The Tycoon Takes a Wife / His Royal Prize: The Tycoon Takes a Wife / His Royal Prize. Katherine Garbera

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mad over the secret she’d kept from him, a secret that he’d only just found out was gumming up the works on their divorce decree.

      Of course when he’d met her in Madrid a year ago, he’d been distracted by the instantaneous, mind-blowing chemistry between them. And looking at her now, seeing her quiet elegance, he figured he could cut himself some slack on missing details that could have clued him in—like how much she’d fit into her Spanish surroundings.

      The woman was a walking distraction.

      Wind molded her tan silk dress around her body. The dimly lit night played tricks with his vision until she looked nearly naked, clothed only in shifting shadows.

      Had she known that when she chose the dress? Likely not. Eloisa seemed oblivious to her allure, which only served to enhance her appeal.

      Her sleek dark hair was slicked back in a severe ponytail that gave her already exotic brown eyes a tug. Without so much as lip gloss, she relegated most models to the shadows.

      Once he had her name on the dotted line of divorce papers—official ones this time—he would have nothing to do with her ever again. That had been the plan anyway. He didn’t need round two of her hot-cold treatment. So he’d misread the signs, hadn’t realized she was drunk during the”I do” part. That didn’t mean she had to slap his face and fall off the planet. He was over Eloisa.

      Or so he’d thought. Then he’d seen her and felt that impact all over again, that kick-in-the-gut effect he’d thought must have been exaggerated by his memory.

      He tamped back the attraction and focused on seeing this through. He needed her signature and for some reason he refused to leave it up to lawyers. Maybe it had something to do with closure.

      Eloisa inched her heel from between the planks and set both feet as firmly as her delicate jaw.”What are you doing here?”

      “I came to accompany you to your sister’s engagement party.” He hooked an elbow on the open limo door, the chauffeur waiting up front as he’d been instructed earlier.”Can’t have my wife going stag.”

      “Shhh!” Lurching toward him, she patted the air in front of his face, stopping just shy of touching his mouth.”I am not your wife.”

      He clasped her hand, thumb rubbing over her bare ring finger.”Damn, I must have hallucinated that whole wedding ceremony in Madrid.”

      Eloisa yanked her hand away and rubbed her palm against her leg.”You’re arguing semantics.”

      “If you would prefer to skip the party, we could grab a bite to eat and talk about those semantics.” He watched the glide of her hand up and down her thigh, remembering well the creamy, soft texture under his mouth as he’d tasted his way up.

      She stared at him silently until he met her eyes again.”You’re kidding, right?”

      “Climb into the car and see.”

      She glanced back at the boat, then at him again, her long ponytail fanning to rest along her shoulder.”I’m not so sure that’s a good idea.”

      “Afraid I’ll kidnap you?”

      “Don’t be ridiculous.” She laughed nervously as if she’d considered just that.

      “Then what’s holding you back? Unless you want to continue this conversation right here.” He nodded toward the boat full of partyers.”I thought you wanted me to be quiet.”

      She looked back over her shoulder again, and while it appeared no one noticed them, who knew how long that would hold? Not that he gave a damn what anyone thought, unlike his enigmatic wife. He’d learned a long time ago he had two choices in this world. Let others rule his life or take charge.

      The second option won hands down.

      He cocked an eyebrow and waited.

      “Fine,” she bit out between gritted teeth.

      She eyed him angrily as she angled past and slid into the car without even brushing against him. Eloisa settled into the leather seat.

      Jonah tucked himself inside next her, closed the door and tapped the glass window between them and the chauffeur, signaling him to drive. Just drive. He would issue a destination later.

      “Where are we going?” she asked as the limo eased into motion, the tinted windows closing them in their own private capsule.

      “Where do you want to go? I have a penthouse suite farther down on Pensacola Beach.”

      “Of course you do.” Her gaze flicked around the small space, lingering briefly on his computer workstation to her left before moving on to the minibar and the plasma screen TV.

      “I see you haven’t changed.” He’d forgotten how prickly she could be about money. Still, it had been refreshing. He’d had plenty of women chase him because of the Landis portfolio and political influence.

      He’d never had a female dump him because of it. Of course back then he hadn’t known she had access to money and influence beyond even his family’s reach. Mighty damn impressive.

      And confusing since she hadn’t bothered to share that even after they married.

      He put a damper on the surge of anger, a dangerous emotion given the edge of desire searing his insides. To prove to himself he could stay in control, he slid two fingers down the length of a sleekly straight lock of her black hair.

      Eloisa jerked her head away.”Stop that.” She adjusted the air-conditioning vent nervously until the blast of air ruffled her ponytail.”Enough playing, although you certainly seem to be an expert at recreation. I just want to know why you’re here, now.”

      With all he knew about her, she still understood so little about him.”What’s wrong with wanting to see my wife?”

      “Ex-wife. We got drunk and ended up married.” She shrugged casually, too much so.”It happens to lots of folks, from pop stars to everyday Joes and Josephines. Just check out the marriage logs in Las Vegas. We made a mistake, but we took steps to fix it the morning after.”

      “Do you consider all of it a mistake? Even the part between ‘I do’ and waking up with a hangover?” He couldn’t resist reminding her.

      A whisper of attraction smoked through her dark eyes.”I don’t remember.”

      “You’re blushing,” he noted with more than a little satisfaction, grateful for the soft glow of a muted overhead light. So he was smug. Sue him.”You remember the good parts all right.”

      “Sex is irrelevant.” She sniffed primly.

      “Sex? I was talking about the food.” He turned the tables, enjoying the cat-and-mouse game between them.”The mariscada en salsa verde was amazing.” And just that fast, he could all but taste the shellfish casserole in green sauce, the supper she’d shared with him before they had after-dinner drinks. Got hitched. Got naked.

      He could see the same memory reflected in her eyes just before her mouth pursed tight.

      “You’re a jackass, Jonah.”

      “But

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