Page 87 of Raul
“Less and less all the time,” Gabriel said.
The singing ceased, and a momentary stillness fell in the great cathedral. A young man in flowing church robes appeared and gestured for them to follow him.
Raul stopped Gabriel and scanned the face that looked so like his own with its slashing brows, sharp cheekbones, and straight blade of a nose. Today, his cousin’s expression was of radiant happiness. “You and Quinn are perfect for each other,” Raul said, his smile one hundred percent genuine now. “I wish you joy for the rest of your lives.”
“Gracias, hermano.”Gabriel gripped him in a brief but powerful hug. “You’ll find your own joy soon. I know it.”
Which sliced like a sword through Raul since he had just pushed that joy away.
“I hope I’m as lucky as you,” Raul said, fighting the pain of his loss.
While Raul paced side by side with Gabriel out into the soaring stone nave of the cathedral, he concentrated on keeping his stride even. The doctor had wrapped his ankle tightly, but it still twinged when he put his full weight on it. Too bad. He was not going to limp.
They took their place in front of the altar and turned to look out into the long nave with its soaring stone arches. All the VIPs of Caleva and many dignitaries from overseas created a rippling sea of color in the fully packed church. Only the long center aisle with its Calevan green runner stood open and empty.
A bright, lilting melody spilled out of the organ.
“That’s the interlude,” Gabriel murmured. “Quinn should be coming through the door soon.”
Raul glanced at the closest wedding guests and smiled at his new stepmother, Eve, who was easy to spot with her flaming-red hair. Seated next to her were Gabriel’s parents, the Duke and Duchess of Bruma. Beside them sat Quinn’s mother, stepfather, and half brothers, also newfound. It brought Raul’s father joy to have the family expand.
Quinn’s father had elected to watch the wedding from a private balcony in the transept so the media could not focus on him and his very murky past. Raul gave the man credit for not wanting to sully his daughter’s wedding day.
The organ fell silent again. The scent ofvahohibiscus wafted from the banks of flowers decorating the vast space as the huge bronze doors at the other end of the nave opened. Brilliant sunlight reached into the cathedral, and two figures appeared silhouetted in the doorway.
“Quinn,” Gabriel breathed, his voice soft with adoration as the entire congregation rose to their feet in a wave.
Raul glanced sideways to see the love illuminating his cousin’s face, and his heart overflowed for Gabriel.
Then trumpets, timpani, and organ burst into a triumphant fanfare, and the two figures stepped onto the green runner.
One was his father, dressed in a uniform that matched Gabriel’s but had extra embellishments…because he was the king. Luis paced slowly down the carpet, his silver-gray hair and beard catching jeweled colors from the stained glass windows as he moved.
Their arms linked, Quinn walked beside him, looking exquisite in a white lace gown that Raul knew had Gabriel’s music embroidered on it. She wore a glittering tiara from Castillo Draconago’s vault, and her brown hair was pulled back from her face to fall in loose curls over her shoulders. What struck Raul the most was the lack of Quinn’s trademark black-rimmed glasses. Gabriel had mentioned she would be—reluctantly—wearing contact lenses. Without the mask of her big lenses, she looked younger and more vulnerable…and nervous.
Her long train and veil were watched over by her two attendants, Raul’s half sister, Grace, nowPrincessa del Vaho, and Mikel Silva’s teenage daughter, Serena, both dressed in long, pale green gowns.
The king tilted his head to say something to Quinn, making her look up at him with a brief smile before she focused her gaze forward again. His father was probably trying to help her relax about the long, solemn walk to the altar.
As Quinn and the king passed the assembled family, Quinn managed nervous smiles and nods, but she kept moving inexorably forward.
Raul caught the moment that Quinn’s gaze locked on Gabriel. Her face lit up with the same intensity of love that Gabriel’sshowed. As the king kissed her on both cheeks and passed her hand to Gabriel, her nervousness seemed to evaporate like fog in sunlight. Holding Gabriel’s hand, she stepped toward the waiting priest with total confidence that this was where she should be.
“You are a very lucky man,hermano,” Raul murmured to himself as he slipped the rings out of his pocket in readiness for the wedding vows.
Erica lifted the shimmering bronze folds of her gown’s long skirt in one hand as she started up the worn stone stairs of the entrance to the palace’s grand ballroom. She wore high-heeled black sandals with narrow straps that glinted with bronze studs. Faceted jet earrings dangled from her earlobes, and matching jet bangles sparkled on one wrist.
She had spent a small fortune on her ensemble. It was a huge honor to be invited to the reception following Quinn and Gabriel’s wedding, but that wasn’t why she had rejected her original dress and gone out shopping again.
This outfit was to show Raul what he was missing.
The dress managed to reek of sexiness without being inappropriate for a royal occasion. The fluid fabric formed a collar that draped over one shoulder and then slid off the other one just enough to make a sleeve. Then it wrapped in sensual folds around her torso, gathering to the side of her waist. From there, the skirt fell straight to the floor, the overlapping fabric revealing the slit only when she walked. To add to the temptress effect, she had styled her hair in loose waves that cascaded over her mostly bare shoulders.
She nodded and smiled as one of the guards in fancy dress uniforms opened the carved oak door for her. Her ID had already been checked at the palace gate, so all she had to do was walk in.
As a staff member, she had been advised to skip the receiving line, which suited her fine. While the VIP guests turned left, she turned right and slipped into the ballroom, where the hum of voices twined with the rippling notes of a string ensemble. A server in the green livery of the palace approached her with a silver tray of champagne flutes and asked her what other beverage she might like to drink.
No bellying up to the bar at this reception. She took the champagne and scanned the enormous room. The men wore tuxedoes, white tie, ceremonial uniforms, or flowing robes, while the women dazzled in multihued ball gowns with glittering jewels that made her jet ensemble look like discount-store trash. She sighed. Why did she think she could compete with the designer gowns and inherited family wealth that a royal wedding brought forth?
