LITMIR.BIZ

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was a business deal and nothing more. She could never allow it to be more.

      She dragged her gaze from the sparkling sea and turned to face him. He too had changed. He’d washed away the hours spent travelling and stood before her looking more relaxed then she’d seen him before. She couldn’t help herself and allowed her gaze to linger, to take in the latent strength of his body as he walked across the room to the doors of the terrace. The commanding strength he exuded excited her and terrified her at the same time.

      ‘Would that be to keep up the pretence of an affair?’ The words slipped from her mouth with practised ease, the facetious tone one she regularly used. ‘It’s obvious now why we are here.’

      ‘Is it?’

      Damn him, he appeared to be laughing at her. His new, relaxed mood made him smile at her prickly demeanour. It was as if he was genuinely flirting with her, teasing her as he might one of his lovers.

      ‘Of course it is. This area is a playground for the rich and famous, and with them come photographers and journalists, all waiting to catch the next big story. I saw them taking photos as we arrived.’

      She took a deep breath and forced herself to stop talking. Allowing Santos to see how he unnerved her wasn’t going to do any good at all. If he wanted to parade her around as part of the pretence then so be it.

      ‘For a woman who dreamt up this whole idea you’re very touchy about it.’

      He walked out onto the terrace, where he leant his strong arms on the balustrade. Briefly she remembered how it had felt to be held in their strength, but immediately she dragged her wandering mind back. She had to keep focused. It was almost as if he knew he was distracting her. She was convinced he was using it to his advantage.

      ‘I didn’t dream this up.’ She flung her hands wide, gesturing around them, and pushed to the back of her mind the terms he’d agreed on, hoping it would never have to go that far. ‘It’s you who took the idea from marriage in name only to this—this pretend love affair.’

      He turned back to face her and folded his arms across his chest, the sun behind him making it difficult to read his expression. ‘This is the best way.’

      ‘Best for who?’

      She realised she’d never questioned his motivation for changing things. She’d been so desperate to achieve her aims she hadn’t given it a thought. Yes, she knew he wanted the business—that much Emma had told her—but why would such a wealthy and successful man, who had women falling at his feet, agree so easily to her proposition of marriage?

      ‘It doesn’t matter who it’s best for. Once we are married your sister can marry Carlo and you will have got what you wanted.’

      ‘Not forgetting what you want. You will inherit the business, then we can both get on with our lives. As if this had never happened.’ She kept her words firm, as if she believed wholeheartedly in what she was doing. One thing she would never do was let him know her doubts.

      The clinking of ice in glasses halted further conversation as drinks were brought out to them. She watched as a petite Spanish girl placed the tray on the table before she slipped away, seeming to melt into the background.

      ‘Exactamente, querida.’

      He turned to face her as he spoke and a shiver of apprehension slipped over her.

      ‘It all seems too easy, Santos,’ she said, realising she’d used his name without having to force herself. ‘I can’t believe a man like you would agree to my deal so easily. There must be something more in it for you.’

      He moved away from the balustrade and came close to her. Too close. Her first reaction was to step back, but she stood her ground and met his gaze head-on, despite the pounding of her heart and the race of her pulse. Something in his expression had changed. He looked more intense, his eyes darker. She couldn’t help but look into them and momentarily floundered.

      ‘Yes, there is, querida.’

      He stepped closer and the air seemed alive with something she’d never experienced before.

      ‘And that is?’ She feigned bravado, her words short and sharp.

      ‘I want what we agreed in my office. A wife.’

      He was serious, and from the resolute set of his mouth she knew he wasn’t going to change his mind any time soon. ‘We don’t need to make this marriage any more difficult to get out of than need be,’ she said

      ‘I have no intention of getting out of it, Georgina. I want a real wife—not someone joined to me just because we signed the same bit of paper.’

      His gaze dropped from her eyes and lingered on her lips and she realised she was biting her bottom lip. The tension of waiting to hear what he really wanted was too much. As was his proximity. Her stomach fluttered wildly and she had to concentrate hard just to breathe.

      ‘But why me?’ She moved backwards, but still the sizzle was there. She could feel it with every pore of her skin. He’s just trying to throw you off balance, she assured herself, and asked again. ‘Why me, Santos? Why now?’

      ‘Because you’re the only woman who’s asked me to marry them at a time when I need to be married.’

      When I need to be married.

      Those words rang inside her head like a cathedral choir. He didn’t want to be married either, and she clung to the hope that she could persuade him later that separation was the best option.

      Images of being with Santos, of spending days and nights with him, filled her mind. She became dizzy at the thought of what the nights would entail. Why did he want her in that way when he could have any one of the glamorous women who always seemed to be in his life?

      * * *

      Santos watched as an array of emotions flashed across her beautiful face. She might well have asked him to marry her, but he could see the idea of a real marriage unsettled her as much as it did him. Marriage was something he’d never wanted to enter into. He hated that he was being forced to marry by his father’s ridiculous clause in his will. As a child he’d witnessed the destructive side of marriage—a side he knew lurked beneath every claim of love.

      Love. He knew it didn’t exist. It was a false and misleading emotion that could destroy any man, woman or child. It was open for exploitation. Never would he allow any woman close enough to manipulate him. Marrying Georgina was a necessity, nothing more.

      ‘Lucky I asked when I did,’ she said, and flashed a smile at him. But sadness clouded her eyes.

      Was she thinking of her first husband? Had she loved him? Had he been manipulated just as easily? Fool, he told himself, fighting back irrational emotions that were completely alien to him. Don’t even go there.

      ‘Lucky for who, querida?’ He couldn’t resist the urge to provoke her, wanting to see those soft brown eyes spark with passionate fire, as they had done the very first time he’d seen her in his office.

      She raised her brows at him. ‘For you. I could have just encouraged Emma and Carlo to slip off and get married without anyone knowing. So I suppose you have the most to lose, Santos, and you have the most at stake.’

      His name sounded hard on her lips, fierce. He wanted to go over to her and kiss them until they softened, until every last drop of restraint disappeared. Instead he focused his mind, because if one thing was true it was the fact that he did have the most to lose.

      But he’d never admit that.

      ‘We both have things at stake, Georgina.’ Impatience crept into his voice. ‘So I have had a mutually beneficial agreement drawn up.’

      ‘Ah, the pre-nup.’ She picked up her drink, ice clinking, and took a sip, all the while maintaining eye contact with him. ‘I’ll sign whatever is needed. I made that clear when I first put the proposition to you.’

      ‘In that case, now would be

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