LITMIR.BIZ

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his tone as he crouched before her, forcing her to look into his eyes. ‘Then why offer yourself to me?’

      She swallowed down the urge to cry, to collapse into an emotional heap, and looked into his eyes. Their dark depths were almost unreadable. He was so close, and the spark of attraction passing between them was as strong as ever, but she mustn’t let that cloud her mind and muddle her judgement.

      ‘Why, Georgina?’ he prompted, his voice a little firmer, and she realised the anger she’d seen in him earlier was still simmering beneath the surface.

      She took a breath to tell him what she’d just learnt, but couldn’t. The look in his glittering eyes halted those words

      ‘For Emma,’ she began, trying to put off the moment just a little longer. ‘She believes in the dream of love, the happy-ever-after, and it’s Carlo—your brother—who is that dream for her. When she told me about the will it seemed the most obvious deal to make. I’d married for convenience for Emma’s benefit once before. I could do it again.’

      Georgina was emotionally wrung out, but she had to tell him. She didn’t want to—didn’t want to rouse his anger—but she knew she had to. She couldn’t keep it from him. He had a right to know.

      ‘They are already married.’

      The words were out before he had a chance to say anything.

      He studied her for a moment, crouching in front of her as if he was talking to a child, making her think he’d be good with children. An image of her holding a baby with Santos’s dark eyes and complexion rushed into her mind, not for the first time in recent days, but she pushed it harshly away. Marrying him was one thing, but she’d never have his child. She could never have a child, full-stop. She didn’t want to risk being as useless as her own mother.

      ‘When did you know?’ His words, although cajoling, still reverberated with anger.

      She looked down at the phone she still clutched in her hand and sighed. ‘Minutes ago.’

      Betrayal ripped through her again at the thought of what Emma and Carlo had done, but she knew Emma would never have done it alone—never.

      ‘I can’t believe it,’ she whispered, more to herself than Santos.

      ‘They married on Saturday.’

      He stood up and looked down on her, his height making her feel small, his words like hailstones raining down on her. Another rumble of thunder followed, echoing his anger.

      ‘Saturday?’ She blinked back tears as she thought of Emma getting married whilst she’d been flying out to Spain. Then it hit her. ‘That means Carlo married first.’

      He nodded, folding his arms across his chest once more.

      ‘So our marriage was for nothing. Carlo inherits the business and I miss the biggest day of my sister’s life.’ She wanted to jump up, to stand and face him, but her knees were too weak so she just buried her face in her hands.

      What was she going to do now? Santos probably thought she’d conspired with them to outsmart him. There was only one thing she could do. Go home. Get far away from Santos.

      ‘I’ll go and pack,’ she said, finally finding the strength to stand as another rumble filled the room, this time sounding as if it was finally receding.

      ‘No.’

      Santos grabbed her arm as she made to leave and she looked up into his face. A small part of her wanted to see the gentleness she’d seen on their wedding night. She wanted to feel as special as he’d made her feel that night. But instead his eyes were brittle with hardness.

      ‘You are my wife. You will stay here.’

      She shook her head. ‘No, Santos, I can’t. Their marriage changes everything.’

      ‘Your scheming, meaning that Carlo married first, has changed nothing. We are still married.’

      He held her arm tight, pulling her against his body. She could feel the heat of it and, despite the anger and tension in the air, her body responded traitorously to his.

      ‘It’s all about the business for you, isn’t it?’ Accusation rang in her voice as she lifted her chin, finding her defiant streak once more, denying the burning need that raged inside her. ‘You can’t bear it that you’ve lost it.’

      He shook his head and his voice was hard. ‘I haven’t lost it. Not yet. And we will remain married.’

      ‘Why?’ Her breath was heaving in her chest.

      His eyes darkened, the brittleness of earlier replaced with hot desire.

      ‘Because of this.’

      Before she could question him further his mouth claimed hers in a hot, searing kiss. She gasped in a mixture of annoyance and pleasure as his hand cupped her breast, making her arch against him, only being held upright by the firm grasp of his hand on her arm. She had no escape. Neither did she want an escape. She wanted his touch, his kiss. Damn it, she wanted him. She wanted him because she loved him—and that was exactly why she had to go.

      She could hardly think straight, let alone put coherent words together, as he broke the kiss and looked down at her.

      ‘This undeniable attraction that exists between us. We can’t fight it for ever.’

      ‘No,’ she managed in a croaky voice. ‘But it can’t last for ever.’

      He shrugged, relinquishing his grip on her arm to hold her hand instead. ‘True, but we can explore it while it lasts.’

      ‘Why would I want to do that?’ Indignation at his knowing glance leapt through her.

      ‘Because we are man and wife,’ he said in a smooth tone that rippled over her heightened senses like velvet. ‘Truly man and wife.’

      She shook her head. ‘Not really, we aren’t. It was just a deal. Just a marriage of convenience.’

      ‘Was our wedding night on the yacht just part of the deal?’

      His self-satisfied smile made her blush at the memory of just how abandoned she’d been. He kissed her—a brief but intense one.

      ‘I thought not.’

      ‘No, Santos.’ She pushed at his chest, needing space to think. ‘This isn’t what I wanted. Neither of us did. And now Emma and Carlo have married there is no need for us to be together.’

      ‘That’s where you are wrong, because Carlo hasn’t yet inherited the business.’

      ‘Of course he has. He’s married—before you.’ She almost froze with shock. Some of his earlier words were now making sense, like his accusation of her acting. He’d been playing with her.

      ‘Yes, they are married.’ The smile didn’t reach his eyes this time. ‘But, querida, that doesn’t change anything.’

      ‘What do you mean?’ Confused, she stopped pushing him away. She didn’t understand. Emma and Carlo had got married before she and Santos had even arrived in Spain, making Carlo the first son to marry. ‘Why doesn’t it change anything?’

      * * *

      Santos struggled with his conscience. Her act of being the wounded party was very convincing, just as her act of fear of the storm had been, but he didn’t believe she’d known nothing of their plans. Why else would she have asked so seductively to stay on the yacht longer, or even agreed to leave London with him, if not to make it as difficult as possible for him to contact the outside world? She’d practically thrown herself at him, used all that a woman could to snare his interest and keep him from going back to the villa. She’d made him want her, teased and dallied with his desire since that first kiss at the party, and there was only one reason as far as he was concerned.

      She’d planned it all along.

      True, she’d wanted him as much

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