She froze, her hand in the bag. Slowly, she withdrew a cream lace dress. “What?”
I turned and unzipped my Easter dress to shimmy out of it. “It’s a long story, but Diego’s in danger.”
“And?”
“And a wedding will get him out of it.” I reached for the bridal gown. “Hand me that.”
“Get him out?” she asked, handing me the slinky lace. “Or bring you in?”
I waved a hand. “We have a plan.”
“Natalia . . .” She made a noise akin to a whimper. “It’s just, I know how important marriage is to you, and that you’ve dreamed of having a beautiful ceremony with all of your family there. You can’t do it as part of a plan.”
I stepped into the long dress and slipped my arms into its full sleeves. “I want to marry him,” I said, walking over to take her hands. “It’s not just a plan. If it works, I’ll save Diego. If it doesn’t . . .”
Pilar paled. “What?”
Then at least Diego and I would have this day together.
Heaviness weighed on my chest. I didn’t want today to be anything other than perfect, though. I took a cleansing breath and forced the thought away with a smile. “I’ll be Diego’s wife, Pila, and our two families combined will be too powerful to challenge.”
She frowned. “Exactly what kind of danger is he in?”
My body tightened, but I focused on survival. I needed to keep positive thoughts and prayers for all of us. I drew my hair over one shoulder and turned, then frowned at the black strappy heels on my feet. “Damn. I forgot to bring my silver shoes. Will you do me up?”
“Where’d you even find a gown this late?” she asked, moving behind me to start with the bottom button.
“It was my mother’s.” I admired the dress in the mirror. The high-necked ivory bodice was fitted but not tight, and the lace around my neck was intricately crafted. The dress had buttons all the way from my lower back to my nape.
“Costa doesn’t mind that you’re wearing this?”
“He doesn’t know. I had to sneak the dress out.”
Pilar touched her forehead. “Dios mío, if Costa finds out I helped, he’ll put me in the grave.”
“Don’t worry. You’ll be the last thing on his mind. He’ll be either too relieved to care, or he’ll kill Diego—which I hope he doesn’t, because we’re going through a lot of trouble to keep him safe from the Maldonados.”
“The Maldonados?” She muttered something and made the sign of the cross. “That’s who he’s in trouble with?”
“Sí. It’s scary, I know. That’s why we have to go to extreme lengths.”
“Hopefully they involve una bruja. He’ll need black magic to immortalize himself if he has upset them. Or to resurrect him from the grave.”
When she’d done the last button, I turned in the mirror. The dress just grazed the tops of my heels. I frowned. “It’s too short.”
Pilar squatted to inspect the hem. “I can let it out quickly. It won’t be perfect, but because of the lace, you won’t be able to tell much.”
Pilar got a sewing kit from my bag, squatted at my feet with a seam ripper and did her best to lengthen it. “You won’t miss having Costa walk you down the aisle?” she asked.
I didn’t have to consider my answer. I would, of course. The thought of it had been plaguing me for days. “Yes,” I admitted. “But once Diego and I are safe and everything is as it should be, we’ll have a real wedding and a huge celebration, hopefully in California.” I could envision it perfectly, a cliffside resort where we could have an outdoor ceremony in late summer as the sun set on the water, then a reception on a dancefloor strung with lights. “You can be my maid of honor. I’ll throw you the bouquet so I can set you up with a handsome American.”
“A gringo?” she asked, incredulous.
“Bueno, un chicano.”
She smiled a little. “What about Manu?”
“You’re too good for him,” I said, but I knew there was slim chance of getting Pilar out of the marriage her parents were hell-bent on arranging.
She waggled her dark eyebrows as she tugged on the lace. “Are you ready for your wedding night?”
I failed to suppress my smile. I shouldn’t tell Pilar what Diego and I had done, but I was too giddy. “We already had it.”
Her mouth fell open. “¿En serio? Really?”
I nodded hard. “Friday night, he stayed with me.”
Her eyes widened. She lowered her voice. “At your dad’s house? How was it?”
“Magical. He was such a gentleman, and made sure I enjoyed every second.” I searched her face for judgment. When she didn’t respond, I continued, “People say your first time is bad, but it didn’t hurt at all.”
“Well, that’s the most you can ask for.”
I agreed. There was a great deal of passion between Diego and me that we hadn’t even explored because he’d been holding back so as not to hurt me. I could only imagine that next time, we’d be tearing off each other’s clothes like animals. “It was perfect.”