The Valquez Bride. Melanie Milburne

press. They can be ferocious. I’ll do my best to protect you, but there will be times when you’ll just have to ignore what they say.’

      Teddy wondered if he was concerned about her or himself. Why would he care what the press said about her? Once the six months was up she would be out of his life. He wouldn’t have to spare her another thought. It would be his reputation he would be most concerned about. What would the press make of his choice of bride? Would comparisons be made? Of course they would and she would be found lacking in every way imaginable. ‘I hope I don’t cause you any unnecessary embarrassment.’

      His frown deepened the trench between his eyes. ‘In what way?’

      She forced herself to hold his gaze without flinching. Could he see how much it pained her to be thought so undesirable? So unattractive her father had to go to such ridiculous—insulting—lengths to secure a husband for her? It was so demeaning to be handed over like a parcel no one wanted. It confirmed every fear she had harboured about herself since her mother had left when she was seven. She wasn’t good enough, pretty enough. Lovable enough. ‘I’m nothing like your last choice of bride.’

      He was still looking at her with a frowning expression. ‘So?’

      ‘So they’ll wonder what you see in me.’

      Something passed over his features, a tiny flicker of an emotion she couldn’t quite identify. ‘It’s not your limp that was the first thing I noticed about you. It’s that chip on your shoulder.’

      Teddy sent him a hardened look. ‘Why wouldn’t I have a chip on my shoulder? Men like you and your brother make it easy to be cynical. You only date women who look perfect. You don’t even notice women like me.’

      He stood looking at her for a long moment. She wished she hadn’t spoken. She wished she hadn’t exposed her insecurities. She wished she didn’t feel so inadequate. If she had poise and sophistication she would marry him without a qualm. Most women would snatch at the chance to be linked to him for six minutes, let alone six months. He was the ultimate prize—rich and handsome and charming.

      But he was someone else’s prize. Not hers. Girls like her didn’t get the prize. They didn’t get the guy. They didn’t get the fairy tale. They didn’t even get the poisoned apple or the big bad wolf. They were left alone.

      ‘There will be legal paperwork to see to before we are married,’ he said as if the tense moment had not occurred. ‘A celebrant will perform the ceremony in private. I don’t want any press around. We will announce our marriage as a fait accompli.’

      ‘What if I want a big white wedding with all the trimmings?’ She only asked it to get under his skin and it worked.

      The tic in his jaw was visible for a beat or two. ‘Do you?’

      Yes. Teddy thought of her mother’s dress and veil wrapped in layers of blue tissue paper in the camphor chest in the attic. How many times had she climbed those stairs when no one was around and opened that chest to touch the French lace and the voluminous veil? Breathing in the faint trace of her mother’s perfume that somehow, after all these years, still lingered on the fabric, like dreams that weren’t yet ready to be discarded.

      Teddy closed the lid on her dreams, the metaphorical slam of it feeling like a bang against her heart. ‘No, but I’m just say—’

      ‘Many couples save themselves the time and effort and expense of a wedding by eloping. The goal is to get married. Not to entertain a crowd of people you’ve never met or barely know and will likely never see again.’

      She couldn’t quite let it go. ‘That’s not what you thought ten years ago.’

      His eyes held hers in a heated lock that made the back of her neck prickle. ‘My people will speak to your people.’ He gave her a brisk nod. ‘Buenas tardes.’