head dropping lower. But then he stopped, the abruptness of it sending a chill through her.
‘No, Georgina, no.’ He moved away from her and for the first time ever he looked at a loss for what to say.
This powerful all-controlling man that she’d fallen in love with couldn’t and wouldn’t accept that love even existed. If that didn’t staunch the love that was rapidly growing for him, then nothing would.
‘No to what, Santos? Can’t you just accept that they love one another and there aren’t any ulterior motives at work?’
He changed as he stepped away, as if the distance was enabling him to regain his power, his authority. ‘You engineered this whole thing—encouraged them to fly off to Vegas, kept me busy in the way only a woman of your reputation can, and secured a big financial settlement for yourself along the way.’
Hurt raced through her, stinging like a thousand bees. ‘You can keep your money, tear up the agreement—anything.’ She rounded on him, angry at herself for feeling for him, for wanting to reach out to him, for wanting to love him. ‘I don’t even know why you haven’t just bought Carlo out. It would have been much less complicated than getting married.’
‘Don’t insult my business management. You know nothing about it—about the way Carlo has refused my generous offer, not once but twice, holding out for the ultimate prize.’
His voice was fierce but she didn’t pay any heed to it at all. Her emotions were running so high she no longer cared what happened.
‘No, I don’t know anything about it. All I know is that I should never have got involved.’ She hissed the words at him as his dark eyes accused her. ‘I should have just helped them get married.’
‘You did.’
‘No!’ Exasperation made her voice sharp.
He really believed she’d done this for money, for her own gain as well as Emma’s. Enraged beyond comprehension, she marched to his study. Her thoughts were beyond rational as she barged into the room, and when she saw the file holding their agreement on his desk she picked it up.
Santos entered the study just as she took hold of the agreement they’d both signed such a short time ago, his face as dark as the thunderclouds had been earlier. She looked at him, smiled sarcastically. Challenging him. Then she tore up the agreement into as many tiny pieces as her shaking hands could manage.
‘You can do what you like, mi esposa, but you will still be my wife.’
‘I’m leaving, Santos, as your wife or not. I don’t care, but I’m going back to London.’
She pushed past him and almost ran to her room. Without pausing she grabbed her handbag, checked for her passport and spun on her heel, not wanting anything from him.
She’d get a taxi to the airport and sit there all night if she had to, but one thing was for sure: she’d be on the next flight back to London. With that plan of action in mind she headed for the front door of the villa, glad Santos was nowhere to be seen.
Anger and frustration still raced in her veins as she pulled open the heavy ornate door—but Santos stood there, hands folded across his powerful body.
‘I HAVE TO GO, SANTOS,’ she fired at him, her heart thudding so loudly she thought he might hear it. ‘We should never have married. I was stupid to think it could work.’
‘Stupid to try and deceive me—that’s what you mean, is it not, querida?’ His words were slow and very deliberate.
The setting sun cast an orange glow around him as he stood firm and resolute before her. Despite the pain in her heart, her body responded to the image of him—the man she loved. The man she must never think of again once she’d got back to London. Perhaps she’d move away, get a small place in the country, live simply and quietly. Anything not to have to see him again.
‘I’m not even going to deny it.’ Her temper flared. ‘You’re determined to think the worst so you can go ahead and do it, just like you have with your brother and his mother. Even your father.’
He inhaled deeply, his handsome face becoming sharper than she’d ever seen. His eyes hardened until they resembled polished obsidian, with glittering hints of the lava that formed it hidden in their depths.
‘Get in the car, Georgina.’ His tone brooked no rebuke and she stiffened at the challenge. There was no way she was going to let him stop her. She had to get away—as far away as possible.
‘No,’ she said vehemently, and tried to move past him, but his reactions were fast and he instantly blocked her, his dominating body filling the doorway.
‘I’m going to the airport.’
‘Then I shall take you.’ His tone was as overpowering as his body.
She looked from his face to the car behind him and noticed for the first time that the passenger door was open and the engine running. Her heart raced at the thought of being with him for just a little while longer, because despite everything that was where she wanted to be. But he would never want her as his wife now—not when he believed her capable of such deception. A deception she was innocent of.
‘Why?’ She couldn’t help herself asking, as if in just a few seconds he would have changed his mind about her.
‘You are my wife, and as such I will drive you to the airport.’
He left her in no doubt that there wouldn’t be any further discussion on the subject and she dropped down into the low sports car, nerves taking flight in her stomach as he climbed into the driver’s seat.
She glanced across at him as the air inside the car filled with his raw masculine scent—one that would haunt her for ever—only to find he was looking at her. Furiously she glared at him, then looked away. She wasn’t going to be a victim of his charm this time. The sooner she got to the airport the better.
The drive along the busy roads was fast and painfully silent. Each time she looked at him his stern profile hinted at the anger he held in check. Each passing second became tenser than the last, the air more laden and heavy, and she breathed a sigh of relief as the airport came into view.
He passed the entrance and she panicked. ‘Where are we going?’
‘My plane is waiting on the Tarmac.’
‘You don’t need to do that. I’ll book on the next flight.’ She tried hard to keep her desperation from him, but it wasn’t just him she was annoyed with. She’d almost hoped he was coming to London too and that he did want her.
‘We shall be in London by midnight.’
‘We?’ She silently cursed that last thought—that last futile wish.
‘Did you really think you could walk out so easily?’ He turned to look at her briefly as he manoeuvred the car into the airport and headed for the plane. Within seconds of them stopping he was out of the car and at her door, and once their passports were checked he took her hand and led her up
