‘But then I’ll miss the pleasure of seeing your reaction to my wedding lingerie.’
‘Is it sexy?’
‘Verysexy.’ She lowered her voice. ‘I’m still debating whether to bother with the knickers.’
His groan was louder.
‘And with that thought, I shall bid you good-night.’
‘You’re saying goodbye to me now, when you’ve just made me hard?’
‘Have I?’ she asked innocently.
‘You know you have, you tease.’
Her voice lowered even further. ‘Remember how we used to have video sex?’
‘You’re trying to kill me.’
She laughed huskily. ‘Beunas noches, Xavi. Sweet dreams.’
‘Beunas noches, mi vida.Dream of me.’
There was a long passage of silence before she softly said, ‘Always.’
She disconnected the call.
His heart as swollen as his cock, Xavi threw his head back and laughed.
Beth put her phone back in her bag, rested her hand against her thumping heart and willed the burn between her legs to ease enough to enable her to walk back into the hotel bar without anyone wondering what was wrong with her.
For a few beautiful moments, it had felt like she’d slipped back in time to an age when her love and desire for Xavi had been the purest emotions on this earth.
‘Beth!’
She looked at her grandmother, who was half hanging off her stool. Her grandfather was hovering protectively close by. His bemused yet indulgent expression suggested this wasn’t the first time he’d seen his wife let her hair down like this, and she felt such a wave of tenderness for them it was almost a physical pain. In their quiet way, they’d taken real, loving care of her when she’d returned to England after Xavi and the baby. They hadn’t asked her any questions, just given her the unconditional support and love she’d needed to pick herself up. Her father had been the same, and it was this loving support that had allowed her to put his lies about her mother’s family behind her. All three of them had rallied around, and when she’d announced she was moving to Manchester, they’d rallied again to help her.
Their lack of surprise at her sudden announcement years later that she would be marrying Xavi was something she chose not to think about.
What was harder not to think about was the growing ache in her heart for their marriage to be real.
The ache was a ghost from her past, a ghost of the young woman who’d loved him with the whole of her heart and had been loved back with what she’d believed to be the whole of Xavi’s heart.
Xavi had to hold himself still. He wanted to pace the cathedral, preferably by the entrance so he could assure himself of his bride’s arrival.
The cathedral was packed. Outside, the press had gathered en masse. The wedding of the century was minutes away. All they needed was the bride.
He checked his watch again. She was now officially late.
‘Your grandmother was fifteen minutes late for our wedding,’ his grandfather said with quiet knowing.
‘Yes, you said… You’re sure you have the rings?’
His grandfather patted his top pocket.
Not until he’d been deciding on a best man for himself had Xavi considered that he didn’t have a single close friend. He had friends. Lots of them. He received regular invitations to parties and nights out, some of which he accepted. But close friends? Not in years.
When had he let his social group slip away from him and become so solitary that he could think of no one to act as a natural fit to the role of best man? He’d briefly flirted with asking Carlota or Blanca to take the role but hadn’t wanted to deal with the inevitable fallout from the one not asked.
