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querida.’

      She opened the door of the wardrobe, assessed the contents, then opted for a cream silk dressing gown. She slipped it on and pulled it tight around her, knotting the belt at her stomach. The garment should have doused the fire now raging in his body, but it didn’t. The outline of her body, still clearly visible, was more teasing than seeing her naked.

      ‘Come here.’ His voice was gruff and husky as desire pumped through him.

      Instantly she looked shy, a blush creeping over her face, and he wondered which was the act. The bravado he saw more often or the innocent shyness she now displayed.

      Slowly she walked towards the bed, her eyes darkening, remaining locked with his. He reached towards her, grabbed her hand and pulled her down to the bed.

      ‘Santos!’ she gasped in shock. ‘What are you doing?’

      ‘I would have thought that was obvious, querida.’ As she lay beside him on the bed, her breathing faster, her breasts rising and falling in the most erotic way, he pulled the belt undone and pushed aside the silk, exposing her delicious body. ‘I’m going to make love to my wife.’

      Those words lit a raging fire inside him.

      Unable to analyse those feelings now, he silenced her with a kiss so hard and deep he almost couldn’t breathe. His need for her was far greater than last night—as if now he’d tasted her he needed more, like some kind of addict. Her hands explored his body, pushing aside the sheet and touching him until he couldn’t stand it any longer. Urgently he pushed her back against the bed, covering her body with his as he thrust hard and deep within her delicious warmth.

      It was as if his whole world rocked as he climaxed, relishing the feeling of being deep inside her. She cried out, her body arching towards him as she too found release. As his heartrate slowed and his mind regained the ability to think he realised he’d done the one thing he’d never done before. Early-morning sex. It gave women the wrong message. Made them think he wanted more.

      But Georgina was already his wife. What more could she want from him?

      He lay back, exhausted and exhilarated at the same time, his breathing and heart-rate finally returning to normal, and contemplated what had happened. Because something had changed, but he just couldn’t understand what.

      * * *

      ‘I’ll just go and shower.’ More vulnerable than ever, Georgina wanted to put a little distance between herself and this man’s magnetism.

      ‘Don’t be too long, querida.’ He smiled at her, sending her senses into a spin as her heart flipped over.

      Instead of answering him, she slipped from the bed with a bold teasing smile, grabbed her abandoned dressing gown and headed for the bathroom.

      How on earth was she going to cope with today after what they’d shared last night? Would his rule of no pretence continue into the first day of their married life, or would he return to being the arrogant and controlling man she knew he was?

      The hot water of the shower did little to ease her worries and she knew she had to talk to Emma. Just to hear her sister’s voice would reaffirm why she’d married Santos.

      With a towel wrapped round her body she emerged from the bathroom to find the bedroom empty. Quickly she reached into the wardrobe for her bag and pulled out her phone to see Emma had sent her a message.

      OMG Georgie! You and Santos!

      As she read the text from her sister she could almost hear her voice, the laughter in it—relief, even—and quickly she called Emma.

      ‘Georgie!’ Emma’s excited voice was so vibrant it was as if it was on loudspeaker.

      ‘Emma, I so wish you could be here, but...’ Georgina swallowed. The first lie was about to leave her lips. ‘We just had to get away and be alone.’

      ‘You’re really happy?’

      ‘Do you think I’d jet off to Spain if not? After all that I’ve been through?’ Thoughts of Richard mixed with the lies she was telling, the web of deceit she was spinning. It’s for Emma, she reassured herself.

      ‘Then I’m happy for you—but can you do one thing for me?’

      ‘Anything for you, Emma.’ That at least was true.

      ‘Don’t come back just yet. Carlo and I... Well, we’re going to arrange our wedding, and if Santos finds out he’s sure to put a stop to it. He’s so against us getting married.’

      Georgina swallowed hard. She should tell Emma. Instead she lightened her voice. ‘We’re enjoying our time together.’ Was that a lie? she wondered as her body warmed at the memory of last night—her wedding night. ‘Do you really think we’re going to rush back to London?’

      As she ended the call she let out a big sigh—relief that her sister and Carlo were now actually able to plan their wedding. She wished she’d been able to tell Emma that Santos was now her brother-in-law, but that was the kind of news to tell her face to face, when they got back to London.

      Anxiety rose up. Just how was she going to convince Santos that heading back to reality was not what he wanted to do?

       CHAPTER EIGHT

      THE SUN WAS HOT by the time Georgina came up on deck, to find Santos relaxing, an empty coffee cup on the table. She hadn’t yet seen him look quite this relaxed before, so at ease with life.

      As if aware of her presence he turned to face her, and she wanted to hug her arms about her body, to shield herself from his appraising gaze. Instead she fought the urge, and when the wind blew the sheer kaftan against her like a second skin, revealing the tiny blue bikini she’d reluctantly put on, she walked towards him. As confident as any of the top models he’d dated, she smiled.

      ‘It’s so wonderful out here, away from everybody. I’d love to stay a bit longer.’ She slid seductively into the seat opposite him, nerves tingling all over her body.

      Anxiety, she told herself, refusing to acknowledge the fact that it was Santos who did that to her.

      He looked past her briefly and she wondered if she’d gone too far. But a moment later a tray of breakfast and fresh coffee arrived. The crew were obviously back on board. Once they were alone again he turned his attention to her, his dark eyes sparkling like the sea in the morning sun.

      ‘There would be one condition.’ He poured coffee, the aroma reminding her of how little she’d eaten last night.

      ‘And that would be...?’ Her voice was flirty—the exact opposite of how she felt.

      ‘The same as last night.’

      ‘Last night...’ she breathed, in a husky echo of his words as her body responded to the memory of his touch, his kisses.

      He smiled, a dangerously seductive smile, and she all but melted. ‘No pretence.’

      ‘None at all?’ She teased him with a coy smile, her fingers twining in her hair.

      ‘I like the real Georgie.’ He leant forward in his seat, his brows lifting suggestively. ‘The Georgina you don’t let the world see.’

      She laughed a nervous laugh that made him smile even more, which in turn sent her heart thumping erratically. ‘You make me sound fake—as if I’m a total fraud.’

      ‘Not fake,’ he said, and passed her a coffee.

      She sipped it, thankful for something to do other than look into his handsome face.

      ‘Just scared to let anyone know the real you.’

      His words hit her with the precision of a marksman. Not letting the world see the real Georgina was just what she’d tried to do for the last

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