‘As most of you know, Rafael de Cervantes was supposed to present this award to Toby this evening. Instead he’s skiving off somewhere in sunny Spain.’
Laughter echoed through the room.
‘No, seriously, just as Toby said a prayer before rushing into his burning home to save his little sister and brother, so we should all take a moment to say a prayer for Rafael’s speedy recovery. Toby fought for his family to live. Not once did he give up. Even when the rescuers told him there was no hope for his little brother he ignored them and rescued him. Why? Because he’d promised his mother he’d take care of his siblings. And he never once wavered from that promise. There are lessons for all of us in Toby’s story. And that’s never to give up. No matter how small or big your dreams, no matter how tough or impossible the way forward seems, never give up. I’m delighted to present this award to Toby Latham, for his outstanding bravery against all odds.’
Sasha’s voice broke on the last words. Although she tried to hide it, Marco caught the strain in her face and the pain behind her smile even as thunderous applause broke out in the ballroom.
Automatically Marco followed suit, but inside ice clenched his heart, squeezing until he couldn’t breathe. It was always like this when he allowed himself to remember what Angelique had taken from him. What his weakness had cost him. He’d failed to take care of his own.
Never again, he vowed silently.
Sasha stepped down from the stage and made her way back to her seat. Despite the rushing surge of memories, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. In fact he wanted to jump up, grab her hand and lead her away from the ballroom.
She reached the table and smiled at him. ‘Thank God I didn’t fall on my face.’
Sliding gracefully into the seat, she tucked her hair behind one ear. In that moment Marco, struggling to breathe and damning himself to hell, knew he craved her.
Impossibly. Desperately.
* * *
Sasha caught the expression on Marco’s face and her heart stopped.
‘What’s the matter? Oh, my God, if you tell me I have food caught in my teeth I’ll kill you!’ she vowed feverishly.
Desperately blinking back the threatening tears, she tried to stem the painful memories that looking into Toby Latham’s face had brought. She couldn’t afford to let Marco see her pain. The pain she’d let eat her alive, consume her for years, but had never been able to put to rest.
She heard sniggers from across the table but ignored them, her attention held hostage by the savagely intense look in Marco’s eyes.
‘Your teeth are fine,’ he replied in a deep, rough voice.
‘Then what? Was my speech that bad?’ Caught in the traumatising resurgence of painful memories, she’d discarded her carefully prepared notes and winged it.
‘No. Your speech was...perfecto.’
Her heart lurched at his small pause. Before she could question him about it the MC introduced the next guest. With no choice but to maintain a respectful silence, she folded her shaking hands in her lap.
Frantically, she tried to recall her speech word for word. Marco was obviously reacting to something she’d said. Had she been wrong to mention Rafael? Had her joke been too crass? A wave of shame engulfed her at the thought.
She waited until the next award had been presented, then leaned over. ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered into his ear.
His head swivelled towards her. His jaw brushed her cheek, sending a thousand tiny electric currents racing through her.
‘What for?’ he asked.
‘I shouldn’t have made that crack about Rafael skiving off. It was tasteless—’
‘And exactly what Rafael himself would’ve done had the situation been reversed. Everyone’s been skirting around the subject, either pretending it’s not happening or treating it with kid gloves. You gave people the freedom to acknowledge what had happened and set them at ease. I’m no longer the object of pitying glances and whispered speculation. It is I who should be thanking you.’
‘Really?’
‘Sí,’ he affirmed, his gaze dropping to her mouth.
‘Then why did you look so...off?’
His eyes darkened. ‘Your words were powerful. I was touched. I’m not made of stone, Sasha, contrary to what you might think.’
The reproach in his voice shamed her.
‘Oh, I’m sorry. It’s just... I thought...’
‘Forget it.’
He gave a tight smile, turned away and addressed Sophia, who flashed even more of her cleavage in triumph.
As soon as the last award was given, Sophia turned to Marco. ‘We’re going clubbing.’ She named an exclusive club frequented by young royals. ‘We’d love you to join us, Marco,’ she gushed.