upright. Another hand reached for the door, pushing it forward so that it formed a barrier against the pushing, shouting mob.
‘No comment!’ a cold, harshly accented voice declared. ‘Not now. You’ll get your story later!’
And the forceful statement was further emphasised by the slamming of the door tight shut right in the face of the most forward photographer. Not troubling to release her, Guido slammed the bolt home on the door and leaned back against it, taking her with him in his imprisoning embrace.
‘I did warn you!’ he declared, burning bronze eyes blazing down into hers. ‘News obviously travels fast around here.’
‘But—how…’
Even as she stammered out the words, Amber knew the answer to the question.
There had already been a lot of newspaper interest in her wedding to Rafe. The marriage of the heir to one of the largest estates in the country, along with an earldom that brought him to one of the highest ranks of the aristocracy, was bound to be news. Add into that the fact that for a long time Rafe had been the subject of stories in the tabloids and magazines, his slender blond looks stirring interest and speculation, and you had the perfect subject for the gossip columns.
Their engagement had created a buzz of interest, their marriage preparations had had the spotlight of attention focused on them.
And now, of course, the debacle of the wedding, the failure of that marriage before it had begun—and the appalling accusation of possible bigamy—had turned a spark of interest into a blazing inferno of gossip in the space of less than an hour.
‘What am I going to do?’
The question wasn’t addressed to Guido, but rather to the malign fate that had brought him back into her life at this particular moment. She still couldn’t believe that it had happened—couldn’t begin to think how it had happened.
She had been so sure that her short, rash and desperately ill-fated marriage to Guido Corsentino had been a fake. He had told her that it wasn’t valid. That their wild, whirlwind romance had just been a fantasy of her imagination; their even more crazy rush to the altar in a Las Vegas chapel only a pragmatic act on his part in order to get what he wanted.
‘It sure as hell wasn’t a proper marriage.’ The sound of the cruel words he had flung at her was so clear inside her head that for a moment she almost thought that he had spoken them out loud here once again. ‘It was a farce from start to finish. But it worked didn’t it? It kept you in my bed, which was what it was intended to do.’
At the time she had thought that that was all the marriage had done. That it had all been a pretence. But now it seemed that she was legally bound to this man and as a result all her hopes for her life, for her future, lay in ruins.
Through the haze that blurred her eyes, part desperation, part tears, Amber struggled to look up into the face of the man who held her, needing—longing—to know just what was in his mind.
What had he meant when he’d said “The only thing we can consider is what we are going to do about it”?
What did he plan for her and her future? And what was his next move going to be? Just the thought of it made her shiver as if she had found herself hiding, cowering in the jungle, frozen with fear, just waiting for the prowling tiger to pounce.
‘You said—you said they’d get their story later,’ she managed, forcing the words past lips that suddenly seemed wooden and stiff with fright.
‘And so they will,’ Guido returned with stunning calm. ‘Just as soon as we come up with the story we want them to believe.’
There it was again, that ‘we’ that took everything out of her hands and put Guido right in control whether she wanted it or not.
And the truth was that right now she had no idea at all what she wanted—or how she was going to go about getting it. Held close to him like this, she was painfully aware of the burning heat of Guido’s body next to hers, of the steel-hard band of his arm clamped tight around her waist, crushing her close and constricting her breathing
‘We?’
He might feel hot, Amber realised, but his brain was very definitely cool. Definitely in controlled, analytical mode. Even the swollen arousal she had felt in his body before had now eased and she could almost hear the calm ticking-over of his brain as he assessed the situation, considered his options and came up with a plan.
‘Why we…?’
Dark eyes looked down into hers, cold and assessing and totally in control.
‘Because we have no other option,’ he stated calmly. ‘The Press have seen us together—your family—your fiancé’s family have too. From now on we’re in this together, whether we like it or not.’
CHAPTER FOUR
FROM now on we’re in this together, whether we like it or not.
And Amber didn’t like it; not one little bit. It was obvious—Guido could see it in her face. In the way that her eyes shadowed, the tension that pulled her pretty jaw tight, clamped her soft lips together. She wanted out of this—and she wanted him out of her life, that much was plain. But right now he really didn’t see that they had any sort of a choice.
‘And just what sort of a story did you have in mind?’
Her voice was cold and clipped, her tone matching the frost in her gaze, the way that those beautiful green eyes flicked over him, looking him up and down with cool contempt.
Something that she was going to like even less than the thought of them working together. And it was the obvious distaste on her face that made him all the more determined to carry it through.
The idea had come to him when he’d seen her gathering up her skirts and heading down the aisle away from him. Running away from him as fast as she had done that first time—and the burn of rejection had been as bitter and as savage as ever.
He had known in that moment that he couldn’t let her go.
Just moments before he had held her in his arms and kissed her and his body had throbbed with the heated, hungry passion that he had believed was dead to him—long dead. Certainly no woman had stirred that same hot yearning in twelve empty months as this Amber Wellesley—Amber Corsentino—seemed to be able to create in the space of a single heartbeat.
He’d seen her and his body had started to crave everything this woman had once brought him. He’d touched her and that craving had grown into an uncontrollable desire. He’d kissed her and every sense had gone up in flames, unable to bear the torment of being separate from her.
But Guido had to content himself with that kiss. Knowing all the time that he was only stirring up trouble for himself. Stirring up the memories, the needs, the passion that he had thought was long since buried, tamped down hard, hidden under the hard, bitter weight of the feelings she had left him with on the day she had walked out of his life.
Feelings he had spent the past year trying to forget—trying and failing miserably.
And so when he had seen her running away from him once more, he had known, deep
