The Spaniard's Stolen Bride. Maisey Yates
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She looked away, and her glossy hair caught the firelight, shimmering orange, as though the flames had wrapped themselves around the silken strands.
He closed the distance between them, and she did not turn to look his way. He reached out, brushing her curls to one side, his fingertips brushing the delicate skin of her neck.
“You are truly beautiful, Liliana. Do you know that?”
She looked at him, those blue eyes guarded. “Men have told me that before. Usually when they want something from my father.”
“Is that so?” It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her that he wanted something from her father too. That he wanted her. But he held it back.
“My father is a powerful man.”
“So am I, tesoro.” He placed his hand on her hip and felt a jolt beneath his touch. “Believe me when I tell you that I do not require anything to help bolster that. I need a hand up from no one. My money is my own, and my power is my own.”
“Is it?” she whispered.
“What do you think of that?”
She reached up, as though she were going to touch his face, and then she jerked her hand away. “Your power’s all your own?”
“Perhaps at the moment some of it is with you.”
She jerked away from him suddenly, almost tipping toward the fireplace before he caught her around the waist and sent them both stumbling back against the rock fireplace. His chest was pressed against her breasts, and she was breathing hard, those blue eyes locked with his.
“Sorry,” she said, breathless.
She began to wiggle, trying to get out of his hold.
“You don’t really want to escape me,” he whispered.
“I have to. I was avoiding you.”
“And I found you.”
“Don’t you want to know why?”
There was something in her voice, a catch in her tone that made him find he did want to know. He released his hold and took a step back. And that was when he noticed the sparkling diamond on her left hand.
“Why, Liliana?” he asked.
“I told you, a great many men have seen me as a way to get to my father.”
“So you did.”
“And, well... One of them presented him with an offer that neither of us could refuse.”
“Is that so?” he asked, his voice rough, raging heat and fire and fury burning inside of him. “That is so interesting, as your father did not indicate as much to me.”
“Were you bartering with my father for my body as well?”
“Yes,” he responded.
He did not tell her that he had been offering her father money, and not the other way around. That he wanted her most of all.
“You’re not different,” she said, turning away from him. “Which is good to know.”
“It doesn’t matter. I doubt we’ll ever see each other again.”
She laughed softly. “We probably will. Christmases. Birthdays. That sort of thing.”
“Why would we see each other then?”
“Because, Diego. I’m about to become your sister-in-law. I’m marrying your brother.”
SHE WAS GETTING MARRIED. She could hardly believe it.
Liliana had spent her life being cosseted and protected in her family’s sprawling estate in the US. While she had done a bit of traveling, it had always been under the watchful eye of her father and the au pair he had chosen to keep her company.
This was the first time in her life she’d felt like she wasn’t being hovered over.
She had been in Spain now for two weeks with her fiancé, Matías.
Fiancé.
It was so very strange.
She had spent more time talking to...
She swallowed hard, curling her hands into fists as she sat down on the edge of the bed in her room.
She tried not to think of those piercing, dark eyes. That rakish grin that looked like dangerous enticement.
Truly, Matías and Diego Navarro looked so much alike it shouldn’t make one bit of difference to her which one she married. They were both devastatingly handsome. And by all accounts, Matías was a much better man than his brother. Not that she knew much about them. She refused to allow herself to search the internet for information about Diego, as much as she had wanted to. But he radiated an air of danger that Matías simply did not.
That was the problem. There was something more than looks driving that strange connection she had felt to Diego from the moment she had first set eyes on him two years earlier. She’d heard people describe attraction in terms of being struck by lightning.
She’d met Diego Navarro and it had been as if a black fire had been lit inside her. Burning slowly, growing, over the course of all that time.
Matías was a good man. A man that her father wanted to do business with. And why shouldn’t she...
Why shouldn’t she do exactly as he asked?
After all, she was the reason he had lost the love of his life. The reason her fragile, beautiful mother had died in childbirth.
She had to be the daughter her mother would have wanted. A daughter who was worth the loss her father had sustained. A daughter who made him happy. A daughter who was enough.
And so she did her best.
She had always known that her father would have a hand in choosing her husband.
She had accepted it with grace and dignity. The only time she had ever mouthed off, the only time she had ever allowed the witch rolling around in her mind to escape, was in conversation with Diego.
There was no point thinking about him now.
He had not offered for her.
But he might have.
She closed her eyes and sighed.
She heard footsteps in the hall and her heart rate quickened. She sat there on the