All trust in both Don Juan and herself to keep themselves restrained had been broken by their stunt down the hill. She was rarely left alone long enough to relieve herself at functions, never mind have a stolen moment with her soon to be husband. They had an aunt or grandmother or sister or someone poised and ready to follow her whenever she left a room. And - worst of all - they even had her younger sister, Josefina, sleeping in her bed alongside her.

There would be no more kisses, no more hand holding, nothing to bring her chastity - or the family's reputation - into question before the wedding.

Thankfully, she had the preparations to distract herself from how much she longed to kiss him once more. They'd begun to receive the wedding invitations back last week and, much to her continued chagrin, there was still no mention of his family's attendance. It went against her culture for him to be wed without the support of his family. His parents were meant to be there, his siblings, the whole host of them. What was a wedding if not the blending of families?

"Of course they are coming," Valencia insisted. That he was so nonchalant about it bewildered her. "It is your wedding as well, they ought to be here. Your mother at the very least."

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