Redeemed By His Stolen Bride (Rival Spanish Brothers 2)

‘But if it was an option you’d prefer not to?’

‘I don’t deal in what ifs or unknowns. I deal with reality, and this is my reality. And yours too, Leonora. Or are you going to tell me your engagement to Sanchez was born out of emotion or desire?’

Leonora flushed. ‘No, of course not.’

She felt exposed, and tense. He knew full well she hadn’t slept with Lazaro.

A sense of something that felt like hurt compelled her to push back. ‘What makes you think I’m available? Just because I agreed to marry Lazaro? The other night you were reminding me that we’re bound by duty and responsibility, but maybe I want more than that. Maybe I don’t want to just become someone’s responsibility.’

Or, maybe, she realised in the same split second, she didn’t want to become Gabriel Torres’s responsibility, because already she was feeling things for him that were dangerous and disturbing.

Gabriel sat forward. ‘Are you telling me that you hadn’t agreed to let Lazaro Sanchez take responsibility for your family’s debts?’

At that moment the housekeeper came back into the room with a tray that held coffee for Gabriel and tea for Leonora.

Without taking his gaze from Leonora’s, Gabriel said, ‘We’ll take it in the lounge, thank you, Tulia.’

He stood up and Leonora followed his lead from the dining room, glad of a momentary reprieve from the growing tension.

They followed the housekeeper into another surprisingly airy room, adjacent to the dining room. Sunset was bathing everything in a pink and golden hue. The furniture was classic, elegant. Timeless.

The woman set the tray down on a coffee table between two couches.

Gabriel said, ‘Thank you, Tulia. That will be all.’

The woman left the room.

Gabriel said, ‘Please, sit down.’

Leonora hesitated for a moment, torn between telling Gabriel that she wanted to leave, so she could get out of his disturbing orbit, and the stronger pull to stay. Hear him out.

Let him seduce you again?

Leonora sat down quickly before he might see the turmoil he’d unleashed inside her. Before he could see the want. Even now, despite his disturbing proposition. Proposal.

Thankfully he sat down on the opposite couch. She felt as if she could get her breath back and gather her wits as long as he kept his distance. She picked up her cup of tea and took a sip, hoping it would ground her.

He seemed to be waiting for her to speak. It unnerved her. She hadn’t had so much focused attention on her from anyone, ever. And from a man like Gabriel Torres it was more than a little overwhelming.

She looked at him. He was sitting back, holding his tiny espresso cup in one big hand but looking no less masculine. One arm was stretched out along the couch, pulling his top tight across his tautly muscled chest.

She swallowed. Focus.

‘Why do you want to marry me when you could marry any number of far more suitable women?’

He took his arm down and sat forward. A muscle ticked in his jaw. ‘Why are you resisting my proposal when you agreed to marry a man you hadn’t even slept with?’

Leonora tensed even more—so much that she felt as if she might splinter into a million tiny pieces. It was precisely because she’d slept with Gabriel that she was resisting this proposal. Because she was still reeling after what had happened and how explosive it had been.

She put her cup down and stood up, pride stiffening her spine. ‘Maybe I should go. Just because I agreed to marry one man, it does not mean that I’m automatically going to agree to marry the next man who asks me.’

She turned, but stopped when she felt Gabriel’s hand on her arm. Gentle, but with enough force to stop her. Reluctantly she faced him, and he let her arm go. She was surprised to see an expression of humility on his face.

‘Wait—please.’

He ran a hand through his hair, mussing it up. It gave him a more approachable air. Less stern. Despite herself, Leonora felt something inside her weaken.

He said, ‘I haven’t articulated myself very well. Just hear me out...please?’