Lucas looked at the firebrand in his arms. Her face was flushed, her hair had long ago come loose of its demure knot and whatever lipstick she’d had on was worn away by the endless hours since they’d left Texas…
Kissed away by his mouth on hers.
“You cannot just—just march around carrying me as if I were—as if I were—”
Bending his head, he kissed her, felt her initial struggle fade and become acquiescence, felt her lips soften, felt the sweetness of her sigh.
When he looked up, he caught Paolo openly gaping at them in the mirror.
“Paolo,” he said gently, “I forgot to mention…”
“Sir?”
“Señorita McDonough has done me the honor of agreeing to become my wife.”
“Are you out of your mind?”
They were the first words Alyssa had spoken since Lucas’s impossible announcement.
He’d carried her from the car, up a set of steps and through the massive doors of what could only be called a mansion, past a butler, a housekeeper, a maid, past half a dozen people who stared at her, at him, then beamed when he made the same announcement to each.
This is Señorita McDonough. Mi novia.
His fiancée. His fiancée, when in reality she was a woman who wanted to claw his eyes out.
But she’d kept quiet, knowing anything she said would be pointless, that the arrogant Spanish prince would shut her up by kissing her.
Once they were alone, she’d tell him what an idiot he was.
And they were alone now.
He’d carried her up an elegant, curving staircase, down a wide hall, shouldered open a door, kicked it shut behind him and, at last, dropped her on her feet. Then he’d folded his arms and looked at her in a way that said he knew what was coming next.
“All right, amada,” he’d growled, “let’s have it.”
And she’d given it to him. A look of rage, of disbelief, and then the question that was really a statement.
“Are you out of your mind?”
He had to be. Why else say they were engaged? Why further complicate something that was quickly becoming impossible?
He scowled. Glared. Ran his hands through his dark hair until it stood up in little ruffles. He paced across the room, swung around, faced her and said, “I had no choice.”
“You had no choice?”
“That’s correct. I had no—”
“You told everyone—everyone!—that I’m your fiancée because you had no choice?”
“Chica. If you would calm down—”
“We both agreed that contract, that inane stipulation, is a joke. It’s why I said I’d come here with you, because we agreed. Because you said you’d find a way to make your grandfather see it was wrong.”
“Unenforceable.”
“Unenforceable, wrong, what’s the difference?” Alyssa slapped her hands on her hips. “I knew I shouldn’t have believed you!”
His face darkened. “Are you calling me a liar?”