And not only had Matías discovered her identity, but he had also asked her to be his wife. His wife.
She, Camilla Alvarez, who had not done so much as kiss a man, who had never been held so close to a man as she was being held by Matías now—in anger, rather than in passion—was being proposed to by that same angry man.
“I don’t understand...”
“I need a wife,” he said, his voice hard as rock. “My brother has acquired a wife, and if I do not then the entirety of this estate goes to him. You are one with a stake in this, as well. Because the horses will go to him. You don’t want that. Trust me. You think he’s going to keep you on? You think he’s going to care about the well-being of your beloved animals? Murderer or not, Diego is not a man given to caring.”
“Not forever,” she said. “I mean, I won’t be your wife forever.”
He shrugged. “Of course, there will be no reason for the marriage to be more than paper. But it must be legal. My grandfather will not live forever, and once ownership has been established, once everything has been settled, then you may have your divorce.”
“An annulment,” she said, “surely.”
“No.” He waved a hand decisively. “There will be nothing that shall call into question the validity of the union. I shall not take any chances of Diego contesting this in court. I put nothing past him, as I already stated. He stole my fiancée. He would think nothing of challenging the legality of this union, as he cannot take more than one wife. Otherwise, I feel he would steal you, as well.”
Camilla felt edgy, unsettled, a raft of emotion and heat careening through her. “How would he set about stealing me?”
“I assume via seduction,” Matías said. “As I assume this is what he did with Liliana, who had an extreme aversion to sharing my bed, and this makes it all the clearer.”
Those words tangled up in her brain. “Liliana didn’t...”
“I was not sleeping with her. Does that matter to you?”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “Only that you intended your marriage with her to be real. To be lasting, I mean. So, naturally I assumed...”
“Liliana presented herself as being quite the sheltered virgin,” he said, his voice dripping with disdain. “She said she did not know me well enough.”
“Oh.”
“I suspect, however, that the real issue was that she had given herself to my brother already.”
“Or,” Camilla said softly, “she really might have been taken, and he could have been forcing her to say those things.”
“I suppose that’s possible,” he said. “But either way, I do not have the time to wait and find out. I have two weeks to marry. And if I engage in some kind of public national search for a wife, no doubt I will find one. However, I’m not sure my grandfather will find it compelling.”
“But he’ll appreciate your brother stooping to kidnapping and subterfuge?”
Matías chuckled. “Because that is Diego’s way. He’s the gambler. The black sheep. I...I am the good one, and I suspect my grandfather would like to see me accomplish his task while sticking to my personal code of honor. More to the point, I imagine he would find it amusing if I could not. Which is why I would have him believe this relationship is real.”
“You have no trouble violating your code of honor so long as nobody knows?”
“Am I forcing you, Camilla?” he asked, her name dripping with disdain. “I believe that rather than force, what I have done is offer you a mutually beneficial deal. You want the horses, you want to be able to stay here and train them, and I will allow it, as long as you help me in this. I must be able to maintain control of the rancho in order for it to be so. I must be able to maintain control of my business. If Diego takes over the family assets in their entirety, then it is possible he will end up with a stake in the company I built myself. I will not allow that. However, if we are able to split the assets, then we can draw up an agreement that keeps him out of it. That means that half is mine. I feel very much that Diego wants to win more than he actually wants to control anything that happens here at the rancho. I, on the other hand, care very deeply about it. I am the one who has spent years here. I am the one who has cultivated a relationship with the animals, with the land. I should think that you of all people would understand that.”
She did. His passion, his need for this place, resonated inside her. It reminded her of the way she felt about the place where she had grown up. The rancho that she missed with all her soul. Those familiar grounds, the worn entryway tiles, that she once again ached to feel beneath her feet.
“I agree,” she said. “On one condition.”
“And what is that?” he asked, his expression dark.
“When we divorce, return my father’s rancho to me.”
He said nothing for a moment. “That is a rather large ask.”
She crossed her arms and gave him her fiercest glare. “As is demanding I marry you.”
“You think you’re worth millions?”
“Yes,” she said, not blinking. “Or at least I think the demand that we marry is worth that.”
He arched one dark brow. “You expect to be my wife in name only and come away with a grand estate?”
“And some of the horses. Not Fuego. I understand that you won’t relinquish control of him. But the others. The ones that will never make champions for you. I want them.”
“And additionally, you would like to continue to see Fuego. Am I right?”
“Of course. Do you have anyone else who can train him? Who can counsel a jockey on how best to handle him? No, I don’t think you do.”
“That is quite a hard bargain that you’re driving, but I have to tell you that I’m inclined to refuse. You are not offering me enough in return.”
“I am offering to be your wife for however long a term you need.”
He appraised her slowly, and it felt like a flame held close to her skin and drawn over sensitive, vulnerable areas. A thorough burn that made her feel restless and helpless.
“If you were offering use of your body, then perhaps you would be in a greater position to demand such a thing.”
Everything inside her recoiled, curled up into a ball, not out of disgust, but fear. That he had identified her shameful attraction to him, that he could see inside her. And that he was mocking her. Because surely, a man who had wanted to marry that birdlike blonde beauty would not find her attractive. Particularly not standing there in ragged boy’s clothes, with her hair cut close to her skull and sticking up at odd angles.
“No. You need a wife. And that’s all. If you want a prostitute, buy one.” She tilted her chin upward, attempting to radiate defiance, attempting to radiate confidence.
She was banking on the fact that his options truly were limited or he never would
