone structure of her face. Wide almond-shaped eyes. Dark lashes. A full mouth that hinted at a level of sensuality Gabriel sensed she wasn’t entirely comfortable with.
He’d racked his brains to think of the last time he’d seen her. It hadn’t been recent. She’d grown up in the meantime. Now she was a woman—and a stunningly beautiful woman at that.
Gabriel had found himself staring at her, willing her to look at him, needing her to look at him. And then she had. He’d felt the impact of that contact from across the room. An instantaneous jolt of sexual awareness surging through his blood.
She’d kept on looking at Gabriel and he’d seen the flicker of panic in her eyes. Along with something else far more potent.
She wanted him.
That awareness, together with seeing Sanchez’s arm around her waist, had caught at something unexpected inside Gabriel. Something hot and visceral. A sense of…possessiveness.
When Sanchez had announced their engagement, Gabriel had felt an inexplicable and almost overwhelming urge to disrupt proceedings, but just at that moment another voice had rung out. A voice coming from the petite red-haired woman near the dais, claiming to be pregnant with Sanchez’s child.
Leonora had fled, and Gabriel had watched her go, knowing immediately that he would go after her. He’d never felt such a primal pull towards anyone.
He’d looked at Sanchez and the animosity he’d felt towards the man had compelled him to mock him for his abortive attempt to buy respectability and for bringing his domestic dramas into the public domain.
But all thoughts of Sanchez were gone now, as he looked left and right for Leonora Flores.
She was gone.
An alien sensation stopped Gabriel in his tracks and he realised it was the sensation of something having slipped through his fingers.
For a man who generally obtained his every want and desire, it was unwelcome. And an unpleasant reminder that he was acting out of character. Pursuing a woman when he didn’t need to. If he wanted a woman that badly he could walk back into the room behind him and take his pick. But a new restlessness prickled under his skin. He didn’t want one of them. So eager, so desperate. He wanted her.
And then, as if answering his silent call, he saw her, standing behind the elaborate foliage screening the lobby and entrance from the rest of the hotel. He saw what she saw: a bank of waiting paparazzi outside the main door of the hotel, and no other means of escape.
There was no way he was going to let her out of his sight again. And if the opportunity presented itself to remind Sanchez of where he belonged, Gabriel would be a fool not to exploit it.
Leonora cursed silently. Between the fronds of the exotic plant she could see where the photographers were lined up, no doubt ready to capture the smiling couple emerging from the hotel. There was no other way out without going through the lobby. One way or another they would see her, either scuttling away as if she was the one in the wrong, or walking out without her new fiancé.
Just as she was steeling herself to run the gauntlet, she felt the back of her neck prickle with awareness and her skin tingled all over.
She turned around and Gabriel Ortega Cruz y Torres was standing a couple of feet away, looking at her. She gulped. He was even taller up close. Broader. Thick dark hair swept back off his forehead. Deep-set dark eyes. Strong brows. A patrician nose and a firm, unyielding mouth.
His bottom lip was surprisingly lush, though, softening the hard edges of his face and making her wonder what it would feel like to touch…kiss… She could imagine him lounging on jewel-coloured cushions, summoning his minions.
Summoning his lovers.
A wave of heat flashed through her body. She was losing it. She never imagined kissing men. She was a twenty-four-year-old virgin, because her life had revolved around her parents, the castle and her disabled brother. She’d been more of a mother than a sister to her brother, since their world had imploded after her father’s gambling excesses. She’d literally had no time for anything else. Anything normal. Like relationships.
Before she could even think of something to say Gabriel came forward and his scent reached her nostrils, sharp and infinitely masculine. Exotic.
‘Would you like me to get you out of here?’
His voice was deep and compelling.
Leonora’s response was swift and instinctive. She nodded.
‘We’ll go out through the main entrance. Don’t look left or right, just let me guide you.’
He plucked something out of his pocket and Leonora saw that it was a phone. He issued a curt instruction and put the phone back, his eyes never leaving hers.
‘My car is outside. Let’s go.’
Before Leonora knew what was happening Gabriel Torres had taken her elbow in his hand and they were already halfway across the lobby. Flashes erupted from outside, and as soon as they got through the doors there was a barrage of noise and calls.
‘Leonora! Where’s Lazaro Sanchez?’
Leonora ignored it all and followed Gabriel’s instructions, looking straight ahead.
A sleek low-slung silver bullet of a car was parked by the kerb and the doorman sprang aside as Gabriel helped her into the front passenger seat. The door was shut, cocooning her in expensive leather and metal and blissful silence, which was only broken briefly when Gabriel came around to the driver’s side and opened the door, settling himself into the car.
Within seconds they were moving through the throng of press, who had to part to let them through. Leonora flinched at the bright flashes from their cameras as the paparazzi pressed cameras up to the window to get their shots.
‘I should have tried to leave through a back entrance. I’ll be on every front page tomorrow.’
She felt Gabriel glance at her. ‘Why should you? You’ve nothing to be ashamed of.’
Leonora’s heart was pounding. She saw Gabriel’s hand work the gearstick. Square-shaped long fingers. Short, blunt nails. Masculine.
Her lower body clenched.
‘You didn’t have to do this,’ she said.
Her voice was husky. She looked at Gabriel, whose jaw was tight.
‘It’s nothing. You shouldn’t have been thrown to the wolves like that.’
She got the impression that he was angry. On her behalf. She barely knew him. Her relief at being out of that situation was taking the edges off her own anger at Lazaro.
‘Well…thank you.’
She noticed then that they were driving through one of Madrid’s exclusive city enclaves. Leafy streets and chic cosmopolitan bars and restaurants. Expensive antique shops and designer boutiques. Elegant buildings mixed with new architecture.
Feeling embarrassed now, and thinking that Gabriel might be regretting his good deed, Leonora said, ‘You really don’t have to take me home. I’m the other way, anyway. I can jump out here and get a taxi.’
He shook his head and glanced in the rear-view mirror. ‘Not if you don’t want them to follow you home, you can’t.’
Leonora looked behind them and saw a couple of motorbikes weaving in and out of traffic, following them. Her