Taken by the Highest Bidder
“Okay.” Gabby swung her legs, back and forth, while she looked past Sam to her pretty dress lying on the foot of the bed. “I knew he was going to come for us, didn’t you?”
Sam felt the oddest sensation—half joy, half pain. “What do you mean?”
Gabby leaned forward to gently set her cup back in the saucer, taking great pains not to spill. “I always knew Cristiano would come. Didn’t you?”
“No.” Sam hesitated, nonplussed. “How did you know?”
“My angel.”
Goose bumps covered Sam’s arms. “You have an angel?”
“Yes. And so do you. Our angels are friends and do everything together and they knew since my mommy died, you’d be a good new mommy for me.”
“Oh, Gabby—”
“I have a really good angel, too. Do you know who it is?”
Sam had never heard anything like this in her life. “Who?”
“My real dad. Enzo.”
Blinking, Sam found herself wishing Cristiano were here.
“He died right before I was born so it makes sense,” Gabby continued, sliding forward on her chair to reach for one of the miniature cakes frosted in pink and white icing. “Who do you think your angel is?”
“I haven’t a clue.”
“I think I know.”
Sam was beginning to think this child was either brilliant or crazy. “Who?”
“Your Charles.” Gabby looked up at her, and her expression shifted between fear and defiance. “And you can’t cry anymore. He doesn’t want you to cry. You’re supposed to be happy now.”
This was the oddest conversation to be having before a wedding, Sam thought. This was a conversation better suited to strong drink than strong black tea. “I had no idea you talked to angels this much.”
“I talk to them a little bit. They talk to me more.”
“And what do they say?” she asked carefully.
“That everything is going to be okay.”
Surprised by the sudden welling of emotion, Sam bit her lip and realized that Gabriela had suffered far more than she let on, that the little girl had so many hopes and dreams and needs of her own.
Slipping off the chair, Gabby stripped off her robe. “Can we get dressed now?”
“Definitely,” Sam answered, rising to help Gabby into her white organza dress.
While Gabby sat on the carpet to put her stockings and shoes on, Sam stepped into her own gown. It wasn’t a dress Sam would have ever chosen for herself, the silk fabric the color of soft powdery sand, and the bronze bow a bit too much, but surprisingly when Sam tried the gown on in the bridal store, Sam loved it.
The gown was sleeveless, and the lace-crusted bodice clung to her breasts, shaped her waist and the full skirt fell in a romantic swirl of the palest, softest gold. Even the bronze silk bow, childish on the hanger, looked fresh and pretty when tied off-center.
Sam was so tempted to twirl in front of her bedroom mirror just to watch the fabric shimmer in the afternoon sun. The gown was beautifully cut but she loved the color best, loved the way the iridescent silk reminded her of water rushing over sand.
It was the perfect dress for Cap Ferrat, the perfect dress for being married privately in the villa’s garden overlooking the sea.
Dressed, Sam combed Gabriela’s curls, pinning some up, leaving others down until Gabriela looked like the princess she’d always wanted to be. And Sam, looking at her reflection in the mirror, thought simple was best and drew her long hair into a loose knot at her nape, before softening the style by pulling a few tendrils out. A little makeup, just a touch, and then pale gold shoes and gold and pearl chandelier earrings on her ears and she was ready.
Then just as Sam turned away from the mirror, a whoosh of air danced across the room. Both Sam and Gabby turned toward the balcony’s open doors. A breeze was blowing the curtains at the windows and the white silky sheers fluttered.
“There they go,” Gabby said, turning to Sam. “Our angels rushing through the sky.”
And as the sheers fluttered again, Sam could almost picture Gabby’s angels hurrying through the night.
Cristiano met them in the garden on the point. Wearing a classic black dinner jacket and slacks with an elegant white dress shirt, he looked gorgeous, and relaxed. But it was more than relaxed, Sam thought, taking Gabby’s hand as they approached Cristiano and the officiate. He looked…happy.