is, after all, a solemn occasion. Now that I think about it, there’s a reason why the State of New York, in its infinite wisdom, instituted a twenty-four-hour waiting period—”
“Just do it,” Rodrigo said harshly. His hand gripped her shoulder.
“Please,” whispered Lola, ignoring the lump in her throat.
The judge hesitated. Then the baby gave a sudden sleepy whimper in Lola’s arms, and she and Rodrigo both turned to comfort him. Watching them caring together for their son, tucking the baby back into the stroller for his nap, the judge seemed reassured. He gave a decisive nod when they returned.
“Very well. Ladies and gentlemen,” he intoned. “We are gathered here today, in the presence of witnesses, to unite this man and this woman in the bonds of matrimony...”
The short ceremony passed quickly. As if in a dream, Lola heard herself speak the words that bound her to Rodrigo for life.
But the awful truth was, she’d bound herself to him long ago, from the night she’d become pregnant with his child.
And now, from this moment on, forever.
Rodrigo’s dark eyes gleamed down at her as the ceremony drew to a close. He seemed almost surprised. Why? Had he thought for some reason that something would prevent it?
Their eyes locked as he slid that obscenely huge diamond on her finger. Funny. Once, she would have dreamed of a moment like this. At fourteen, she dreamed of love, and a handsome prince. At eighteen, she would have just been keen to hock the ring.
And now, at twenty-five, how different this moment felt from anything she’d imagined!
“... I now pronounce you husband and wife.” The judge looked between them with a wink. “You may now kiss the bride.”
Kiss?
Lola looked up at the man who was now her husband. I feel nothing, she told herself desperately. Nothing.
As Rodrigo lowered his head toward hers, she put her hand up to stop him. His chest felt so powerful, so muscular, that in spite of herself, she shivered. “What about your wedding band?” His left hand was still bare. “Don’t you need a ring, too?”
“I’m a man. I don’t need jewelry to feel married.”
She stiffened at his sexist remark. But before she could protest, he took her roughly into his arms.
“Mrs. Cabrera,” he whispered.
Her lips parted in shock as she heard him speak her new name. Ruthlessly, he lowered his mouth to hers.
His lips were hot and sweet, tasting of spice and fire. As he kissed her, the world started to spin. Feeling the strength and power of his body against her own, she gripped his shoulders for balance. She forgot everything in her own aching need. She’d wanted him for so long. A sigh rose from deep inside her, the recognition that this man was hers, hers alone, as she had always been his...
The judge, housekeeper and bodyguard watching them applauded, and Lola suddenly remembered they had an audience.
Pulling away, Rodrigo looked down at her with gleaming eyes.
Pleasure was still spiraling through her as her lips tingled from his bruising kiss. When his mouth had claimed hers, all the distance between them, all the coldness and anger, had exploded into fire, like two storms colliding. But now the distance was back.
She tried to read his expression, to see if the kiss had affected him like it had her. But his face gave nothing away. “Thank you,” he said to the judge, then turned to the bodyguard, Tobias. “Everything is ready for our departure?”
“Already packed, Mr. Cabrera.”
“Packed?” Lola frowned at her brand-new husband. “Are you going somewhere?”
“Not me. We.” Rodrigo gave her a smile that didn’t meet his eyes. “My jet is waiting to take us to Los Angeles.”
It was like a splash of ice water, jolting her awake. “But New York is my home now. My sisters—all my friends—”
His lips twisted. “Friends like Morozov?”
“He was never my friend!”
He snorted. “Exactly.”
Lola ground her teeth. “Why are you being so unreasonable!”
“You just agreed to be my wife, Lola. To honor and obey.” Rodrigo gave her a cruel smile. Cupping her cheek, he looked down at her as he said softly, “Now you will.”
* * *
Rodrigo could hardly believe it.
After all his engagements that had never made it to the altar, this one actually had. They were married. He was almost in shock.
Perhaps it was true he’d rushed their vows that morning. But once he’d made up his mind to marry her, he couldn’t give Lola a chance to betray him like the rest. He couldn’t take any chances with fate, or whatever else had cursed his life.
This marriage would work. It had to work. They had a child.
Now, as Rodrigo drove his red convertible north, traveling from the private airport outside Los Angeles to his beach house near Malibu, Rodrigo glanced at the rearview mirror. He saw his baby’s pudgy hand waving from the rear-facing baby seat. Jett was making cooing noises, and seemed delighted to be in California, beneath the palm trees and warm blue skies.
It was strange to think he had a child. Even stranger for Rodrigo to think he was a father. What did he know about fatherhood?
His own parents had left him in the care of nannies. His mother, an American actress, had traveled the world enjoying her love affairs, as the man who’d supposedly been his father, Francisco Cabrera, had tortured himself with jealousy pursuing the unfaithful wife he adored.
It wasn’t until Francisco’s funeral, when Rodrigo was twenty-one, that his mother told him the reason the man always seemed to despise him. Rodrigo’s real father had been the chauffeur.
“He was very handsome, and I was bored, what can I say?” Elizabeth Cabrera had told him, putting her finger to her cheek thoughtfully. “It was just a one-night indiscretion. Francisco wanted me to get rid of you. Perhaps I should have. My figure was never quite the same after.”
Now, Rodrigo glanced in the rearview mirror of the convertible, toward his son. Jett was such a sweet little boy, with big black eyes and chubby cheeks. He’d been obviously well fed and well cared for. Obviously loved. Beneath Lola’s ferocity, there was utter devotion for their son.
He appreciated that about her, at least.
In some ways, their new relationship was simple: they were a family. But between Rodrigo and Lola, now husband and wife, it was a little more complicated.
His gaze now shifted to his wife, sitting beside him in the convertible. Her arms were folded, and she was seething silently at the wide Pacific Ocean as they drove up the coastal
